Reflections on the Unfinished Novel, “Aliyah”

In 2017, at the peak of my adventurous spirit and love for literature, I began writing a novel titled “Aliyah”. It was initially drafted to be inclined towards the war and strategy genre, however, upon working intensely with the character development of the key protagonists of the novel, I quickly realised how essential it was to put more focus on the much more personal aspects of the lives of the key protagonists. After all, a man is what happened to him, as much as what he chose to become. This shift of focus was to the extent that a great portion of the novel was introduced to familiarise the audience with not only the personal background of the protagonists but also how they felt and processed the tragedies they went through in their life.

This semi-historical account took place on the westwards border of Asia minor on the lands of what was then called Anatolia. The novel was set in the pre-Ottoman era, at the very end of the 11th century. When even though great empires like the Seljuks existed, they remained divided into smaller principalities, and hence as history witnessed later, they were soon broken to be succeeded by smaller states, before eventually making their way to become a part of the Ottoman empire. The semi-historical account of Aliyah highlighted the history of one such tribe, the Fatimids. A small tribe, geographically gifted to be extremely safe and full of potential growth. It was situated adjacent to a wide and strongly erect mountain range, slanted inwards towards the tribe, shaping a slope such that it was possible for the people of the Fatimids to climb up the mountain range conveniently and use this as a natural vantage point. This would allow them to great advantage towards any army marching towards them, as they would be able to see them coming from miles away, with ample time for them to prepare a response. This was essential in such times where several small principalities existed with often heated relationships between them, creating an environment such that each lived on borrowed times. The children in most of these principalities surrounding the Seljuk territories would grow up preparing for battle, the men would spend ages perfecting the art of battle and the women would say their vows to their men every morning before they depart for the day, knowing well enough that how realistic was the probability that this would be the last time they see them. While this was the general trend of every other state in the region, The Fatimids were different.

The situation at the Fatimid tribe was rather much more peaceful. This was greatly due to the highly advantageous geographical situation of the Fatimid tribe, and the great reputation of bravery and valour that the tribe had gathered since the past century through the selfless sacrifice of the tribe’s army, achieving consecutive victories over any who challenged them. This made it so that no enemy in sight had dared to attack them since decades. And hence the situation of the tribe was much more stable and peaceful. The tribe was not only gifted geographically in terms of the natural defence barricades. The northern borders of the Fatimids also opened the doors of the tribe to the abundant treasures of the world. On the north-western side was a vast, rich, and potential full coastline. The other end of the northern border made its ways right into the heart of Asia major and Asia’s or arguable the world’s most profitable route known as the Grand bazar, making its path through the busiest streets of Iran all the way up to the metropolitans of China. Access to this route would not only mean the incredible convince to sell one’s good upwards in the most popular marketplace of the world, but there was another trick up the sleeve of the highly strategic inhabitant of these rich lands, taxes. When the only possible route for any such high-demand area were to be through a route under the possession of a certain tribe, they would tax it highly, allowing themselves to profit immensely without even selling their own good. The tribe of Fatimids had done so too. This allowed them to return unimaginable profits as this route remained the most strategic path to the heart of Asia major and all parties, whether with monetary of political benefits in mind would pass through them, making the Fatimids rich in the progress. These high profits coupled with the naturally well protected structure of the tribe meant an everlasting era of prosperity for the Fatimids.

The people of the tribe themselves were equally marvellous and talented. Governed by a generous and merciful Sultan, Sultan Zain ul Abadeen III, whom the people loved as much as he himself loved his people. Perhaps such is the account of kingship since forever. That the king bestows generosity over his people in a countless manner but the only channel through which they can receive these gifts is through reciprocation of the love. Whether or not is every layman capable of reciprocating that love the fullest remains varied, but the fountains of abundant generosity of the king remain open. Sultan Zain ul Abadeen III belonged to a renowned lineage of kings. His great grandfather, Sultan Zaid al Fatimid, remained a legendary figure to not only the Fatimids but several adjacent tribes too. He fought his way through turmoil and established the Fatimid tribe. Perhaps his valour remained a key element in keeping the tribes around off the borders, as evidently there were no conflicts let alone attacks on the tribe. Hence his reign initiated the era of complete serenity. Soon after his death, the flag of leadership was passed on to his eldest son, Sultan Zain ul Abadeen I, and this custom continued with the current sultan, Sultan Zain ul Abadeen III being the fourth in this line of succession.

