It is a story of times long gone by. It is a story from ancient Egypt - long before the time of the Pharaohs, when people still worshipped the old gods. The new gods and religions emerged long after. It is a strange story - a story of souls meeting, drifting apart, and then coming together again, across the thresholds of time and space.

Once upon a time, a Princess and a Jeweler lived in a city beside the quietly flowing River Nile. The city was already ancient by the time the Princess was born, was magnificent, and had already seen and suffered at the hands of a thousand armies camped outside its sky-high walls.

The city had grand old libraries, filled with millions of old books of wisdom and prophecies, where one could see old scholars and philosophers, bent over words from an ancient past. There were also miles-long bazaars, lined with spice and gem shops, where one could find anything, from Damascus silks to shrunken heads from the jungles of the Amazon.

The city had majestic temples of gold, adorned with kind and ferocious faces of the old gods, where one could see withered old priests singing hymns and swinging their pots of burning incense. And there were taverns and houses of ill repute, teeming with prostitutes and opium dealers, where one could sell both soul and piety, and where one could even buy oblivion and happiness. The city hustled and bustled, growing older, burdened by the desires of its inhabitants, while the Nile flowed by, unconcerned and ignorant of the city’s charms and horrors.

The Princess lived in a palace of gold, guarded by grand towers and mighty slaves with bodies carved out of black mahogany. She was young, about twenty, and some years old and breathtakingly beautiful, tall and graceful. Then there were her most wonderful eyes. In fact, her eyes were the only features one could ever see. The rest was all hidden by a long flowing veil - woven from the finest of all silks. Only the mirror knew of her true physical beauty.

As told by all those who had been lucky enough to meet the Princess in person, she had the most marvellous eyes. Her eyes were marvellous because they remained alight with a hidden brilliance and high intellect. She had the power of curiosity and the determination and resolve to execute whatever she chose to conceive. Like all other people of the city, the Princess believed in the old gods and also in the divinity of all Holy Scriptures as ordained by the priests. But her beliefs did not prevent her from patronizing the sciences and arts. She built new libraries and stocked them with leather-bound volumes and papyrus scrolls from all over the world. She established universities and academies and recruited teachers. She was admired and respected by all and awed and feared by a few. But overall, she was popular and ruled the city well.

The Jeweler, on the other hand, was not so popular at all. In fact, only a very few people knew of his existence. He had a small shop located in one corner of the oldest bazaar of the city. Despite its small size, the shop not only boasted of the finest of all jewels but was also filled with all sorts of curiosities. Anybody entering it could see the Jeweler,  an old man, sitting in a corner, smoking and reading a book.

He was always surrounded by books - old and dusty volumes, filled with ancient and exotic secrets; and also gadgets of brass and silver - gadgets too obscure to make any sense of. His clay pipe blew clouds of aromatic tobacco, while golden tea boiled on a small stove. The fragrances of tea and tobacco made love in the air, while he read and kept on reading, occasionally looking up and smiling benignly at the wandering passers-by.

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It is said that the greatest moments of history often belong to the most ordinary of all circumstances. The Princess and the Jeweler had never met each other, but one day their paths crossed.

The Princess was looking for a rare ruby from the great mountains in the East. She called the captains of all the caravans passing through the city. She met all the travelers and vagabonds. She even sent expeditions to the four corners of the world and announced rewards for anyone who could bring her the said ruby. But she still couldn’t find it.

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‘Your majesty?’

‘Yes?’ The Princess, who stood on the balcony watching the city below, turned her delicate neck. A young slave-girl stood in the doorway, submissively tracing the patterns in the marbled floor.

‘Your majesty! People say that there is a jeweler in the Grand Bazaar. He collects all sorts of curiosities.’ The girl offered hesitatingly.

‘So?’ The Princess looked at her questioningly.

‘He might have what you desire. Or he might know from where it can be procured.’ The girl humbly suggested.

‘Go tell Akhmed to ready my ride. I will go visit that Jeweler myself.’ The Princess excitedly rubbed her delicate hands encased within soft velvet gloves.

‘Your majesty! He is just an ordinary jeweler.’ The girl sounded shocked. ‘I’ll go bring him to the palace.’

