Thursday, February 01, 2007

Al Malaki and the Shaman of Zarkaban

Scheherazade:

Once upon a time in a land far way from the reign, there was a shaman who pitched his tent behind the dunes of Zarkaban. The shaman and his holly junds, who dressed in tunics and cloaks, gathered to psychpomp drumbeats and danced all night so an axis mundi could transport their souls above and beyond.

When one day Al Malaki (the boy who lived!) was told by the owls - Qaddu and Abdu of the wizardry, of Zahra (Venus in Arabic) of Zarkaban (with little head and giant visage) Al Malaki at once reached to his sacred globule and broke it into pieces and took the magical wand, and he zoomed on a back of an Azande ostrich to reach the Land of Zarkaban.

There he flung his cape and gestured with the magical wand and immediately bees upon bees from the McDonald’s land flew over the shaman’s tent with muster and red ketchup, and all that beneath turned into big Mc-meats and extra French Fries!

Later Qaddu and Abdu of the wizardry spoke of the Zahra of Zarkaban and his psychotropic substance that he took so he could enter the spirits land.

But, master Shahryar, the story was not like that at all. It was a broken heart love story written by Omar Khayyam. You see, Fatima the sister of boy Hassan was in love and secretly married to Zahra of Zarkaban, and how many nights she cried at her lodge when Zahra took to the gates of sands.

But her brother who turned Sultan over night had since wanted to rule Zarkaban, and finally agreed to trade with Anbarabad bows and arrows and he promised Zahra that when the land would become his then he would appoint him the Shaman of Zarkaban.

Alas, master Shahryar, Qaddu and Abdu of the wizardry, who loath each other too, eavesdropped and brought Zahra of Zarkaban life to a sad fate and broke Fatima’s heart. But some say Zahra’s spirit still lingers on.

Ah, Master Shahryar, the morning has broken and the rooster has awaken and you are tired so as I. Next time I will tell you the story of boy George – no master, it’s not the singer! and the crude beneath the sand sandals of Basrabad.


Abdul Zahra (worshiper of Venus) The Shaman of Zarkaban

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