The legacy of all the previous Sultans remained pivotal upon academics. They emphasised the need of education and developed highly productive educational institutes. The taxation of their route provided the tribe enough to bring about the golden age for the tribe. There was an immense amount of money flowing in from outside, and the king was generous enough to spend it on the people. This brought up a highly passive pace of people in the tribe, as it eliminated to great extents the need for tedious labour work for the layman to provide for their family. The king would allocate quotas for everyone in the tribe and in return expected them to excel in the skill of their choice. The Fatimids built excellent skill-focused institutes, and many went on the become artists and scholars from them. There was one skill that remained banned in this heaven of education, however. It was the skill of war, swordsmanship, archery, or any form of fighting. The Sultans had long believed that such form of violence should not be taught to the people as this might introduce violence within the tribe. And with virtually everything else taken care of personally by the state, there was little to no reason to complain about this niche ban. While from one perspective it made ample sense that the idea of violent skills, whether it be brute force of weaponry, was in obvious contradiction with the haven of educationists and academics that the Sultan envisioned. There were some however, who seemed to disagree, as we shall discover when we further unveil the story.

The novel focused on the key protagonist, named Taimur Akbar. A young, handsome, and exceptionally bright gentlemen. A tall and moderately lean figure, often dressed in elegantly formal mid-century style Anatolian suits. He had a white complexion and a bright, smooth-shaven face of exquisite structure, coupled by beautiful light-hazel eyes and moderately slick-backed hair. He was a man of great charm and charisma. He was warm and friendly, the kind who would make you feel welcomed with his formal enough manner of dealings, while at the same time letting you know that you could be informal enough around him to be comfortable and relaxed. He was the type you would come to advice for, the type who would reassure you that anything you are going through is not the end of the world, the type you would bury secrets with. Everything from his relaxed, controlled body language to his gentle and reassuring manner of speech conveyed a sense of comfort.

He was initially a layman, who rose to ranks within the educational institutes and became a highly renowned academic over a short span of time. While Taimur’s father, Akbar, was also an academic with decades of experience in the field of education, Taimur however outdid him in every measure. Or perhaps he excelled over almost everyone in the tribe, going on the became the deputy education advisor to the Sultan himself. Taimur was an excellent prodigy, an extremely fast learner. He was, however, by no means a visionary, a dreamer, or an idealist. Perhaps this is the tragedy of he who faces no challenge. He does not crave them anymore. A young boy who was gifted beyond measure in his abilities does not grow up looking up to anything, because it just might be so because there is very little above him to look up, as he has grasped all and put under him. The top of the hill is lonely. There is no challenge, no summit to look up to. Perhaps so was the case of Taimur. He quickly went on to master every skillset thrown at him, leaving very little unconquered. He went on the become the youngest academic in his tribe to master all primary skills. He mastered them all by the age of 25, while even the brightest of them had reached their forties mastering a few. Taimur however, was not introspective enough at the time to realise that the fire for more, that keeps one alive, is missing in him. In his own world, he was content.

