R.B.R. BARRETO
I believe that Paradise is a place far beyond the horizon... far beyond the horizon of any of us.
They continued their journey for another day until they reached the tribe of another Bedouin clan, at the end of the Rub al Khali, in the direction of Mecca. There they found the Caravan that had been led by Hamad and that had stopped to restock not only on provisions but also to try to find new guides to continue their journey. The two foreigners in charge of the caravan recognized the Tuareg and came to help him accommodate the new group that accompanied him, especially Kadir, who was still on the improvised stretcher. Everyone in the desert learns that they must help each other. Even the chiefs of the most warlike and suspicious tribes do not deny shelter to caravans or pilgrims passing through. Thus, Hamad and his new friends were well received and accommodated in that tribe, being able to rest, share the supper, the songs, the dances and the joy so common among the people of the sand. Everything was a reason to celebrate. Because of the arrival of the new guests, and even more so knowing that he was a young prince, the chief of the tribe ordered that everyone be very well accommodated and that a beautiful meal be prepared for the evening, with dancing and other festivities.
Night came. It was time for everyone to gather to rest, eat, tell stories and listen to music. The tribe's dancers prepared an interesting dance number at the chief's request to welcome the young prince Kadir. To the sound of drums and other percussion instruments, the beautiful young women, covered in veils and ornaments, surrounded the young guest playing the snujs, metal cymbals that be held between their thumbs and fingers. They formed an exuberant cadence that lifted the tribe's spirits. Kadir appreciated the dancers girls's movements, smiling awkwardly and clapping his hands.
Always aloof, wrapped in her masculine disguise, Aisha watched everything from afar and let herself be carried away by the music, feeling her blood vibrate to that rhythm. Her soul danced in silence. And what if she was the one dancing for Kadir? How would he act? Unintentionally, she looked for the imposing figure of Hamad, who stood a little away. The Tuareg's eyes seemed to hover over her, like the dark night hovers over the dunes. Uncomfortably, she closed her eyes and pretended to sleep. The temperature was pleasant and the sound of the music carried her away. A whisper mixed with the wind and the sound of the instruments brought back voices from a distant past. "Cailin, Cailin...!! Dance, Cailin, dance."
Later, they served some drinks, bread and lamb meat roasted on the grill. Hamad, the foreigners and Kadir sat around the fire. That's how Aisha learned that foreigners, a Portuguese and a Russian, had been in the desert for some time. They were researchers, the Portuguese was a historian and the Russian was a geographer. They were unable to say exactly what they were doing there, in that corner of the desert. They said that they had lost their way, but that their intention was to reach Petra and Jerusalem, and then retrace the Silk Road, following the Gobi Desert to the Himalayas.
Their story was quite curious. They were both working for a European magazine and combined the professional interests for which they were there with their personal interests. The Portuguese was a Catholic of Jewish origin, coming from a family of New Christians, since the 16th century. Júlio Meirinho, as he was called, was almost 50 years old, was a scholar, versed in languages and also a writer.
Vladmir Ladslav, the Russian, was a little younger than his companion and a free thinker. His work for the magazine consisted of photographing, drawing and mapping the region. He had been orphaned very early, lived for a time in India, entered academic life and went to live in France. The two spoke Arabic, French and English, as well as the dialects of the local tribes. This way were able to communicate satisfactorily. They avoided talking about how, despite having maps and other instruments, they had still completely lost their way. They said it was a curious story and that they themselves were still trying to understand it.
When they learned of Kadir's interest in the legends about Paradise and the Mountain of Káf, they were very curious. In a way, they had common interests. Each, in his own way, sought mysteries and traces of forgotten legends and relics of the past.
— Very interesting, - commented the Portuguese man, - whether Christian, Jewish or Islamic, the legends about Paradise always converge on the desert.
– And also in Buddhism – the Russian added – there is a Buddhist legend about a Holy City, sacred, hidden somewhere in the Gobi Desert. The monks call it Shamballa and the legends about it, its inhabitants and the curious beings who keep these mysteries are very old.
Neither Kadir nor Hamad had heard of anything like it. Imagining a world beyond the desert was too great a challenge for their nomadic souls.
– I didn't know there were so many paradises like this! – Kadir observed
– It could be that it is the same Paradise, with many entrances and many names... – argued the Portuguese.
– That is likely – agreed Ladslav – the monks say that the "lights" of Shamballa are always on and that there is always a way to get there, from anywhere. But no one has ever found one of these paths, although there are many legends about it
– But if they have never found a path, how do they know so much about it?
