A Christmas wish

                                                                   
                                                                            A Christmas Wish

A reddish sun rose from behind the Blue Dome, the first dome in Syria decorated with coloured tiles on the outer surface; an eminent tradition imported from Iran and added to the melange of a multitude of rich, famed traditions, imported from all the surrounding and distant lands. I could not tell apart whether it was exquisite shades of reddish strokes, that filled the sun; or was it marred by the undying stains of blood and massacre, that had shrouded the region for long centuries.

Either ways, I did not fear; I tried to gaze as far as I could, from the Mashrabiya, projecting oriel windows, carved with intricate wood latticework, and lined with glittering glass, of a high tower of the castle. It seemed, as if the nearby hills bowed down to the castle, as I gazed at their bulging ‘humps’, just like a camel’s. A series of fortified walls and barricades, claimed impossible to breach or mine through protected the castle. I glanced straight down at the bluish-green water-filled trenches, which surrounded the main fortress, inside the citadel of Damascus. The city did not need to boast of its wonders or its birth; it was the oldest inhabited city known on the face of earth, the civilized human’s history would have mentioned it its prologue.
Tiny dark brown blots, could be spotted on the sand, at the banks of trenches, they too had a long tale to tell, just like the city’s inhabitants. Hippopotamuses once thrived across the entire Saharan region, and parts of Turkey, in abundance. Extensive killing for food for survival, and later for the royals’ amusement had wept out many of their communities. We heard, they once dwelled Europe too, but history had not recorded the time of their extinction there, only leaving their bony remnants. My clan too, was cursed due to the huge numbers of ‘Hippos’ killed by my ancestors long ago. ‘Hippos’ could no-doubt be savage beasts, when provoked, but they were a vital part of the fauna in the region. The curse was not clear, but the imams and priests had forecasted bloody wars would fall upon the region, unless no efforts be taken to protect them. The countless wars which had marred the region were feared as a testament to the prophecies, and so my grandfather had finally built a sanctuary for the ‘Hippos’. They were feared to drive away the crocodiles themselves, and so replaced all crocodiles in the trenches, only to serve as better guards. The wars stopped for a while it seems, as they bred in plenty, and we would not short fall of these guards.

I could go on, to tell endless tales of the wars, civilizations, the renowned Seljuk, Zengid, Ayyubid dynasties, and the current Mameluke Sultanate which ruled the area. I am told, that we fall somewhere in the linage of the the great Saladin, whose chivalry was revered in Europe itself.  The ever conquering Saladin could not settle in the castle, but left us in this haven, the castle, as he moved on to conquer and quench his thirst of vengeance with the Christian Crusaders. Yet, now at hand, is an omen of another siege, by the Mongol hordes. They had captured Damascus, some time back, and suppressed the revolts of my people too, yet had been finally defeated at the hands of mighty Mameluke camel-warriers. Now, they were thirsty for revenge, and had invaded Damascus again, leaving only our castle untouched. Rumours had spread, that they had installed heavy siege weapons in a nearby mosque, only to try and breach the fortress again. Hordes of injured and battle-torn soldiers, entered the gates of castle now and then, seeking refuge.

The crusades, were fought between those claiming to represent the two dominating religion of the Continent, Christianity and Islam. Yet, here in Damascus, they lived together for they had found no peace and victory in the countless wars fought, over religions. It was no surprise that Christians too abounded in the region, after all, the city was one of the first regions to receive Christianity during the ministry of St. Paul. This reminds of the auspicious Christmas tomorrow, and also of the rumoured onslaught by the Mongol Hordes, at dawn tomorrow. I met with my Christian friends, in the evening, to ask what they would they wish for. It was a common wish, we all teenagers could think of, a miracle that would prevent the siege tomorrow. We all left, early in night, to spend time with our families, before a portent war would break tomorrow, and wipe out the inhabitants of castle. I could not sleep the whole night, drenched with fear.

I did not mean to betray my religion; but Christmas was the only auspicious festival, nearby, when we would expect our wishes to come true. I wished silently, watching into the starry sky, hoping a ‘Santa Claus’ as they said, would pop out in an open red wagon, out of the blue. I soon fell asleep, only to be woken up early the next morning. Everyone was awake, before dawn, distraught whether the siege would happen. As the first rays shone, a messanger rode shouting ‘We are saved’, in a red wagon as it reached the gates of the castle. We would soon learn, that are wishes would come true, it seems ‘Santa Claus’ had sent a messanger to us, unable to make it himself. The Mongol hordes, had surprisingly left, battle-torn and low on morale, as we heard, leaving a red-wagon as a tribute, to the Commander of our castle.

The End.

(Word Count: 931)