The elderly of the tribe believed that god himself looks to this that every man and woman get a partner of their fit. Hence it was rightfully so that Taimur, a man of exceptional talent, would be written to his match. The Sultan had a beautiful young daughter named Aliyah. She was an exception in all measurable means of beauty. She had a moderately tall height, not tall enough to be considerate unfeminine and not short enough to tip the balance off her perfection. She was a perfect blend of proportions, a remarkable work of nature, an immaculate work of art, perhaps attended to every single detail by god himself. She was a statement of beauty, perhaps the source of beauty herself. Anything she stood next to, let alone touched, would seem beautiful for eternity. She had tremendously gorgeous, long black hair. She would often keep them split to either one side or all the way back, letting them flow open as they reached all the way down her lower back, where they would disperse in the most beautiful messy, fluffy curve. While she would often cover them with delightful pastel-coloured scarfs, but at times she would let them flow down and expose them to the wind as she would let them dry. While when dry they would be silky enough to be indifferent from velvet, the dilemma of her beauty was that this same silky hair would be thick, strong, beautiful, seemingly chains of silk, when wet. Every now and then the winds of her balcony were lucky enough to experience these chains of silk as she let them dry. She had a bright complexion, bright enough to bring the day in a dark night. She had a wide forehead often bordered by her perfectly placed scarf, flawlessly thin curvy eyebrows, cute, idyllic eyelashes that would often contrast with her darkish-brown, unparalleled, mesmerising eyes. This Aphrodite had a bewitching, irresistible, and alluring smile, one could stare at for hour. As she would smile, her charming cheeks would form an enchanting dimple on each side. She was resistant of glossing her ruby red lips and let them kiss the winds bare. This charm of her face was only quadrupled by her immensely glamours figure. Her thin arms and unparalleled silky-smooth fingers, often nail painted with the colours of the world, her flawless figure, precisely perfect breadth of shoulder, leading down, narrowing to form her alluring figure of an irresistibly beautiful back, and long graceful legs, all coming together to complete her, like a work of art, a magnificent work of art.

Aliyah was no ordinary girl, she was a princess, adored with all the luxuries in the world. Dressed in elegant gowns and jewellery. But she was a humble girl. She was calm and composed, as she was taught to be, to befit the persona of a princess. Yet in her inner most circles she was jolly and playful. She would often spend her time around the royal institute of education, which was just adjacent to the palace of Sultan himself. Taimur would also spend a great deal of time around this institute as he was a renowned academic here, he would often conduct classes tutoring, or at times studying in solitude. Aliyah had seen Taimur around several times, yet they both had never talked and interacted directly. Now Aliyah and Taimur, were only as much alike in personality as much as they were opposite. It was as if everything missing from one was there in the other, craved out in a way that they would fit perfectly together. Taimur was a formal, decent man who believed that this was the right manner for him to conduct. He had grown up around the educational institute, around the royal men and academics and had only learned to become so. It was also that he was burdened with education since his childhood and was taught to pursue that path even if unconsciously. Since the Sultan valued education a lot, the best way to rise to ranks and live a successful life in the Fatimids was to excel in the education sector. Perhaps in the process, he never got to live a careless childhood. Similarly, Aliyah was brought up in a strictly formal royal environment, trained since day one to behave formally and appropriately. In a way, they both were taught since day one to morph a certain way to meet the society’s expectations.

Now, while Aliyah had realised that she was robbed off her childhood, she wanted to ensure that she can get away with rebellion as much as possible, without damaging the reputation of the royal family. So her response was to live life to the fullest, be all crazy and childish she wants to be, but within a very small, trusted circle. This included a very few select close friends of Aliyah whom she grew up with. Aliyah was instructed by her father to never let this side out, never let a non-royal family member know that the princess of the tribe is such childish, as she was warned that you never know who amongst us looks like a well-wisher but might be hatching the vilest schemes. While Aliyah for most of her life was okay with this decision, she did however sometimes she felt like she wanted to break through. She wasn’t particularly interested in letting the entire tribe or random strangers seeing an unfiltered side of her as she was also afraid of her father’s warning. She was afraid of opening to someone and finding out that this person has evil intentions towards the tribe or the royal family, and hence the fear of these parameters would at times suffocate her. Taimur on the other hand, had been ignorant still of such realisation. This was the only way of life he had seen, and he seemed to be fine continuing living life so. Taimur needed someone to show him that there is more to life than just books, someone to show him how to live his twenties, carelessly and freely. Aliyah needed someone that she could trust enough to show her true side to.

