As the chant intensified, the words began to blur for Selim. It wasn't just "God, He is God" anymore. The rhythm— Allah Hu, Allah Hu —began to match the thumping in his own chest.
The sun was sinking behind the jagged peaks of the Taurus Mountains when Selim reached the gates of the ancient lodge. He was a man of books and logic, a scholar who had spent years trying to find God in the ink of old manuscripts. Yet, his heart felt like a dry well. Д°lahi Allah Hu Allah
Inside the courtyard, a circle of dervishes moved in a slow, rhythmic sway. There was no music at first—only the sound of breathing. Hu. Hu. Hu. As the chant intensified, the words began to blur for Selim
He realized that the scholar in him was trying to capture God, while the song was asking him to surrender to Him. Every "Hu" was a broom, sweeping away his pride, his titles, and his worries. The sun was sinking behind the jagged peaks
