Devil or Angel?

“Is there any water left?” Silvia asked her elder brother Adrian who had taken change of their meagre supplies. Her brother shook his head despondently at the familiar question, one which he had been hearing variations of for quite some time, telling her that they would find some soon. He tried very hard not to think of the fact that he had no clue as to how they would do so. The two of them had been crossing the Sahara Desert with their family when a sand storm had started. Their camel, Sarah, had lagged behind the rest and so they almost did not hear their father's warning in time. It was a stroke of sheer luck that they had managed to find cover against the sudden onslaught of sand and had thus been largely unharmed. However, Sarah had not been so fortunate. She had been cut by the sharp edge of a boulder, leaving a deep and rather painful looking gash on her left forelimb that the children had bound in some rags. To add to their misfortunes, their family was nowhere to be found. It had been Adrian's idea to move westwards towards their destination, using the soon to set sun as their guide, in hopes of finding them.

 

And so the siblings travelled, alone save their injured camel, in the vast desert. The sun was scorching hot, even now when dusk was perhaps an hour away, causing their tan skins to be sleeked with sweet. They had run out of water a while ago and had very little food. They also lacked warm clothes for the cold night. Sarah was clearly exhausted. Even with Adrian walking beside her, instead of riding her, both siblings knew that she would not be able to go on for long. Their situation was grave indeed. There seemed to be not a single star of hope on their horizon, only lots and lots of sand.

 

But none of this deterred Adrian in his attempts to at least find some shelter and even as the hopelessness of their predicament increased so did his determination. Fear is a supremely powerful motivator. And Adrian was terrified. Not only due to their lack of adequate supplies and the many natural perils of spending a night in the desert but also because of the chilling tales he had heard of Haider Ali and his gang of dacoits. They were notorious for creeping out of the shadows of the night and robbing anyone attempting to cross the desert. While the children had very little to worth robbing, Adrian recalled quite well the ominous stories he had heard of the dacoits’ cruelty. People spoke in fearful whispers of how they would harm those who did not give them what they wanted; how they did not even spare the women and children. It was said that Haider Ali was the devil incarnate and woe betide anyone who dared cross his path. Adrian had heard of the child trafficking and slavery rings that ran in the desert and shuddered at the thought of his sweet, innocent little sister having to go through any of that. Silvia, though blissfully unaware of her brother’s horrifying thoughts and the true dangers they faced, felt a chill go through her (separate from the dropping temperatures) and found herself praying for a saviour.

 

The sun was but a streak of red on the distant horizon when Silvia's prayer was answered. A lone figure, sitting straight backed and proud on his camel and looking much like an angel dressed in white was riding up to them. He should have seemed ethereal, an illusion born out of desperation and the desert heat, but there was something about his presence that was unignorably real. He came to a stop before the trio, his brow furrowed in concern. He was a lithe man, probably in his early thirties, with a kind smile and warm brown eyes. He introduced himself as Ali, a merchant who often passed through the desert, and asked them what they were doing so late, alone, in the middle of nowhere. Warily, Adrian recounted their story to the rather charismatic stranger, his eyes still scanning for others in fear that it may be a trap. But the man seemed to be genuinely sympathetic to their troubles and worried about their well-being. Slowly, Adrian found himself disregarding his misgivings and relaxing. Ali hadn’t even made a single unfriendly gesture let alone an indication of actual malice. Perhaps he was sincere in his concern and could direct them to some place where they could get help.   

 

It turned out that Ali did far more than that. He gave them water from his own canteen and asked them to mount his camel. He led them to a ramshackle house near an actual oasis. Complete with a clear pond and a grove of date palms, the place seemed almost too good to be true. The house was a decrepit thing, barely holding itself upright. It was surrounded by several tents: an encampment set up by Ali’s party of merchants. Adrian couldn’t help but notice that there were very few people about. Then as he felt a shiver go through him, probably a result of the fast dropping temperature, he realised that they were likely wise enough to stay indoors at night.

 

Ali instructed a group of women to tend to Sarah and a couple of men to clear a place for Silvia and Adrian to spend the night. He cautioned the siblings against leaving the house without informing him, especially at night as there were several kinds of venomous snakes in the region who were not only capable of harming them but also eager to do so (‘A curious description for an animal acting on instinct,’ Adrian mused). He then directed them to what seemed to be the kitchen of the house. Ali handed them some more water and a bowl of dates, apologising for the lack of proper food and explaining that they always made just enough to satisfy those eating at that time. The children were too famished to care about the paltry meal. They were extremely thankful for the simple dates.