The institute would often remain empty at night, with the exception being Taimur occasionally spending his night staying and working in the library. One night, Taimur stayed in working.  But that night was different, it was not like any other night. That night was heavy. Even though it was a calm night, with clear skies and cool breeze. But it felt heavy. It was perhaps the first night in Taimur’s life when, for the first time the otherwise extremely content Taimur felt uneasy. He felt empty and numb, yet full of chaos and turmoil. He felt as if everything had ended suddenly, yet as if something magnificent was about to begin. Taimur forced himself to snap back to reality a few times, trying to fight the feeling of uneasiness. It was the first time in past two decades and more, that Taimur outrospected the perspective of his life, only to zoom out, break away the tradition of being enchanted in books since forever, and for once, looked around him. The realization didn’t help ease his eeriness. He felt more and more uncomfortable as he realized that it was past midnight and there sat Taimur buried in a pile of books. He looked around to force himself back into the delusion of normality only to see the reality of his solitude in the face. He felt frightened as he saw the huge hall of library, completely empty, with no shadow let alone a man in sight. It was as if his emptiness had stared him right in the face. An attack he never anticipated. He was perplexed and baffled, sweating profusely, with his heartbeat racing as if his chest would explode. He felt the abyss take over as the eerie sensation would start swallowing him whole. It rose from his feet up, the sense of numbness and unfamiliarity to the point where he could not feel half his body. His hands shivered as if resisting and fighting the numbness, finally it would get to his head, to the point that he felt the world spinning furiously, and that he was about to faint. Now Taimur, while a man of intellect merely, was a strong man. Not only physically, but mentally and morally too. He knew that it was beyond him for any such sensation to take over him. So he did what men do best. He fought. He forced himself to snap out of it, and stumbling and crawling, he ran out of the hall, into the balcony looking for some fresh air.

As he stepped into the balcony suddenly the eeriness was gone. The unsettling sensation had vanished. It was once again a normal day with the sound of breeze and crickets singing at a cold night. Taimur sat down in the balcony for a while, too confused to even fathom what had just happened. “Maybe I am just exhausted, I should get some rest” said Taimur to himself as he let a sigh of relief out. Just as Taimur was about to get up and leave, he noticed a vague figure in the balcony just across. Not expecting anyone to be around the library at that time, Taimur was confused as to who could that be at this hour. Just in this split second of Taimur trying to figure out who would that be, the silhouette of the one standing in the shadows kept on increasing in size, as if they were coming closer. Finally this shadow unveiled themselves from behind the curtains, to reveal that there stood in front of Taimur, the princess of the tribe, Aliyah. Taimur’s pupil dilate as he beholds the beautiful princess, standing in front of him, looking him in the eyes and giving a sweet and beautiful smile. He had seen her around a couple of times, but only from afar. This was the first time she stood right in front of him in all her glory.

“Are you Taimur Akbar?” asked Aliyah in her dulcet and soothing sound. Taimur, too stunned to process anything, fumbled, and replied “Yes, princess. I am Taimur Akbar.” Aliyah, sensing the tension said “I apologise, I didn’t mean to catch you off guard. My room is just parallel to this balcony, I saw someone sitting there in at this hour, so I came in to check. But I know you, you are often around the library staying overnight so it’s all good”. Taimur replied saying “Apologies are mine princess I didn’t mean to cause inconvenience”. They go on to chat for a bit, but Aliyah kept it formal. She told him that she often spent the night at this balcony, as its calm and quiet. Later, the night went by quickly, Taimur came back to his room, feeling hanging in a state between peace and chaos. It was as of in one night he had experienced both hell and heaven. He experienced the wildest storm from within his soul, but soon followed by the calmest his heart had ever been. Restless, the next night Taimur visited the balcony of the library again, and again and yet again. Night after night Taimur would sit in the balcony, giving himself the excuse that he is studying stars, as he would bring with him a few books on astronomy too. But deep down his heart knew that the real reason he spent the nights there was to catch one glimpse or exchange a few words with the princess. However, several weeks pass by and the princess does not show up at any night on the balcony. Taimur was however persistent enough to spend every night for the rest of his life there. Until one day, after fourteen nights, the princess showed up in the balcony as Taimur sat there forcefully busying himself with astronomy. Taimur greeted the princess and pretended as if he wasn’t there waiting for her, pushing his lie of studying astronomy. They went on to chat again from across the balconies. They shared several things, including their interests and hobbies. This went on to become a tradition. Where, if not every night, almost every other night, the princess would show up in the balcony and they would chat. Taimur, on the other hand, of course, didn’t miss a day staying over at the balcony. 

