Ashkan remembered that his mother always smelt of rain. Maybe it was her wet hair after a bath, maybe it was the bark she brushed her teeth with, maybe it was her tears that fell silently in the cloudless night; but that was the only fragrance that gave him hope.
Amir’s nostrils, on the other hand, were singed. The fragrance of rain buried, forgotten, under the mountains of scorching sand. But Amir had not forgotten his mother’s stories. He remembered tales of her grandfather outrunning the inching sand, leading the remnants of his family out in search of an oasis. As fate would have it, he found it. They called it ‘Sehara’.
But Sehara was no longer an oasis. The desert had caught up with them and the houses built lovingly by great-grandfathers of lore, to weather rain and flood, were now battered and broken by sandstorms.
When their mother died, Amir vowed to water the shifting earth with his sweat, his blood so be it, so that Ashkan, his younger brother, would never have to feel what they had lost. Amir would feel it for the both of them. Amir would protect the story, the myth of his grandfather. He would fight for Sehara.
But then…
“We need to leave, Amir,” said Ashkan one night in the reprieve of heat, “We need to leave like our grandfather did all those years ago. This land is dust and nothing more.”
“Leave! How dare you speak of such things?”, spat Amir, “Our mother was born here. This is where she… died. How would we take her spirit with us? Do we abandon her to suffer alone? Are you so heartless, Ashkan?”
“Our mother’s spirit is not trapped here, brother. You are mistaken. In death, she is free. It is we who are trapped. Not just in our bodies tortured by the heat but trapped… in her memory. That isn’t what she would have wanted.”
“How would you know? You were a but child when she died.”
“Because I… I remember. I remember her fragrance. And that is how I know that she isn’t here anymore. If you really cared about our mother then you’d come with me, we can go to where the-”
Amir slapped Ashkan to the ground. The force shook the earth and released the daytime heat trapped under the sand. The ground beneath Sehara burned and sizzled
“People of Sehara! Our great-grandfathers built this town with their bare hands back when it was just an untamed oasis. What was once a town bountiful with rain has since been overrun by sand. But this is still where my great-grandfather’s spirit resides.” Amir stood on a platform and addressed the growing crowd of townsfolk.
“My friends, our town’s name once invoked the joy of a marriage, of union. Now, though, it is indistinguiable with the unbearable desert. If our forefathers were alive they would weep. They would weep at how we’ve wasted their hard work. This is an insult to their memory!”
The crowd breathing in the heavy desert air cheered at Amir’s words as if they were a cool breeze. “What do you propose?!” someone shouted.
Amir pointed at the large Tower that touched the sky, “That.”
The crowd didn’t dare look up for fear of the blinding sun but everyone knew what Amir referred to. The Tower was built many years into the founding of Sehara to house the wealthy people who had moved in from the desert. The Tower had meant Sehara would finally grow in prosperity. It meant jobs, money and the chance for a better life for all. However, over the years as the desert moved in, the Tower had turned into a scar. While the houses of the common-folk struggled against the harsh winds, the Tower was fitted with the latest advancements in cooling technology.
“We take the Tower and live together in the oasis within!” proclaimed Amir. The crowd jostled and cheered!
Ashkan took a step back. No, thought Askhan, We’re making a mistake…
Ashkan sat outside on the steps of his home and spoke to his friend, Farhad. Amir was at the town hall drawing up plans for the revolt.
“I know of the stories of my grandfather, I’ve heard the tales of the oasis Sehara once was. My mother told them to me when she’d put me and my brother to bed. I also know the sweet smell of rain because of her.”
Reza, who was walking home, overheard Ashkan and stopped to listen.
“What I don’t understand is if taking the Tower is supposed to represent a peaceful life will that mean we won’t have to work? I don’t think so,” said Farhad, “You and I, we’re the best air-condition mechanics they have. We know what those damned machines take to maintain. If all these people start living in the Tower then I can’t imagine ever having a moment’s peace for myself. Can you?”
“You’re right. But they don’t understand that,” said Ashkan, “If you fight a war in the desert all you can hope to win is more sand. The Tower represents nothing. It isn’t immune to the harsh desert, we know that. All our lives will go into maintaining those machines. And that goes for the rest of them, too. No one will have the peace of mind to enjoy what we’ve won. What sort of perfect life is that.”
“It’s just more of the same, if you ask me.”
“But there are still places beyond this barren, blistering earth. Places the desert hasn’t reached yet. Places where… the rain still falls. Our great-grandfathers found Sehara. Maybe our destiny is to leave and find our own…”
“How would we even do that?”
“It’s simple really, said Ashkan, “We’d follow the smell of rain…”
“Do you think your brother would listen to you and call off this attack?” asked Farhad.
“You know that if you just told your brother all this, I’m sure he would listen,” said a voice. In the dark, Ashkan and Farhad saw the silhouette of Reza standing before them.
Ashkan felt his hope grow, “Do you really think so?”
“Sadly,” said Reza, his voice dropping low, “I do.”
