``
A Parable
A man was going through a marketplace
one afternoon, when,
just as the Muezzin began the call to payers,
his eyes fell on a woman.
She was strangely attractive,
though dress in fulsome black,
a veil over her head and face,
and now she turn to him as if somehow
conscious of his over-lingering regards,
and gave him a slight but meaningful nod
before she turned the corner
into lane of silk sellers.
As if struck by a bolt from heaven,
the man was at once drawn,
his heart a prisoner of that look, forever.
in vain, he struggled with his heart,
offering it one sound reason after another
to go his way-wasn't it time to pray?
but
it was finished: there was nothing but to follow.
He hastened after her,
turning into market of skis,
breathing from the exertion of catching up
with the woman, who had unexpectedly
outpaced him and even now lingered
for an instant at the far end of the market,
many shops ahead,she turn towards he,
and he thought he could see a flash of a
mischievous smile from beneath the black
muslin of her veil, as she-was it his imagination?
beckoned to him again.
The poor man was beside himself.
who was she?
the daughter of a wealthy family?
what did she want?
he re-quickened his steps and
turned into the lane where she had disappeared.
And so she led him, always beyond reach,
always tantalisingly ahead,
now though the weapons market,
now the oil merchants,
now the leather sellers,
farther and farther from where they began.
the feeling within him grew rather than decreased.
Was she mad? on and on she led,
to the very edge of the town.
The sun declined and set,
and there she was, before him as ever
Now they had come, of all places,
to the city of tombs.
Had he been in his normal senses,
he would have been afraid, but indeed,
he now reflected, stranger places
than this had seen a lover's tryst.
There was scarcely twenty cubits between them
when he saw her look back and giving a little start,
she skipped down the steps and though
the great bronze door of what seemed to be
a very old sepulchre.
A moment might have sen the man pause,
but in his present state,
there was no turning back,
and he went down the steps and slid in after her.
Inside, as his eyes saw after a moment,
there were two flights of steps
and led down to second door,
from whence a light shone,
and which he equally passedthrough.
He found himself in a large room,
somehow unsuspected by the out side world,
lit with candled upon its walls.
There sat the woman,
opposite the door on a pallet of rich stuff
in her black dress, still veiled,
reclining on a pillow against the wall.
To the right of the pallet,
the man noticed a well set in the floor.
Lock the door behind you,
she said in low husky voice that was almost
a whisper "and bring the key."
He did as he was told.
She gestured carelessly at the well,
"throw it in."
A ray of sense seemed to penetrate
for a moment the clouds over his understanding,
and a bystander,had there been one,
and might have detected the slighted of pauses.
Go on, she said laughingly,
"you didn't hesitate to miss the prayers
as you followed me here, did you?
He said nothing
"The time for prayers has almost finished as well"
she said with gentle mockery.
"why worry? Go on throw it in.
You want to please me, Don't you?"
He extended his hand his hand
over the mouth of the well,and watched as key drop.
An uncanny feeling rose from the pit of his stomach
as moment passed but no sound came.
He felt wonder, then horror,
then and comprehension.
It is time to see me, "she said"
and lifted her veil to reveal
not the face of fresh young girl,
but of a hideous old crone,
all darkness and vice,
not a particle of light anywhere in its eldritch lines.
See me well, she said " my name is Duniya,
this world, i am your beloved.
You wasted your time running after me,
and now you have caught up with me.
In your grave. welcome, welcome."
At this she laughed and laughed,
until she shook herself into a small mound
of fine dust, whose fitful shadow,
as the candles went out,
returned to the darkness one by one.`
Rose!
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