If one overhead their conversations however, they would assume that it was a one-sided affair. That even though Taimur would pour his heart out in their conversations, Aliyah would remain reserved and say only the least bit required, let alone a deep-seated secret. This was however not because Aliyah did not reciprocate the feelings that Taimur had for her, but rather because even with her heart bursting with yearning for Taimur, her insecurities, of being cheated on by trusting the wrong person remained.

Their midnight chats would go on for a while and both would feel as if their hearts had found their match, even though one was more hesitant to admit it than the other. This perfectly mythical life of midnights would however come to cease one day, without any warning. One night, Taimur and Aliyah stayed up chatting all night, and proceeded to go back to their rooms just near dawn. Aliyah went back and slipped in her bed, while Taimur was still on his way back. With the first ray of sunshine at dawn, a loud bang was heard coming from the Queen’s tower. Taimur, mortified, knowing that is where Aliyah’s room was, rushed towards the burning and collapsing building. Meanwhile, Aliyah, in her room was suffocating with the debris and smoke all around her, collapsed on the floor, accepting that these were her last moments. Just then, a huge block of stones moved aside from the floor of her room, and Taimur crawled in, coughing heavily from ingesting the poisonous fumes all around. He grabbed Aliyah and quickly crawled out of the place just in the nick of time, as the entire building collapsed behind them. There was Aliyah, in the arms of Taimur, as he knelt on the floor, gently creasing her face, sobbing, and begging her to stay alive. Aliyah scoffed and asked Taimur “How did you know where my room was? I lied to you saying I lived in the room across the library hall?” Taimur replied “Don’t be silly, my dear, I know every detail of these buildings, I review their designs every year. I knew from day one that you did not live where you said you did, that you did not study what you said you studied, that your hobbies were not what you told me they were. I knew you too well Aliyah, perhaps from a past life, let not the tradition break, do not leave me, be mine in this life too” Aliyah, burst into tears, sobbingly asked “You just let me lie to you?” “No, I waited for you to be ready to tell the truth” replied Taimur. “What if I was never ready, Taimur?” questioned Aliyah. “Don’t worry, I have lifetimes left to wait, we have to be together in several lifetimes, don’t we?” Said Taimur as he held her hand tightly, pressed it firmly against his forehead and began weeping uncontrollably. “Do not leave me, Aliyah, I had just now begun to learn what it really means to live, to love, and this time to a human who makes you feel whole, not to books who make you feel empty. Please, do not…” begged Taimur. “I am sorry Taimur, I couldn’t open myself to you, but know that my heart belongs to you, in every lifetime” said Aliyah, before she took a sigh, perhaps her last sigh before leaving this mortal world, laying her head in Taimur’s lap, seemingly sleeping, peacefully like a baby. The most beautiful princess to walk the face of earth, left it in the most beautiful way, resting their head in the lap of their beloved. To this day, I doubt, if there is a better way to die, if there is a better way to live.

Taimur kissed her forehead and rested his head against hers, as he continued to cry for seemingly hours as the people gathered around and began their traditions of the world, helping those wounded and taking away those who left us. There seems to be a place for everyone, but none for those who are left behind, whose hearts are taken away by those who left. Taimur spent the next few weeks bedridden. Unable to process what had happened, unable to eat or sleep. Until one day, months later, he barged into the king’s palace, and screamed “This is all your fault! Yours and the ones before you, weaklings and meek! Enjoying on the glory of your forefathers, too cowards to pick up a sword for yourself, for your loved ones, to defend your honour! This is on you!” The Sultan, an old man who had suffered the loss of his young daughter was too exhausted to respond in any way aggressive, he said “Son, we are mourning and so are you. You are a bright man, let not your sorrow overshadow. Accept whatever fate has put our way, it may be difficult, but it is not insufferable” “Fate is for the coward, the strong paves his own path” said Taimur as he walked out of the palace. At the very forefront of the tribe, he stood tall and announced “O people! Till when do you think the glory of your forefathers will keep protecting you? Why are you afraid of taking up the swords and fighting for your honour. What happened that night was not an accident! You count on me to be wiser than most of you, so I say this with full responsibility, it was a devised attack. And if you do not stand up against this now, there will be no tribe left for your precious books to be stored in!”