– Ahh.. – added Meirinho – mysteries, my young prince. Mysteries!!
– Mysteries do not bring answers. The Paradise that Allah has designated for his faithful is as it is written in the Koran and in the sacred legends... On the mountain of Káf. – said Kadir, for whom the idea of a Paradise that united all beliefs was a great absurdity, if not a heresy.
– Not everything is written – commented the Russian.
– But there are always signs – insisted the young man
– In fact, – confirmed Júlio Meirinho – In the Torah, the sacred book of the Jewish people, and in the Bible, its version for Christianity, there are many references to the Sacred Mountains. The tribes sought them to make sacrifices, seek protection and receive blessings. "Esah Einai el heharim, mayayin yavo ezri" – I lift my eyes to the mountains, from where will my help come? This is what is written in Psalm 121.
Hamad was listen to the conversation with some interest and an air of incredulity.
– For me, Paradise is like a place that is nowhere. It is like a mirage.
The Russian geographer, taking a deep puff on the pipe he had just lit, further stirred everyone's imagination.
– Well, I have already found many references to this place they call Shamballa. They say it is in the center of the world, in lands where no one lives, guarded by gigantic creatures and immersed in the depths of the earth. There lives a race that never dies. It is older than the world and will remain alive when everything else is gone.
Kadir listened to these strange stories without really understanding them. Each person who was there was looking for a different Paradise. According to their own dreams or beliefs. What would Balam think about it? He remembered that while he had been in contact with him, the pilgrim had never spoken to him about Paradise. He had never said a word or told a single legend. Instinctively, he looked for Randú.
As always, the boy remained aloof, in the shadows, far from everyone.
— Randú? - he called loudly.
The boy turned his head towards him, still silent and without moving.
— Has Balam ever spoken to you about Paradise?
Randú coughed, somewhat disoriented, buried his eyes on the ground and stammered in response:
— About paradise? ... to me? No sir... Master Balam spoke to me very little.
— Interesting… - said Júlio Meirinho, standing up and approaching Randú
— Very interesting, my boy... but what about you? What do you think about Paradise?
Everyone's eyes turned towards the young man who caught off guard, hid a little further in the shadows. In the gypsy's heart, the vision of paradise was very simple; in fact, it was right there, next to Kadir. But she couldn't say that and everyone was waiting for an answer. So, without moving from where he was and with his eyes still fixed on the ground, the "pilgrim" Randú had no time to invent words. He had only known Balam from afar and what he remembered of him was what he had heard him say to the little sheikh during their meetings. Gathering some memories, he took a chance.
— I believe that Paradise be a place far beyond the horizon... far beyond the horizon of any of us. Who knows, it could be right here one day and disappear like smoke the next?
There was a few seconds of silence. The content of the answer had everyone thinking. Kadir thought that those words would certainly please Balam and felt a little jealous of the sagacity with which his young companion had faced the foreigner's question.
—Wise words, - added Júlio Meirinho, seemingly satisfied. - Paradise, wherever it may be, will always be a safe distance from our eyes.
He returned to his seat and continued:
– Personally, I try to understand, but I confess that I still don't have the slightest idea about Paradise.
The Russian, taking another drag from his pipe, laughed mockingly at his friend:
– Never mind – it will take many more lives until us understand all this.
Kadir looked more and more confused in his conversation with the foreigners. Nothing they said made sense. He shook his head and spoke in the fervor of his convictions:
– What do you mean by "many lives"? Where did you get that from? – "another blasphemy!" – he thought...
Surprised and not wanting to argue about it, the Russian shrugged his shoulders and replied quietly:
– A manner of speaking, that's all.
– Well, I don't think that way – continued Kadir – the sacred scriptures are the testimony of the Prophet. Both they, as well as the suspended poems and the stories told by holy men, all speak of Paradise as a place that is right here, very close. And all that separates us from it is the lack of faith and the absence of holiness. It is on the edge of the world, near the Mount of Kaf.
"It is good that you think so, my young friend," said Júlio Meirinho. Jews and Christians also share the belief in Paradise. But, personally, I am not too sure."
When she went to bed that night, Aisha found herself thinking about Paradise for the first time. What was this place that everyone was looking for? Could it be that only men could fit in it? Would a slave like her, a desert wanderer, fugitive and in disguise, have a chance of understanding this mystery?
The camp had quieted down. Now only the noise of hyenas and other nocturnal animals could be heard in the distance. However, there was a music in the silence that only she could hear. It did not care where it came from. She let herself be lulled by it until she fell asleep.