R.B.R Barreto
The heart doesn't always open at the first moment.
Aisha was not Muslim. She descended from the gypsy tribes of the desert and followed the religion of the ancients. She wandered amid the hustle and bustle of the tribe, carrying out her duties and keeping a respectable distance from her masters. She was purchased from a group of gypsies, slave traders, when she was approximately 8 years old and, since then, she had served in the sheikhs' camp. She went through adolescence and was now a beautiful young girl with very dark skin, black, curly hair that fell to her hips. As she was poorly dressed and covered her face in obedience to local custom, her beauty had until then been protected from the eyes of the tribesmen. Aisha did not receive any teachings other than those that life itself had given her. She couldn't read or write, but she was very intelligent and clever. She learned everything very quickly. She knew how to weave, embroider, paint, cook, ride a horse, dance and sing, although all these gifts, cultivated intuitively, were not seen by anyone. However, the greatest of all the gifts that life had taught him was that of always being invisible. She knew how to go unnoticed and no one noticed her. So the young gypsy infiltrated the life of the tribe and among its lords, learning a little about everything. She has been enchanted by Kadir since she was a girl and he was a young teenager, confused between the obligation to follow in his father's footsteps and the desires of his heart. Her young master was no kinder to her than to all others, but he had captivated her with his sweetness and beauty. Once she had fallen while carrying water and seriously skinned her knee. The chief's little son ran to help her. He looked her in the eyes, with such kindness and sweetness that he captivated her heart forever. In the years that followed, the boy never paid as much attention to her as he did on this day, but Aisha, in her daydreams, made him unique. She followed him like a furtive shadow, following his every step. In her mind and heart, she installed him as part of her life, as the "soulmate" that every destination traveler seeks.
As time went by, she got to know him better than she knew herself. She watched his escapes into the desert, followed his gaze, followed and often even listened to the conversations he had with Balam, while he was in the tribe. With strong and well-trained intuition, the young woman realized that Kadir's soul was restless and fugitive. There was something that mobilized him and that had nothing to do with the life that awaited him in his tribe. The truth is that, although the boy didn't even realize it, Aisha's soul was immersed in hers and their destinies were linked in some way that she didn't know.
That was how the young gypsy became one of only two people who recognized the decisive signs in the boy's physiognomy and manner. The girl noticed his anxiety and sensed the anguish that was in his soul, especially after Balam's departure. Endowed with great sensitivity, he immediately guessed her intention. She didn't know where, but she sensed that the prince had decided to leave at any moment and that nothing or no one would stop him. She decided then, that wherever she went, she would go with her. Aisha had heard many of her conversations with Balam. Surreptitiously, she always found something to do in the vicinity where the two were and managed to listen to the conversations and teachings that the old dervish gave to his disciple. She knew of the boy's intention to become a saint. She was certain that this journey towards holiness was taking shape in the boy's soul. She also knew that he would not willingly accept someone leaving with him, let alone a woman and a slave at that. The young woman did not want to hinder him, just follow him and help him reach his destination, whatever it was. She then had the idea of disguising herself as a boy and following him in secret. She would not be the first woman in the desert lands to dress as a man. Many Bedouin women, gypsies and other tribes disguised themselves in this way as protection or to achieve some purpose that they would not be able to achieve as women. It was a risky adventure that most of the time ended in the execution of both the woman and those who covered her. But, she was willing to take the risk because she had nothing to lose.
As she was very young and had no one, Aisha went to ask for guidance from an old seer, also a gypsy, who lived among them and who practiced the ancient art of reading coffee grounds. The woman received her in a shabby, dark tent, smoking a strong-smelling pipe that left her numb. Looking at her only briefly, the old gypsy made her sit down and, without many questions, immediately put the coffee water on to boil. The cup in which the drink was served was yellowish at the bottom, probably dyed by so many coffee grounds that it had stored over many years. Aisha wondered if there was no way the signs of her destiny could be confused with those of all those who had already sought out the old seer. If everything in the world leaves its marks, that cup would already have many stories to tell. With these thoughts she followed the woman's movement, adding the coffee powder and then the boiling water. She saw her, half in a trance, lift the steaming cup and move it in circles, muttering something that sounded like a prayer or invocation. Seconds later she placed the cup in front of Aisha, indicating that she could drink. The young woman removed the veil that covered her face, took the container with both hands and blew on the liquid, causing the smoke to rise to her face, leaving her a little blind.
– Take it slowly – said the woman – let the powder settle, don't be in a hurry.
Aisha was in a hurry, but she knew how to control her anxiety. She took sip by sip, feeling the coffee powder hit her lips. Time and again she looked at the liquid attentively as if she wanted to decipher for herself the mysteries of her future. When she finished she placed the cup on the rug in front of the woman that then took it and carefully examined the signs left on its edges.
– In a few days you leave towards your destiny, although you are confused between your destiny and someone else's. I see a long walk ahead of you and few days of rest... - the woman paused and closed her eyes, leaning her body a little forward, then continued - Yes... yes... a long walk of which no there a return. Her heart cries because another heart seems to be made of stone. But the thorn of love has unthinkable directions. I see two dark eyes that observe her soul and know your heart. I see a dark cave, fear and loneliness for long days. Her feet are sore and her hands bleed...
At this point Aisha was startled and interrupted the woman.
– No, I don't want to go so far in the future. Please... just tell me about what will happen now, in the present... Will I achieve my intention?