Taimur’s such announcement was an open challenge to the tribe’s tradition of non-violence lasting generations. The royal council saw it as a direct rebellion to the throne of Sultan and put Taimur on the watchlist. On the other hand Taimur’s claim made several of those with a neutral mind alarmed. They went on to see Taimur in his house, only to find out that the word rebellion was not too far stretched from reality. Taimur had started taking the allegiance from several men in the tribe who believed in his cause to be rational and necessary. But neither were his claims empty nor were his allegiances. Taimur had collected samples from the site of destruction that were tested to show signs of man-made poisonous gas and samples from the debris having leftover flammable chemicals. Taimur put forward these as proof that this was an intentional job done by one of the tribe’s enemies. Taimur believed that these enemies were very close on the verge of wrecking the entire tribe and that they had advanced weapons. The only way to defend the tribe was to break the tradition of non-violence and arm the people for defence of the tribe. There were many who believed in this cause and joined Taimur. Taimur further smuggled swords and weapons into the tribe and began training himself, as well as the people to fight for their honour.

The motive of the initial attack however was still unclear and kept Taimur up at nights. Until one day Taimur would find a strange guest, covering their face enter the Sultan’s palace. This made Taimur suspicious, he waited for the guest to leave and then infiltrated the palace, ending right into the Sultan’s chamber. Taimur interrogated the Sultan as to who he was. Upon further insistence the Sultan confessed that it was a Mongol, they were one of the parties who would use the route through our tribe for their trade. They had previously asked for a tax reduction, but we refused, and they committed the atrocity earlier as retaliation, and now they continued threatening us with destruction and death until we say yes to their terms and conditions. Taimur was furious upon knowing this, and screamed “And you still stand against our cause?” The Sultan reluctantly admits that there is nothing he can do, there are several of them that have infiltrated the royal ranks already and if we speak openly against them, whatever is left of my us will die next. Upon hearing this Taimur calmed down and promised the Sultan to not worry and that he would get the tribe out of this chaos.

Taimur escaped the palace and informed his members of allegiance about this tragedy which further fuelled them to fight and take true control of their tribe back. The allegiance spent day and night mastering their skills of war. One afternoon however, a group of representatives from the Sultan, known as the royal court representatives, headed by the Sultan’s political advisor Rustom, came to Taimur’s house, and informed him how his actions have been deemed a rebellion and he and his allegiance would be arrested for this rebellion. Taimur initially resisted, putting great trust in the fact that they are armed, and the royal representatives are not. However as soon as they started to resist, Taimur is informed by Rustom that they had some extra help if they resisted. A group of Mongol warriors, armed in complete war gear and trained for brutality showed up behind Rustom. Taimur realised that Rustom himself is the head of Mongols that have infiltrated the tribe. Realising that they are out-skilled against Mongol warriors, Taimur and his allegiance choose to stand back from resistance, however at the same time they realised that letting them imprison them would be the end of the mission. Taimur made the tough call of choosing the middle path and ordered them to retreat the field. The Mongols fiercely followed them, and the allegiance had to make the strategic decision of fighting enough to resist them and being able to flee away.

Taimur and his allegiance choose to retreat to the mountains of tribe. The locals were acquaint enough with these mountains from decades to be able to climb them easily and to know all the paths and passages through them. These steep hills were a new challenge for the Mongols however, hence they could neither follow them nor find them here. Back in the tribe, Rustom realised that the Sultan must have let Taimur know about what is going on internally otherwise he would not have been suspicious of the Mongols in the first place. Furious, Rustom imprisoned the Sultan but keept him alive just yet to use his name to conduct his own authority in the tribe. Taimur on the other hand realised that it is impossible to defeat the Mongols on their own. He not only began recruiting more members that could sneak out from within the tribe, but he remained wise enough to understand that unity is the forefront key to survival. Over the period of a few years, Taimur began writing to several smaller tribes around their tribe, as well as to several of those who remained tribe-less. Taimur called upon them to join them for a fight of revival and explained how the Fatimids will only be the first in a long list of ruined tribes by the Mongols.

