One night I dreamt of a stunning panoramic view of rich desert landscape. I saw a beautiful girl on horseback racing through desert sands. She kept looking over her shoulder laughing at this clumsy, awkward-looking boy that was trying his best to catch her. I realized her name was Fatima.

Dream Written in the Present Tense

Fatima’s father is the leader of a powerful nomadic clan of horse-warriors in this desert region. I don’t know the boy’s name. No one ever seems to care what his name is, not even the girl, who probably likes him best of all. This young man is the only one crazy enough to risk her wrath in the hopes of winning her smile. Fatima’s typical expression is fierce and haughty. She didn’t even know how to laugh until he started chasing her. This young man is the goofiest thing that ever managed to make his way onto a horse’s back. For the purpose of the dream, I will call him “Horse Clown.”

Horse Clown was born an orphan. With no particular skill at fighting and no family to protect him, he became quickly adept at creative ways of winning people over as he learned to negotiate life within this violent tribe. When he was still a small child, Horse Clown fell in love with Fatima. Only Horse Clown ever sought to know her on a personal level. Horse Clown was born with the eyes and the heart of a rare seer that can see straight through the facade of others into their deepest hearts. With great ease, Horse Clown has always seen clearly through Fatima’s terrifying savagery into her starving humanity. Her vulnerability calls out to his deep capacity for romance and courage.

Fatima is no ordinary woman, and her status is not due to who her father is, but rather to what she is. She is a true daughter of the sands, a horse master, and a warrior so uncannily gifted she outranks even the most experienced male fighters. She was on a horse before she could walk. When she was just a little girl, people realized that when she rides out and calls to the sands, the sands rise up to meet her. Fatima has mastery over her shadow and can call it to leap before her in waves to cover her enemies and fill them with dread. It is her skills in warfare that have earned her unique high status among all the desert tribes.

Fatima moves with savage elegance. To watch her fight is to be captivated and seduced by a beautiful hypnotic dance. She brings death like a butterfly traveling at the speed of light. She moves so quickly, it’s hard to catch all her movements, and at the same time, she appears to move without having to move at all. She’s always at the heart of the conflict at the most decisive moment making the cleanest, bold, appropriate cut. Her confidence is maddening and arousing. I watch her command the sands into waves so that it looks like her horse is surfing on a golden ocean instead of running through desert sands.

For Fatima’s people, a warrior woman is an unnerving perversion of the natural order. However, her skills are too powerful to suppress and too valuable to lose to an enemy. She is revered and tolerated, but everyone falls into a hushed silence whenever she approaches. Long ago, she learned to shield her heart by turning her back on any hopes of being loved. Rather, she set her powerful focus on supremacy and control. She quickly shames every warrior with enough wealth and status to even ask for her hand. She makes any man, no matter how impressive, look like a complete jerk. From the beginning, it seemed Fatima’s fate was sealed to live out her days in lonely isolation.

 

How can Horse Clown ever win such a goddess-like warrior when he can’t even walk from one side of a tent to another without tripping and upending every basket he comes near? His only talent is in making people laugh and inspiring them to work together harmoniously even when they are more inclined to fight. He is secretly loved by all, but no one takes him seriously. These are a people who respect death and those with the ability to deliver it swiftly.

The situation seems hopeless for Fatima and Horse Clown, except his buoyant spirit won’t let him despair. He has witnessed the sunrise of Fatima’s first smile and has inspired the miraculous sound of her laughter. These wonders have led him to believe everything is possible, so he stays true to his quest to win her heart.

One day, as the clan is preparing to meet an enemy clan in war, the clumsy young man has an idea. I watch from high in the air as Fatima’s clan meets another tribe in battle. Fatima slices through the opposing force like a surgical knife making a clean incision through the breast of the desert. She cuts down men like dripping-sweet fruit from a tree. Even the enemy has to sigh in admiration at her style. It’s like watching cherry blossoms fall in spring.

She calls the sand to move in an undulating dance that mesmerizes everyone who sees it. Then she knocks a man down off his horse and pulls back her spear in a graceful arc. Just as she is about to thrust the spear through the fallen man’s heart, he throws off his head-cloth and yells, “Fatima! Wait! It’s me, Horse Clown! Don’t kill me!”

For the first time in her life she is struck dumb and bewildered. She sees this enemy is none other than Horse Clown who never tires of looking like a fool in pursuit of her. This is the only person who has ever made her laugh. She also notices for the first time that he has covered himself in flowers that are impossible to grow in the desert.

“What are you doing, you jackass? I almost killed you!” she roars.

The flustered young man begs forgiveness saying, “I knew no matter how good I got at riding horses, I would never catch you. I realized that the only man you will rise to meet is the enemy you have decided to kill, and it came to me! I would have to rise up as your enemy if I was ever going to win your attention long enough to speak my love for you. And it worked! You are here, and I love you! What can I do to make you mine?”

Never one for small talk or formalities, Fatima doesn’t say anything.

She gets off her high horse, kisses him passionately, proceeds to tie him up, and throw him like so much plunder on his own horse. She leads him and his horse back to her people and claims both him and his flowers as her lifelong captive and husband. Although her failed suitors and her father are initially outraged that she should choose a man of low material wealth and warrior status, no one dares to say a word against her. Eventually the whole clan embraces the unconventional marriage, for Horse Clown brings much joy and laughter to this fierce people in a harsh world.

 

 

Photo Credits: Feature image by Moonlight13 of goodfon.com

solo figure on sand crest by Brasil_1 of goodfon.com

final desert image by Magnus_maximus of goodfon.com