At the end of the afternoon, when the shadows of our camels were ragged streaks on the sand below us, we came across a great cairn near the base of some dunes. My companion, Rafig, said the cairn marked the grave of Tajouj, a nomad woman known as The Fire Maiden – legendary for her beauty.
We agreed to spend the night nearby, and as we were making camp we saw a woman in a dark robe coming down the dunes. When she reached the cairn, she placed a pebble on it, lifted her hands, and recited some words. Then she came over to greet us. Though her face was partly veiled, it was clear that she was aged – her eyes were set in a map of wrinkles, and her hands and feet were calloused from years in the desert. Rafig introduced her as Maya, a wise woman or kahina, famous as a storyteller, who lived alone on top of the dunes.
‘She can tell you the tale of the Fire Maiden,’ he said. He invited her to sit down with us near the fire, and as he made tea, Maya explained that the word Tajouj referred to the crackling sound made when dry grass catches alight. ‘That was why they called her ‘the Fire Maiden’, she commented, ‘and even as a young girl, anyone who met her found their heart suddenly on fire.’
‘Her cousin, Muhallig, known as a brave but proud man, was violently in love with her. He asked for her hand in marriage, as was his right. On the day before the marriage was to be consummated, though, Muhallig’s friend, Jamjun invoked an ancient tribal custom: he asked to see Tajouj naked.
‘Muhallig refused, saying that this custom had not been in use for a long time. Jamjun persisted, though, and perhaps there was something in Muhallig that made him want his friend to admire his wife, and feel envious of him.
‘When Muhallig told Tajouj about the request, she was incensed, declaring that it was shameful. He went on insisting, though, and finally she accepted, but only on the condition that afterwards he would grant her anything she wished. Muhallig swore to do so, and Tajouj disrobed for Jamjun, who had hidden himself in a thorn tree. So overwhelmed was Jamjun by what he saw that he dropped out of the tree like one scorched by hot flames, and broke his neck.
‘Afterwards, Tajouj reminded Muhallig of his promise: she told him that what she wanted was a divorce. He was enraged, but he had sworn an oath and could not refuse. After she had returned to her family, he tried several times to remarry her, but in vain. Before long, she married a nomad from another clan.
No sooner was Tajouj wed, though, than a man from a third clan, arrived with a band of nomads and abducted her. There was fighting and several men were killed on both sides. Nor was Tajouj’s third marriage to last, for she was abducted yet again, with more bloodshed.
Finally, Tajouj could stand the madness no longer and decided to escape. She joined a desert caravan, disguising herself as a man. The caravan crossed the dunes, and just here it was attacked by a bandit clan. In the struggle, Tajouj’s real identity was exposed. The bandits were drawn to her like moths to a flame, and soon fell to fighting each other to possess her. In the end, the entire band lay dead at her feet. Believing that she would never be free, Tajouj picked up a knife and took her own life.
‘Only God knows who buried her body here and built the cairn over her. Now each passing traveler places a stone on the cairn, and I myself come down every day to add a pebble in remembrance.’
Maya paused, and her eyes in the firelight held a faraway look. ‘It was a tragedy,’ she said, ‘because Tajouj believed that her beauty was a curse. She did not yet know that beauty is simply the revelation of the Great Spirit – the experience of losing our sense of being apart, of feeling in harmony with the whole – al-Haqq, the Real. Some faces, people or places, have the power to awake this feeling more than others, perhaps, but beauty is not an object. The curse was the ignorance of those men who believed they could possess beauty, when it cannot be possessed.’ She sighed and looked into the fire. ‘Ah well, Tajouj lives on in the Great Spirit, for no-one ever really dies.’
As we watched Maya walk away later, it struck me that she moved with the lightness and grace of a much younger woman. ‘Who is Maya?’ I asked Rafig. ‘I mean, where did she come from?’
‘Nobody knows,’ he said. ‘It is said that she appeared here long ago, shortly after Tajouj ended her life. She went to live alone on the dunes, and though many visit her, no-one has ever seen her face. It is said that she swore an oath never to marry or have children.’
As if struck by the same thought, we both turned to look at the cairn that marked Tajouj’s grave. Was the Fire Maiden really dead, or had she simply changed form, I wondered? Only then did I remember that, in Arabic, the word Maya meant water.