Rustom however made the mistake of assuming that Taimur and his allegiance had fled off with fear. The Mongols could trace no sign of their movement within the mountains too, hence they assumed the had been dead for years. The Fatimids however were a strong kind of men. They starved and fed off whatever they could find. But never for one moment in years did they forget their task. Years went by and Taimur’s allegiance kept on becoming stronger and stronger, with more and more people being added to it. Finally, the day came when Taimur decided to take revenge and reclaim the tribe. Taimur and his allegiance marched down the mountain in the form a massive army, multiplied many times now from what they were when they fled. All furious and craving for revenge. The Mongols within the tribe now, were unprepared completely for such an attack. Initially the Mongol frontliners attacked to prevent Taimur and his allegiance from entering the tribe, but upon seeing the entire frontliners batch being reduced to pieces in a matter of minutes, the Mongols knew that they did not stand a chance in this battle. Rustom and his closest allies prepared to flee the tribe, only to find that Taimur had taken into consideration very well the situation that they themselves have had fallen victim to once. All the exits of the tribe were heavily guarded by the members of the allegiance, leaving no way for any to escape. Taimur had marched in with a “win or die” mentality today, and there was no escaping for any. The allegiance had surrounded the palace in which the Sultan and Rustom were. The allegiance resisted entering only for the sake of ensuring the Sultan’s safety, and hence they offered Rustom to surrender peacefully. Rustom, however, was petty enough to find such death dishonourable. As this death would not only mean death, but it would mean defeat and death. He wanted to go on his terms, and his terms were anarchy and death. He was as lunatic as a warrior can get, and before the very eyes of the allegiance, he burned down the entire palace, and burst into flames both the Sultan and him.

The allegiance rushed to pour water around the castle and enter in to see if the Sultan was alive. But all they could find was ashes and debris. There stood Taimur, in front of the very same flame that took his beloved years ago. He was not the same week, vulnerable kid, buried in books as he was a decade ago. He had changed. He was wiser, he was stronger, he had accomplished what he set his aim upon. But now, once again, stood Taimur, wondering if it was worth it. Wondering if anything ever has been, would be, or could be worth it after her. Despite the pain, he did not resist in fulfilling his task. He fulfilled it. Did he not spend away his entire life honouring his love and holding sacred his duty? He did what any lover would do. But now, standing before the flames, he thinks to himself “Have I won? or did I lose everything the day I lost her?” A dilemma for the lover indeed, to keep on loving despite burning.

Months passed by, and the destruction had been controlled. The Mongols were defeated. Those of who were left were captured and punished accordingly. Taimur had been elected unanimously as the new king. He ordered a tower to be built to replace the destroyed castle. He ordered it precisely, to have one balcony. At dawn, he stood there and announced “The night of turmoil has gone, and order has been restored. Those who deserved were punished accordingly. O people! Do not fear seeing the destruction. We will build again and proposer again. We will keep the sword and the pen together. Not only learning for our future but fighting for it too! With the demise of Sultan Zain Ul Abadeen, the Fatimid lineage ended. I call upon you to build a new dynasty. One that will outshine the world, with its tales of lovers and fighters alike. I shall name this dynasty, Aliyah.”

And perhaps this is what love is. It burns you, sure, but it transforms you into something better. So let love burn you, whether it makes sense or not. No matter what happens, keep loving. For the world is indeed filled with tragedies, but love is the most beautiful tragedy of them all.