The woman now looked more intensely at the young woman's face and, shrugging her shoulders, inhaled the pipe again, releasing huge spirals of smoke:
– I don't need to see that in the coffee grounds. It's clear as the light in your eyes. You've already made up your mind, what else do I have to say? You are moved by a powerful force, which makes her believe she has found her destiny. You won't have peace if you don't follow your impulse. Nothing I say, no matter how threatening the future is, will change your mind. Therefore, yes, your intention will be fulfilled. I say you will leave soon. In three days will wear the skin of a man and suffocate feelings, fear and tears.
– But, listen… – she continued before the young woman left – the heart doesn't always open right away. The call that animates your heart may have echoed from a time beyond the memory. You can find him in the past or in the future.
The young woman stopped for a moment and frowned at the riddle the priestess was throwing at her. She didn't understand and didn't have time to think much. As was customary, she repaid the woman with a woolen blanket that she had woven, thanked her and left. She had guessed her intentions, but, actually, she hadn't added anything beyond what the young woman already knew. Everything else remained a mystery. Aisha was alone in her decisions, but her choice was already made. She had nothing to leave, very little to take and no one to miss.
So, right away, she began to prepare stealthily. She arranged men's clothes and cloaks, light in color so that they could be confused with the desert sands. She prepared some bundles with the rest of her things including some foods like dried fruits, roasted grains, honey and bread. And began taking an infusion of herbs that would suspend his rules for days or months while he was in the desert. She also took care to store them to take with her.
In the days that followed, more or less at dusk when everyone was collecting the animals, the young woman began to mingle among the men wearing sand-colored clothes and took the reins of one of the horses that served as a mount for the sheikh's troops. . It was a bay horse, of no great importance, but even so, there was little care, stealing a horse or camel in the desert was a very serious crime. Aisha had ridden him a few times before, so she knew him reasonably well.
– Come Taiff...
It was a common habit among the men of the tribe to take the horses out for a ride in the evening. Some liked to give thanks to Allah in the middle of the desert, when the sun went down. At these moments, the young woman took the opportunity to go to the nearest oasis, known as "Little Oasis", where she dug a not very deep pit in the ground. Deposited there, day by day, the things she could anticipate for the trip. When night fell, she was back to her duties, making sure that no one noticed her. For the rest of that night, she served the men gathered around the fire, telling jokes and adventures. Aisha followed Kadir's eyes. She had to be sure of the direction in which him would go, because, according to her plans, she would leave ahead of him. She would like to meet him on the way, as if it were by chance.
The young woman had learned to read Kadir's eyes and follow the impulse of his soul. So, on this day, amidst the noise of men, he suddenly noticed his daydream and the direction his gaze was following, leaving a message that seemed quite clear to him: his destination was the East, the east, where the sun rose, every morning. That's where he looked furtively, thinking he wouldn't be noticed. It was the sacred east cultivated in the soul of every Muslim. It was there that Kadir's eyes always turned and where his dreams were lost, beyond the horizon.
In fact, Ramadan was approaching and, with it, the time for the meeting of the great leaders. The Sheikh excitedly described the subjects he would bring to the meeting and the role he expected from each son. The wrinkle on Kadir's forehead betrayed his deep disgust at still being part of this plan. His father insisted on taking him even though he made it clear that the leading role in the meeting would be given to the second son. That didn't matter to him. He had already decided that he would not go with them. While the Sheikh and his men would head North, entering the wild desert in search of the neutral strip where the council woul meet, he, Kadir, would head East, seeking the answers his soul longed for. He did not toast the men and remained silent. Little did he realize that the young gypsy woman serving the drink was one of the only ones who had discovered his intention. Then the destiny was written. It was time to leave.
After her tasks, when no one else would notice she was missing, Aisha retired to her tent and, instead of going to sleep, she borrowed scissors from old Amira's basket and cut the beautiful black hair that so adorned her face. She then became, without knowing for how long, the fragile little boy who every afternoon rode the bay Taiff to the Little Oasis. She looked at herself in the mirror. Didn't look anything like the beautiful gypsy whoman who, when alone, allowed herself to dance and sing. She really looked like a frail boy, still beardless. She was satisfied with what she saw, but she lacked a name. She closed her eyes, trying hard to find a name she could give herself that wouldn't sound so strange. In seconds, without knowing how, her memory returned to her childhood in a time before she was sold to the sheikhs. She reviewed the festivals and ceremonial gatherings of her ancient tribe. Beyond the flickering flames of the bonfire that animated the dance from somewhere in the past, a face appeared and a name echoed – Randú.
– Randú? – repeated the young woman, coming to her senses with a kind of start – The name had sounded so familiar to her. She made a futile effort to remember. It was possibly the name of someone she had known as a child, a relative or acquaintance. She shrugged. Nothing else mattered about his past. Not even the future was important. She only had eyes for the present, for what she had decided to do. Randú was a good name. From that moment on, the little gypsy Aisha disappeared, giving way to young Randú who left that same night, when everyone was sleeping. She picked up a few remaining things, placed them under the burnoose, and crept to the place where she had left Taiff. She rode in silence to the Little Oasis. There she rested as much as she could before the sun rose. She wanted to leave while it was still dark, as the oasis was very close to the camp. She watered the horse, fed it, filled three canteens and placed all the rest of the things she had hidden on the animal's back. Once everything was ready, she took a deep breath and galloped east. She wanted to stay a couple of days ahead of Kadir.