Morocco is the ‘Land of Contrasts’, they say
On hearing the call for adhan, like others, I too take-off
my shoes to step into the mosque,
With the sun turning dark red and the night slowly crawling out,
Let me show it to you my way:-
It has the vibrant red Sahara to the East with its sand
dunes and ergs,
And to the West, is the Great Atlantic where many ships have
submerged.
Turquoise Strait of Gibraltar to the North
Separates it with Spain’s Tarifa port
And to the South, Toubkal - Atlas’ highest peak
Which many are trying to conquer as we speak!
Despite of these variations, this place makes me feel at
home
May be because it’s like the country where I have grown.
The inhabitants being Arabs, Berbers, Africans and Europeans
All of whom are ruled by the King
Casablanca, Rabat and Fes are it's most important cities
But Marrakech, a place very close to my heart
Is the one about which I would like to, today, sing
Marrakech, the Land of Gods, with city walls all in pink
Reminds of the glory of the bygone era and surely makes you
think.
Standing near Koutoubia Mosque, the inspiration behind
Giralda tower in Seville, Spain
The guide explains us about the once misaligned mihrab, the
pink stone minarets walls
The floral motifs and the folklore, all cut short by the
muezzin’s afternoon calls.
Koutoubia Mosque |
To be told non-Muslims not allowed by law, even when there
is only one God.
This statement certainly makes some noises in my head
But not to question the State law, I slowly drift away and start
walking ahead.
After walking for a little while I reached a crossroad
crowded with vehicles,
To one side, drove a young couple in high speed in their
black Mercedes new
And to the other, an old pair leisurely in their royal horse
carriage drew.
While both paused for the traffic light,
I crossed the street followed
by the parking lot of horse drawn carriage fleet
Jamaa-el-Fna, Marrakech’s soul is the square where now I
reach.
Jamaa-el-Fna, the heart of Marrakesh |
With orange juice stalls, snake charmers, magicians,
Water sellers in traditional red costumes with brass cups
and leather water-bags
Charging anything between five to ten dirham for their single
photograph
Large green garden umbrellas dotted the square
Below which sat men wearing djellaba selling everything from
fresh fruits to clothes to plates
While beautiful women in colorful kaftans and belghas, waited
with henna cones to decorate.
Beside them sat an
old palm reader, with his hair as white as snow
Holding loosely Misbaha (string of prayer beads), in his
wrinkled hands
And waiting eagerly to reveal the fate of your entire clan
He tells me, “You are one of those lucky few, who follow the
heart,
And I can assure that you’ll fall in love with this place
before you part”.
In order to get a
panoramic view of this majestic square, I climb up the stairs
Pulled out a corner chair at Café de France, overlooking
this giant fair
And quietly listened the concoction of Chaabi and Gnawa
music
And felt the happiness that filled the air.
Deep down inside I wished, if somebody could translate and
explain me the verse
But then they
say, music is the universal language of love that touches the soul and need no
words.
The more I looked at this place, the more mesmerized I
became.
While I was still lost in my thoughts,
A man in his thirties walked up to me and exclaimed, “You
seem to be new,
Why don’t you come and join us for a bowl of stew”.
They narrated folklores of both hills and plains
About which I’ll surely write sometime later, cause there is
too much to explain.
With the sun turning dark red and the night slowly crawling out,
The square became even more crowded, noisier and merrier now
With the food stall owners calling out
“Come try and taste our famous beef, mutton, rabit and
chicken breast
If you don’t like them at all, we’ll serve you some fresh
camel’s chest”.
My newly found friends treated me with Couscous, Pastilla
and Tajine
Each of which had some seven different kind of meats.
Here in a country that’s thousands of miles away from home
Their warmth and hospitality, makes me feel that I am a part
of their own.
Once strangers, now friends
Warn me not to walk in this crowded square alone
“Coz in the shadows, you don’t know who’s your own.
In these hours of darkness you’ll lose your way
And in the end blame us that we didn’t say”.
“Fine, I’ll do as you say”
Only condition being,
“you all will, with me, some more time stay”.
I wandered there throughout the night with my recently found
friends
Admiring the magnificence of hundreds of beautifully lit
stalls,
Enjoying the musician’s tunes and the seller’s calls
And even this rainbow of chaos,
Managed to touch my heart’s right cords.
And with the muezzins final call of the day sounding across
all Marrakech in unison
The noisy square for the first time became composed,
And with a heavy heart, we too called it a day.
Though I part today,
Memories of
Marrakech, the soul of Morocco, would in my heart always stay.
And finally, the swarm started leaving the hive
With a promise to assemble again tomorrow, with some more
nectar for the soul!
Cafe de France, is one of the finest cafe located on the main sqaure of Jemaa-el-Fna
|
Dozens of fresh orange juice stalls dotted the square throughout the day |
Food stalls are set up only at night when there is less heat, to prevent the food from getting spoilt |
Choose your meat |
Tourist throng food stalls to get a bite of Moroccan delicacies All images and writing in this document © Pooja Kumar. email: poojakumar06@gmail.com tag:<Morocco> <Marrakech> <Fez> |