‘Just do as told.’ The Princess commanded her sternly. Unbeknownst to the young slave, it was not the first time the Princess had heard of the Jeweler. She already knew of him, but in a different context. The old Jeweler was a writer too, and he once wrote a book on the life and times of an ordinary prostitute. The book had greatly fascinated the Princess. She always wanted to meet the writer but had forgotten all about him amidst her busy routine.

When the Princess’s procession entered the grand bazaar, it caused a commotion everywhere. She rarely visited the city, but once she did, nothing could escape her eagle eyes. With their great scimitars balanced on their shoulders, two rows of Habshah slaves followed her camel. Wherever she went, people bowed and scuttled to the sides. From behind her veil, the Princess looked amusingly at each face and every wall. Her smiling and proud eyes, beneath the sharp and darkly lined eyebrows, examined everything in great detail.

‘It is my City and I am its only custodian.’ She thought silently - happy at the prospect.

The Jeweler was sitting in his shop and quietly reading a book as usual, when his reverie was broken by loud cries.

‘Make way! Make way for the Princess!’

He looked out and saw people hurrying down the bazaar. He smiled at the excitement of ordinary people and then reopened the book, having no time for princes and princesses. His realm was of imagination, and he was its only king.

Suddenly, the commotion outside fell silent, and a fragrant shadow entered the shop. The Jeweler looked up at the vision lighting up the dark confines of his small shop. There stood a tall woman,  all clad in black silk with only her eyes visible.

He peered into her eyes and, for a brief moment, lost himself. The eyes shone with the light of hard, cold brilliance. They were two brown pools of crystal-clear amber, unfathomably deep. He stared into the depths of those eyes and was sure that anybody who dared peer into them would certainly drown without any hope of recovery.

‘Get up, you fool! Can’t you see you are in the presence of the Princess?’ The towering slave straightened his scimitar and growled.

The old Jeweler smiled back kindly at the slave and got up slowly.

‘Welcome, your majesty!’ He respectfully bowed to the Princess.

‘Are you the Jeweler who wrote that book?’ She smiled and asked him.

‘I have the humble honor of writing many books. Which is the one being referred to, by your exalted highness?’ The Jeweler inquired politely.

‘The one about the prostitute who became the favorite of the gods.’

‘All prostitutes are favorites of the gods.’ The Jeweler smiled a little. ‘But yes, I am afraid, I wrote that book. Did it offend your majesty’s refined senses and high standards of morality?’

‘No, it didn’t. It rather pleased me.’ The Princess smiled back.

‘I am grateful for your pleasure.’ The Jeweler bowed again. ‘How may I be of any service to your majesty?’

‘I am looking for a rare ruby.’ The Princess said, rubbing her gloved hands in anticipation. ‘It is said that when a virgin is sacrificed to the gods by the tribes living in the great mountains of the East, her blood turns into rubies.’

‘Ah!’ The Jeweler grunted with pleasure and opened a small safe in the wall, hidden behind a painting. ‘I believe I have what you desire, though I fear it is just a gift of nature. No blood of the virgins was involved in its making.’

The Jeweler took out a small and weather-beaten leather purse from the safe and carefully opened it. Within the purse, on a bed of black velvet, lay a single ruby of exquisite beauty. If people mistook it for the blood of virgins, they weren’t wrong. It was a thing of unparalleled brilliance. Its color was the purest red - each of its facets gleaming and pulsating, as if with a hidden desire. Against the black velvet, the ruby seemed to throb warmly, with a hidden life of its own.

‘Is this what your majesty was looking for?’ The Jeweler held up the ruby for the Princess’ scrutiny.

‘Yes!’ She whispered, sighing with pleasure as her beautiful, deep brown eyes glimmered with awe. ‘What do I owe you?’

‘If it pleases your majesty, I will accept your pleasure as the only payment.’ The Jeweler was smiling back at her.

The Princess looked up, expecting craftiness in the eyes of the old man. Instead, she found only profound warmth and perhaps affection. The affection seemed too familiar - like musk riding the shoulders of the evening breeze, across the dimensions of space and time.

‘Are you sure that my pleasure is all that you desire?’ She asked, and the old Jeweler just nodded in confirmation.

‘I consider myself held in your debt forever.’ The Princess acknowledged the graciousness of the old man and turned to go. Then she suddenly stopped and turned back.

