A Visit

The museum itself is a piece of art, its bold geometric design gleaming beautiful beige tones under the Sun's penetrating rays. The soft crashing waves at its base displayed a mirror image of its pristine self. Flanking it on either side were aesthetically pleasing palm trees, stacked neatly in rows and separated by flowering violet plants, further complementing the building’s majestic feel.
This is the location in which various intrinsic and detailed artefacts relating to Islamic artwork are accumulated. Galleries filled with varied precious artwork from different periods are made available for public viewing; providing data, spreading knowledge and supplying entertainment for those who visit. A place so rich in culture and heritage, allowing the modern population to truly relive the past through the immense amount of conserved historical masterpieces.
I arrived at this creative sanctuary along with a group of enthusiastic youths, fervently waiting for our chance to finally be dismissed from the unpleasant bus ride. The obnoxious and claustrophobic journey was worsened by an overall stench of teenagers that reeked of body odour. We were impatient to free ourselves from this makeshift prison. Prior to our release, we were forced to find ways to entertain ourselves; listening to music and telling jokes. The door finally hissed open and there it was: the Museum of Islamic Art.
Greeted with bittersweet heat, blisteringly hot due to the summer Sun yet warmly tingling my skin, we set off on our brilliant adventure. The vibrant and immaculately trimmed grass were mercilessly trampled over by our group. Soon enough, the cold water sprinklers activated and neutralised our violence. Enveloping us was the distinguishable Qatar skyline, with buildings of peculiar appearances and hues of blue–only one with a highly trained eye can distinguish the difference between these buildings, seamlessly coming together and forming something much larger than itself. The view of the museum against this backdrop was simply breath-taking.
We traipsed along a seemingly endless pathway; somehow our eagerness had been unfathomably sapped by the Sun. Halfway through the pathway a stumped hill stood. Exerting our remaining energy, we ascended the hill. At the peak, I observed the sea below, scintillating like glass. Dissimilar boulders were cumulated near the edge of the hill and to my left, lay a vacant cafe with multi-coloured rattan chairs. Our bodies mindlessly collapsed onto the chairs out of exhaustion. Unfortunately, the rattan chairs were not as comfortable as we thought they were, and we immediately stood back up.
Continuing our journey, we grudgingly but steadily trudged along the path. At this point only food and water filled our thoughts and this motivated us once more and finally, we approached the Museum of Islamic Art. An elegant fountain, spouting water incessantly welcomed our crowd near the entrance. At last, we have reached our haven. The cold air ventilated our lungs, and in front of us stood a spectacular spiralling staircase. Our eyes instantly focused on the bistro, which sold overvalued sustenance which we purchased reluctantly.
We made our way to the cold metal refuge that were the bistro’s chairs and dining area and silently ate our food while the austere staff looked at us with eyes as sharp as hawks. Now bursting with energy, we sprinted across the delicate marble floor and into one of the museum’s cavernous sections. Inside, a range of equally spaced artefacts were meticulously presented. Above each of these artefacts were gleaming lights that reflected softly against the glass displays. The Islamic artefacts which originated from a variety of places ranged from tiles and metalwork to calligraphy and ceramics. Beside each of these pieces lay neatly printed information regarding the object.
My prolonged exploration led to the sensational discovery of a segregated exhibition which was not limited to Islamic craftsmanship. Five ancient sculptures crafted with Chinese clay represented faithful members of the lifeless Terracotta Army. They stood diligently, as if they had sentience along with the liability of serving their emperor. The collection of sculptures consisted of a stern general who commanded two fearless soldiers accompanied by a deft shooter and a reliable stallion. Such an uncompromising squad was once coloured flawlessly but was eventually left in a state of disrepair.
We were left in a soundless state, a serene suspense. Our silence was sustained during our extensive saunter towards the dreary bus. The soft hushes of our crowd remained steady. The moment our foots flattened against the forbidding floor of the vehicle, we hastily exchanged our individual feelings regarding the trip with each other. As the day came to a close, to my surprise, the predominant opinion was quite positive, as the majority of people in our group found the journey rather amusing and somewhat educational. Although I myself am not a lover of the arts, I now feel as though I have a soft spot for it−truly the museum was a fascinating space.

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