This story, along with its several simpler and deeper moral dilemmas and motifs, remains very close to my heart. Several time I grieve the fact that I was not able to complete writing this in an actual novel. Summarising it was something I had considered several times but mostly decided against it as I fear the essence might not be conveyed very well. But lately I have put it upon myself to give without receiving. I have poured the ink down, now whether it blooms is not up to me. At times, now, I let away my unfinished, imperfect work. Something I would never do earlier. But maybe there is wisdom in completing a task as much as there is wisdom in not being able to complete the task. A friend once told me, that there is virtue in work and there is virtue in rest. Now, I am a man who has never let rest touch him. But is it too gloomy to say that now, I am getting old. And perhaps it is not in my best interest to carry the burden of the world on shoulder, much less my own. Lately, they all seem to work in coalition to break me anyways. I do not want to break. I do not have the privilege to do so, at least not before the task is done. Once my Aliyah is established, I shall rest. And so, maybe one way to do so is to share this burden somewhat equally. The turmoil is my turmoil to rebuild as much as it is yours. Therefore nowadays I let out every thought and emotion. In hope that’s maybe someone will continue from where I left.

But perhaps the tragedy of the novel “Aliyah” never reaching fruition was like that of the character Aliyah herself. The oblivious and nonchalant princess of the novel deserved peace and serenity and she enjoyed such therein the thick walls of the castle. It was in her best interest to remain inattentive to the turmoil beyond these walls, unless of course, catastrophe struck. And rightfully so, of what honour is it for a princess to involve herself with the matters of the barbarism of men. For what do the men of the castle, the state and the city equip themselves with if not the necessary to protect the princess? And perhaps so, there is no peace in vigilance, not one like that of which is in ignorance. The partiality of intentions executed is the testimony of the superiority of vis major. And hence there can exist no man who walked on the face of earth proclaiming that he lives on his terms without first claiming that he is a rebel to god, a heretic and hence a terribly deluded person in the process. It is indeed in the best of one’s interest to not strain their neck with the burden of knowledge. But ignorance is a sin too. To know what to know remains the art of greatest interest. For he who wishes to dedicate his life to righteousness, it is perhaps far easier. Know your task and fulfil your duty. What is there for you beyond these parameters but pain?

The princess who sought no further was blessed. And hence, Vis major, preserved her so. But what unveiled later around her was of great turmoil and chaos. It is not an account to proclaim that the best of us is those who remain ignorant. It is an account to narrate a motif. Do your duty and let others do theirs. Aliyah was preserved, not in a way that when calamity hit, she was not affected, but that in a way that when calamity hit, she was annihilated, and not preserved, or perhaps not left to suffer. This is for some the reward that vis major bestows because of following your duty. Compare it to the rest of the life of Taimur, was he at peace or was he burning every single moment? No doubt great works were accomplished through him. But maybe, just maybe, all a love wants, is their loved ones. 

What did Aliyah mean to me? And what should it mean to you? A symbol of selfless understanding and support? A tale of mythical and chivalrous love? A north star? A beacon of hope? An exemplification of companionship? Or perhaps a tale to remind the lover of the pain, suffering, and sorrow, that love brings with it? And that you might avoid it today, but tomorrow surely, anguish, and misery will catch up to you. Perhaps, it should it remain in the pages of history to remind men only this, that thy shall fight, no matter the yesterdays, no matter the today and no matter the years to come. For you may loose and die but never shall you whimper and whine. That there is no other distraction for you but the task. And perhaps hope that you will be blessed and cursed equally. With enough pain to make love meaningful, and enough love to outlive pain.

Was famous in the east and was adored by the west.
An extraordinary princess she was, amongst the best,

In elegant gowns, she was magnificently dressed,
An Aphrodite on earth, whoever saw her, guessed.

With one glance any heart she desired, she could wrest,
Sacrificed themselves the lovers, with full zeal and zest,

She spoke as if birds and angels alike she addressed,
Would collapse around her the world, such love she expressed,

Was her beauty enough for the earth to digest?
“enough for the universe,” said the angels, “we attest”

Every prince who saw her found themselves impressed,
Any she walked near to, with awe would their chest be compressed,

But was there any, who would ask her to walk abreast?
As approached, none, in fear that of love she would divest,

The prince of a foreign land then one day, to her, confessed,
But soon came hardship, and thoroughly, was he assessed,

Alas where they destined to separate, on the king’s behest,
A free bird was Aliyah, perhaps, in this world, she had no nest.

Salman Tahir, On the Unfinished Novel, “Aliyah” from “The Diary of a Philosopher”