‘Tell me, old man! Have we ever met before?’

‘I am afraid……not in this lifetime at least.’ The Jeweler raised his eyes. ‘But yes, we have met in another lifetime, too far away in the future.’

‘Do not mock my question.’ The Princess warned, and her fair brow furrowed in anger. ‘How can I remember something from the future? How can something that yet lies in the future have already happened?’

‘I dare not mock your majesty.’ The old man bowed his head humbly. ‘Time is but a river. Our souls drink from many places from this river, both simultaneously and consecutively. What happens in the future has already occurred in the past. And what happened in the past is yet to come along in the future. It is not your majesty’s eyes but your soul that recognizes me.’

‘Do not try to confuse me, old man, and do not invite my wrath.’ The Princess’s cheeks were flushed red. ‘I can be as terrible as I am kind.’

‘I do not doubt that.’ The old Jeweler seemed unaffected by the Princess’s stern and admonishing tone. ‘But perhaps your majesty is not familiar with the river of time and the way it flows.’ ‘Arrest this man, this very instant, and lock him up in the deepest dungeon.’ The Princess ordered her slaves. ‘Keep him locked up until he comes to his senses and tells me where I have met him before.’

On the Princess’ command, the slaves dragged the old man by his silver hair and locked him up. But he didn’t protest and kept on smiling. Each night, the Princess visited him in the dungeons and asked him the same question. And each night the old Jeweler repeated his answer, ‘Your majesty is not familiar with the river of time and the way it flows.’

Then one night, the old man’s resolve crossed the Princess’s threshold of young patience.

‘This is the final warning for you.’ The Princess carried a candle, and the light caught the flecks of gold dancing in her angry brown eyes. ‘You either tell me where we have met before or I will have you killed at the crack of dawn.’

‘Your majesty is not familiar with the river of time and the way it flows.’ The old Jeweler repeated his answer.

‘Aren’t you afraid to die, old man? There is no escape from these dungeons. The walls of this prison have muffled the anguished cries of a million souls. You will die here and your bones will rot.’

‘Escape?’ The old man chuckled. ‘Oh, I assure your majesty, if I wanted to escape, your dungeon could not keep me locked.’

With these words, the Jeweler got up from the floor. He approached the steel bars and gripped them with his gnarled hands. He closed his eyes and muttered something under his breath. Then he simply stepped forward and diffused through the bars. He smiled at the dumbfounded Princess and stepped back into the cell, diffusing across the steel bars again.

‘Who……who are you?’ The Princess almost dropped the candle in shock.

‘I am a shadow from your past and I am a memory from your future.’ The old Jeweler whispered. ‘Some souls are intertwined. They are bound to meet and then meet again across the thresholds of past, present, and future.’

‘If you can escape so easily, why didn’t you leave?’ The Princess asked, looking at the old man with barely hidden awe.

‘Oh! But I don’t want to leave.’ The old man smiled at her again in his familiarly affectionate way. ‘You are a creature of light, and I like you. I love the way your light flickers in the darkness of this world.’

‘Am I?’ The Princess asked dreamily. ‘Am I really a creature of light?’

‘Oh yes! You definitely are.’ The Jeweler nodded his silver head. ‘You are a butterfly dancing above the flowers, your wings sparkling with all the vibrant colors of the rainbow.’

‘Are you here to catch this butterfly?’ The Princess asked.

‘Not at all. If I catch the butterfly, the colors of the rainbow will just leave powdered residue of regret on my old fingers.’ The Jeweler softly whispered. ‘A butterfly looks good only while dancing in the air. She is the goddess of flowers and a creature of light.’

The Princess opened her mouth to ask another question. But then she just turned away and left, unsteady on her trembling legs. The old man smilingly watched her leave, but didn’t try to stop her. He knew she would return.

Needless to mention, the Princess didn’t kill the Jeweler the next morning. Instead, she returned the next night and brought along some spiced wine.

‘What is this creature of light you choose to call me?’ She asked him.

‘A soul can either be a creature of light or a creature of darkness.’ The old man explained while scratching his silver beard. ‘You are a creature of light because your soul is pure - yet unburdened by sins. The creatures of darkness, on the other hand, have their souls darkened by the ink of their sins.’