Reza raised his arm and struck Ashkan. Farhad jumped up but Reza kicked him to the ground. Farhad watched, moaning and gasping for air, as Reza gagged Ashkan and hoisted him over his shoulder. Ashkan was powerless to resist.
Under the cover of night, Reza carried Ashkan to the gates of Sehara. He creaked opened the side-door and slinked through. The wind whistled, wafting over the rolling dunes in the distance.
“A storms brewing,” said Reza as he threw Ashkan onto the sand, “We can’t have you coming in the way.”
Reza sauntered back into town and sealed the gate behind him.
Ashkan lay bleeding and gagged in the sand. A dust storm roared over the dunes threatening to consume him.
Amir awoke on the day of the revolt and couldn’t find Ashkan. He leaned out of the window and saw Reza sharpening his sword on a wet-stone. “Reza, have you seen Ashkan?”
Reza didn’t flinch, “He’s a child. You shouldn’t concern yourself with him. Today’s a big day.”
“But where has my brother gone? He wouldn’t leave without saying anything,” said Amir.
“I’m sure he’ll be back,” Reza looked at Amir, “It wouldn’t do if everyone found out their leader was preoccupied, now would it?”
Amir, knowing that Reza was right, looked around to see if anyone was watching and retreated back into his house.
Amir pulled on his boots and picked up his hammer but the worry for Ashkan gurgled in the pit of his stomach. The bustle of the crowd gathering, growling outside his door pulled his spirit in one direction, the concern for his brother in another.
Finally, Amir breathed deep and stepped out into the blazing sun, his hammer at the ready.
Ashkan awoke that morning to cuts, abrasions, burning eyes and a parched tongue. He mustered the remainder of his strength and rose to his feet. He didn’t dare look back at the gates of Sehara. As far as he was concerned, they were closed to him forever.
He trudged through the infinite expanse of blinding, boiling desert.
The Battle of the Tower had lasted a full three days and two nights. The Swine of the Tower, as they had come to be called, put up a fight but eventually there were none left to bear arms. The final day was spent searching for survivors, women and children of the Swine, kept in secret hiding spots built out of fear for a day such as this.
Amir let slip his bloody hammer and dropped into an oversized armchair on the top floor of the Tower. He gazed listlessly at a large painting adorning the wall in front of him. It was a painting of the oasis, as it once was. Amir tried to suck the coolness from the colours of the painting but his mind was spinning. His body dripped with sweat and blood. It was hotter and brighter here than it he’d ever known it. Amir stumbled to the full-sized window and realised he was closer to the heat of the sun. He moved to the thermostat and cranked it all the way down to sub-zero temperatures but the cooling vents merely groaned. Amir collapsed to the floor. Reza rushed in and upon, seeing his commander in a heap, smiled.
A soldier called out, “Sir, the cooling vents have developed a fault. We can’t find any of the mechanics. Ashkan is-”
“There must be others!” spat Reza.
“There is, sir. Farhad. But we can’t find him, either…”
Reza growled.
“They’re saying the best they can do is close off the vents in other parts of the Tower to focus more cooling in specific parts but engineers would have to know which ones,” said the soldier.
“Now that’s more like it,” Reza purred, “Bring them to me!”
Ashkan legs burned as he climbed the dunes. He wanted to breathed deep to replenish his muscles with much needed oxygen but he had already breathed in too much sand. He wanted to cough but his throat was already bleeding.
Just then, behind him, he heard a rumble. He turned groggily and, through his hazy vision, saw a bike approaching him, zig-zagging up the dune.
The bike eventually stopped next to Ashkan. Farhad smiled as he gestured Ashkan to hop into the side-carriage. “Why did you follow me?” Ashkan shouted over the wind.
“I thought about what you said,” shouted Farhad, “Even if they take the Tower they’ll still call me to fix those damned air-conditioners. There’s nothing in that Tower but more work for me,” said Farhad.
“You realise I don’t know where I’m going,” said Ashkan as he trudged towards Farhad.
“I know. But you said you still remembered the smell of rain. I never knew it to begin with,” Farhad revved the bike as Ashkan melted into the carriage next to him, “I guess what I’m saying is, I’d rather take my chances with your nose than their sword.”
“What about Baran?” asked Ashkan.
“She never really got back to me about the whole ‘I’m in love with her’ thing. Ah well, guess it wasn’t meant to be.”
The bike tipped over the edge of the dune and they zoomed down faster than the wind. Ashkan felt like he was flying.
Amir awoke ten days later in the Tower Infirmary. The air was still hot but not as hot as it was at the top. The Infirmary was full of people suffering from the scorching heat. Amir stumbled to his feet and dragged his IV along the corridor as he surveyed the consequences of his noble madness.
His brothers were suffering deep wounds of battle, forced to heal in excruciating heat. This isn’t what Amir had envisioned. He stopped when he heard gentle weeping floating through the groans and cries of the wounded. He found, in the corner, a nurse whose name was Baran and begged her to tell him what had happened.