 

Ali turned out to be a remarkable storyteller. He entertained the siblings by weaving fantastic tales of perilous journeys and cunning rescues until even their wonder over his words could not surpass their tiredness. The events of the day were catching up to them. At this point, he showed them to the tiny room in which they would spend the night. Before leaving, Ali promised them that he would send riders to look for their parents the first thing in the morning and added, with a calm certainty, that he had no doubt that they would eventually be found. This earned him a tight hug and a beatific smile from Silvia and a heartfelt and somewhat overwhelmed “Thank you” from Adrian.    

 

The morning was heralded by a truly splendid sunrise that held Adrian spellbound and unmoving as he gazed outside the little window in their room. As the golden sunrays illuminated his sister’s sleeping form, bringing her closer to wakefulness, he could not help but marvel over their miraculous rescue. The chances of them finding help had been so slim that they were almost negligible. Yet they found Ali, or perhaps he found them, someone not only willing but also able to help: a true blessing, a heaven-sent angel in human form. Adrian could not even begin to articulate the depth of his gratitude for their saviour.

 

Later that day, Ali suggested that they spend some time with the other merchants and their families while he tended to some matters that required his attention. Silvia spent the morning learning basic first aid, for both people and camels, from the many women at the camp, while Adrian went with the men to gather dates. It will almost afternoon when they joined the five other children in the camp for a dip into the oasis. While everyone they met was extremely amicable, Adrian could not help but think that they were being assessed constantly. An irrational conclusion given that there seemed to be not a single face around that was not wearing a beaming smile nor a single pair of eyes that were not overflowing with warmth. It was hard to maintain any amount of suspicion when met with such outward acceptance. Amongst these people they could barely remain cognizant of the fact that they were strangers in a strange place.

 

Ali joined them for lunch in the kitchen along with some other men and women, all of whom seemed to hold him in extremely high regard. His every word was heard and heeded and they seemed honoured by his very presence, vying for his attention. Ali in turn treated his people with respect and unfailing politeness. The man’s regal, almost magnetic presence once again made itself known as he sat in his rickety chair as though it were a throne.   

 

Silvia was just about to finish her desert, a delicious cake made of dates, when an unfamiliar man entered. He walked up to Ali and said something too low for either of them to hear. Ali smiled a softly, and gestured for them to accompany him. The three made their way out of the camp and into a little grove of date palms. For a brief moment Adrian wondered if the sight that greeted them was a mirage: it seemed too chimerical, too incredible to actually be true. Silvia apparently had no such qualms, and immediately launched herself into their mother’s waiting arms.

 

Their reunion was long and rather tearful, with the children clinging to their parents and the adults unwilling to let them leave the protective circle of their arms. Once the little family found themselves somewhat calmed with the reassurance that they were together, Adrian’s mother addressed Ali. “Kind sir,” she began, her voice soft and overflowing with gratitude, “We must thank you for looking after our children and bringing us to them. We owe you a debt of gratitude that I fear we can never fully repay.” “I could hardly leave them at the mercy of child traffickers,” was Ali’s bland response, “I did what I am sure anyone in my position would have done.” Their father looked at Ali with something akin to admiration and said, “You have gone above and beyond the call of duty, sir. Please allow us to give you a token of our gratitude.” The next few minutes were spent arguing about Ali’s reward until he conceded to accepting some gift from them. Adrian’s father handed him a red bag with golden drawstrings, filled with coins.

 

After the children bade everyone in the camp a reluctant goodbye, the family mounted on their respective camels. Adrian and Silvia rode with their parents this time both to give Sarah some rest and to prevent such an event from occurring again. Ali watched them leave with a pleased smile. It was just after their camels had started moving that Adrian’s mother asked for the full name of their mysterious angel. Ali smile widened, becoming a touch too sharp to be considered friendly. His eyes seemed to grow piercing; his gaze intense. His calm voice cut through the air like a blade when he spoke, “My name is Ali, Haider Ali.” And he disappeared amongst the trees before anyone would react to the astonishing proclamation.

 

Later when his father found all their saddlebags completely empty save for a certain red bag with gold drawstrings filled with coins, Adrian could not even bring himself to be surprised. He realised now that the world was not a design in snow and ink. Sometimes the line between devil and angel could be a blurry one indeed.