‘And what are you?’ The Princess asked, ‘Are you a creature of light too?’

‘Me? A creature of light?’ The old Jeweler gave a good throaty chuckle.

‘No! I am not a creature of light. In fact, I am too old to be categorized. I do not belong to either of the two realms. Instead, I tread willingly across the threshold separating light and darkness.’

‘Are you sure I am a creature of light?’ The Princess’s eyes gleamed with vanity.

‘Oh yes!’ The old Jeweler nodded his head and sipped some of the spice wine. He swirled the wine around in his mouth and smacked his tongue with pleasure.

‘You are a creature of light, my dear Princess. But remember, there is one force which, if mishandled, can change all that.’

‘What force?’ The Princess poured him some more wine.

‘The force of love!’ The old man sipped the wine again. ‘If you keep on falling in love with yourself and do not love others, wisdom will never grace your horizons and your light will finally be extinguished by darkness.’

‘Indeed, it is true that I love myself.’ The Princess nodded her head.

‘No. You do not love yourself. You are in love with yourself.’ The old Jeweler looked at her. ‘There is a difference. We love our parents and siblings. We can love so many people, but we fall in love with only one person.’

‘But I am in love with someone.’ The Princess protested. ‘I am in love with a Prince from the warring tribes of the North.’

‘How can you be in love with him when you are already in love with yourself?’ The old man asked with a smile. ‘And what about the others? Do you love other people too?’

‘I end all other relationships once they start becoming intimate. I end them to maintain the integrity of mutual respect.’ The Princess appeared flustered.

‘Oh yes! You are afraid of losing respect, of yourself, and of all those whom you may love or like. But do remember, Princess, by ending a relationship, respect may survive, but understanding will never come.’ The old man raised his hand.

‘Human beings are not disposable commodities. The presence and nearness of each soul in your life carries a specific meaning. Understanding comes through experiencing the heartbreak. It comes from seeing the other souls suffer; and it comes from handling, sharing, and relieving their pain - wisely and maturely.’

‘I do not understand what you are saying, old man. I prefer to live life on my own terms.’ The Princess got up, ‘Enjoy the spiced wine. A flask will be brought to you each evening until you decide to leave.’ ‘Understanding will come one day, but it will come with age, my dear Princess.’ The old man whispered back, but the Princess acted as if she didn’t listen to what he said and hurriedly climbed up the stairs of the dungeon.

Days changed into weeks, weeks expanded into months and months joined hands to become years. The old man willingly remained in the dungeons and the Princess never visited him again. Gradually the palace and its inhabitants forgot about him.

But with the passage of time, something changed deep inside the Princess. She was no longer in love with herself. Instead, she started loving and understanding others. She sat in the loving company of friends and drew warmth and assurance from their drunken laughter. She looked at orphans with love and learnt patience and kindness from their sad smiles. She fed the poor with only love in her heart and learnt fortitude and courage from their tired lives. And she accepted the intimacy of those who loved her and understood their suffering, anguish and pain. She grew old and stopped being in love with herself. Instead she just loved herself and all others around her.

One day the Princess looked into the mirror and saw a wise queen smiling back. She looked outside the balcony and saw that all was calm and peaceful in her realm.

‘Some spiced wine your majesty?’ A slave-girl’s voice broke her reverie.

‘Spiced wine?’ The Queen whispered to herself and then suddenly thought of the old Jeweler, locked away in the dark dungeons since long.

She ran and the slaves followed her. She ran without thinking of her position and protocol. She ran down the stairs and ordered the gates of dungeons to be thrown open. She reached the old man’s cell, but it was empty.

‘Where is he?’ She asked the Warden of the Dungeons, ‘When did he leave?’

‘Your majesty!’ The Warden bent his head, ‘He never left.’

‘Then where is he? Have you changed his cell?’

‘No your majesty.’ The Warden replied in a low voice, ‘There he lies, at peace forever.’ He pointed at a small collection of dusty bones in a corner.

The Queen entered the cell. She approached the bones of the old Jeweler and bent down. But when her fingers touched the bones, they disintegrated and dissolved into the night air with a whispering sigh: ‘I am a shadow from your past and I am a memory from your future. Some souls are intertwined. They are bound to meet and then meet again across the thresholds of past, present and future.’