“The Tower traps heat,” she sobbed, “The cooling vents don’t work like we were promised. And there’s no one to fix them. Farhad is-” The nurse fell back into tears, overcome with emotion.
“Why are we still here?” asked Amir but the nurse couldn’t respond. A doctor came up behind him and spat, “Shouldn’t you know, oh great leader? Aren’t your men acting on your orders?”
Amir turned to see the a delicate glass synringe in the doctor’s vice-like fist. The synringe burst and blood ran down his fingers onto the floor but the doctor didn’t flinch.
Amir knew everything had spiralled out of control.
At the top floor Amir discovered a dark den where Reza held court. His loyalists had drawn the curtains and bathed the room in the cool light of the chandeliers. The room, somehow, was cold.
Amir walked through what looked like a gamblers den and finally saw Reza on the oversized armchair that was now his throne.
“Reza, what are you doing?” Amir pleaded.
Reza smirked at the broken Amir.
“This isn’t what we set out to do,” said Amir.
“Of course it is,” said Reza maganimously, “This was always the plan. Look around you. Feel the air. We did it!”
Amir’s sweat threatened to freeze him.
“Join me, won’t you?” said Reza as his loyalists brought out another smaller armchair and placed it next to Reza’s throne.
Amir took a step back.
Reza knew this would happen.
“Your rebellion was well-intentioned, Amir. But you always missed the point. The people of the Tower were able to build their private oasis but it would never support the entire town. You wanted us to live in here just as we lived down there, but that was never possible.
To overthrow the powerful doesn’t mean you ensure an equitable future. It only means you can finally sit where they sit. You still need those who serve. That is the nature of power.
I understand that. That’s why I sit here,” said Reza.
Amir knew that Reza was right. He wondered whether he had always known this and just didn’t want to accept it. Ashkan had told him once- Ashkan.
“Where is Ashkan?” asked Amir. Reza laughed.
“I knew he could influence you. I couldn’t have you change your mind, now could I?”
“What did you do with him?” Amir’s blood ran cold.
“I threw him out,” Reza smiled as he ate a chilled date off a platter, “Do yourself a favour, Amir. My offer still stands. You did well. Now rest. Take your place next to me. Enjoy the power you have earned.”
Amir’s heart sank as he dragged his feet behind him and left the room. The corridor outside was filled with sunlight and his refused to eyes to adjust to the brightness. He held his arm over his eyes and fell to his knees. His breathing labored, the heat made it feel like inhaling gulps of water. It felt like drowning on dry land.
The smiling face of his brother filled Amir’s mind and he screamed in anguish.
Farhad and Ashkan labored through the merciless desert. Their bike spluttered to a halt three days ago but they didn’t let that stop them. They carried the supplies on their backs and continued their journey.
Their bodies were burnt, their breathing was labored, their limbs struggled to wade through deep sand but they didn’t complain. When Farhad’s foot sank too deep Ashkan held out his arm. When Ashkan tripped out of confusion, Farhad helped him orient himself once again. The two friends had nothing in that vast, volcanic land more valuable than their faith in each other.
Half way up a dizzyingly tall dune Farhad and Ashkan took a break.
“We’ve been walking up this dune for so long it feels like it could be a mountain,” said Farhad as he drank a sip of bubbling hot water, “What do you think, are we higher up than the Tower here?”
From that height Farhad felt like he could see past the horizon. He glanced over at Ashkan who sat facing the dune. Farhad chuckled, “You know this whole ‘never looking back’ thing is getting a little ridiculous.”
“There’s nothing left for me there,” said Ashkan dryly.
“I get that but I’m just saying it’s impractical.” Farhad returned the bottle of water to his bag and looked up. Something was glinting in the distance.
“What’s that?” said Farhad as he got up to get a better look.
Ashkan wasn’t listening. He could feel a slight wind and closed his eyes. Something about the wind made his heart skip a beat. Ashkan left everything and pulled himself up the dune as fast as he could.
Farhad blocked the sun out with his hand and peered into the distance.
Ashkan reached the top of the dune. The wind was stronger here. It blew the rough sand off his face and, once again, made him feel like he was flying.
“Ashkan! They’re coming! They’re coming, look!” screamed Farhad.
Farhad guffawed in jubilation as he saw a crowd of people walking over from where Sehara would have been. They followed thefootsteps and tyre tracks left behind by Ashkan and Farhad.
“Do you think Baran is with them? God, I hope she is!” Farhad, elated, shined a mirror to show them the way.
For the first time in ten days Ashkan allowed himself to look back. He saw the crowd and hoped, like Farhad, that his brother was amongst them. He wanted to share this moment with him, he wanted him to feel the wind. He wanted him to open his singed nostrils and remember…
At the top of that dune, Ashkan could remember his mother more clearly than ever before. For it was there, on that cool breeze, that Ashkan could finally smell the fragrance of rain once more.
If you liked this then you might also like:
Author’s Notes & Audio Read Along
Where The Rain falls is a story of some intrigue for me personally because it
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to White Mirror to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.