9
I asked:
"What is this place?"
My companion answered, laughingly:
“This is the ladder on which the spirits of mortal humans mount
up to the heavens, of course.”
I had sometimes difficulties understanding the Arabian humor and I
knew for a fact that humor did not cross very well cultures, so I
smiled in reply because I knew he meant well.
Photo courtesy of: http://community.webshots.com/user/saudi6
We stepped onto the first terrace of the castle. The building
was high with a rather defensive air made of layers of mud and
straw. The walls were curved at the end and swept upwards slightly
at that point. Cat’s whiskers were painted around the windows, and
just under the roof line ran a fluted band of small raised half columns
of white color. The place was cool and shady. A steep central
staircase rose to the roof in a spiral of steps, which sloped towards
the outer edge of the tread. Inside, walls were painted with scenes
of Mecca and geometric patterns in bright colors so smooth that they
seemed freshly dressed. We hurried our way to the higher terrace to
have a better view of the oasis. When we arrived, I did not regret it.
It was a pleasure to watch the gushing torrents into the irrigation
channels and the outstanding grove below. The caravan was resting
further north and would stay there several days before resuming its
travel through the nakedness of nakedness: the desert. We leaned
over for few minutes across an ornamented parapet.
The view gave wildly across the green valley to the looming bulk of
the mountains on either side. It was beautiful! And sweet too!
The learned man, guessing what I was thinking, declared:
“Yes, this land is the sweetest, yes, and the harshest.”
Saying that, he led me towards a ladder. So I looked up in the
heavens where the ramp was shining with gradual tones of colors.
On top of the ladder was a small room that looked like a mosque or a
place of retreat, but I had no clue to decide if I was in the right or in
the wrong.
10
I was not enough familiar with the local architecture yet.
We soon passed by a wall where paintings showed silhouettes of
people in a succession of scenes. One image showed a group of
persons sitting on a partition, smiling and crying all at the same time.
They were depicted looking towards one or the other side of the wall
either with awe or with horror depending on the side they gazed at.
It was not exactly a wall, but rather a veil. The elder explained:
"This picture represents life in the Hereafter. These men, with
the piercing eyes are those who implore Allah not to be sent on the
other side of the wall, and the other side of course is Hell.
Sometimes the people of the wall seem to recognize one fellow on
the other side and they shout: 'Was it of any use to you to have
amassed all these goods and have been so arrogant! Your mockeries
led you to this state and also your vanity. We forget you as you
forgot to help us when we were in need and when you laughed at us.
Then, from now on, try to enter the beautiful gardens and do not eat
anymore of the bitter fruits of Zaqqûn and Dâri!' [A Hadith] See, in
the picture, the people from Hell long for water and beg to be
quenched, so the people on the wall shout in answer: "the goods from
here are forbidden to the untruthful" [A Hadith]. The scholar
stopped, then affirmed:
I do not know why they look so sure of themselves. They are not
admitted yet in the Gardens of felicity…"
Suddenly, I heard a terrible sound, which startled me. The noise
might have seemed to me much louder than it really was because I
was profoundly reflecting upon the words I had just heard. When I
asked about the noise, my host seemed confused, smiled, and replied
teasingly:
“That is the sound made by a stone which was thrown into the pit
of hell many years before."
And I could see in the next painting a bridge, which seemed thin as a
hair and under it an infinite pit. A windy little road drove itself to
another garden. There stood a tree with a dusty color and little
foliage. The fruits of the Zaqqûn tree, as I was told, came from
there. Those fruits were given as food to the people of Hell.
The scholar volunteered:
"The Zaqqûn smells nasty and has such bitter fruits that no birds want
to taste them. Its trunk is covered with numerous nodosities. Its
fragile flowers appear surrounded by leaves with awful extremities
like snakes. Maybe you have noticed that from the picture. If you
know a little about the botany of the region, you will notice that the
Zaqqûn looks much alike a genuine tree from Saudi Arabia, but the
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