‘It isn’t enticing enough if it isn’t forbidden.’ Humanity has sworn by this dictum since eons. Aren’t we here as a testimony to the first sin ever committed by Man? How can Sin be sacred? How can anything related to life remotely be connected to sanctity and yet we swear by Sanctity as well. For years, the conflict is manifest and for years, unresolved. Somewhere between the promise of resurrection and eternal damnation, we exist as a race tugged towards both good and bad by a thin thread of belief. Satan in one minute and angel in another, we defy all logic when it comes to tasting the forbidden fruit. What is so tantalizing about it is the same thing that makes it unforgiving, its soul! And in the end it hurts, it leads to bloodshed, it kills and it destroys. It leaves us vulnerable to damage and then the perdition never ends. ‘The Mahzur,’ reminds you of a simple fact, If it is forbidden, It will Bleed.. The Al Nafud is not just another desert. It is an amalgamation of poetry and music in the right proportions but it has a heart of stone under that soft burnished gold skin. The sand dunes sing to your call as if a dozen tubas are blown in unison but it isn’t a song for the faint of heart. It is unforgiving. Sarah, the lovely daughter of the Al Janubis is engaged to be married to another man but this doesn’t deter Ahmed from falling for a woman whose clan he has abhorred all his life. And when kismet trudges them towards an unlikely path through its bosom, does the Nafud forgive them for this mistake or does it unleash a fury unheard of in Janub as Sehra, their native land? I bring to you a love story from the wildest and the most beautiful desert of the Middle East. It is a story of love and loss for where there is great love, the loss, invariably is greater.