R.B.R. BARRETO
Have they ever imagined the miracle of a spring gushing forth in the middle of the desert?
Kadir remained immersed in his sadness for a long time. His thoughts wandered between his youthful dreams of reaching Paradise and the current reality in which this same Paradise seemed increasingly distant. He began to wonder if the place they called Jannah was not just the feeling of being safe and happy, with those he loved? How he missed his grandfather, his father and even his nanny Amira. He missed his conversations with Balam and the days when he hoped to find answers beyond the horizon. Now he realized that the horizon was like mirages. We can see them in the distance, but we never reach them. He also missed his "friend Randú" who with his silent movements had filled his days with kindness and camaraderie. Things he was had not known how to appreciate.
Involved in these thoughts, he only noticed the approach of the Portuguese Júlio Meirinho when he touched his shoulder, giving him a slight fright.
— Hey, my young man, don't be scared! I came to see how you are. The brave Hamad told us what happened. We are very sorry. Such a horrible death! – he shook his head in pity and continued – But you can't stay like this all night, my friend. You'll end up getting sick.
Kadir didn't move away, but he didn't show any reaction either.
— Uh... did you find your Master Balam, after all? – he continued
The young man sighed briefly and shook his head negatively:
— Curious! – continued the Portuguese – we just passed him a few hours ago. He was going in the direction you came from. He was accompanied by a troupe of dervishes. They were dancing and singing.
Kadir looked at him again with a livelier look and an expression of interest.
— Is this serious? Did you see him? Hamad, come and listen to this.
The Tuareg appeared almost immediately.
— Did you hear what he said? That Balam might have passed us by?
— Yes, I heard...
— How could that be? How could he have passed us by and we hadn't seen him?
— You were under strong emotion, Little Sheikh. Who knows if that man who questioned you wasn't him?
— That crazy wanderer? – Kadir continued in a disappointed tone – Impossible! I would have recognized him. I've been looking for him all this time. How could he have passed me by without seeing him?
Kadir spoke and shook his head as if trying to convince himself.
— What you call madness could be a kind of trance or something. Who knows what holy men are capable of? The truth is that we saw him. At least our guide said so. And he went the way you came – insisted Meirinho
— If it were really him — Kadir murmured as if to himself — he would have recognized me. He would have said something. We lived together for some time. He would have recognized me.
He stammered sadly, his throat dry. Tears were almost welling up.
— Friend — the Portuguese intervened again — what you need now is a good bath in the waters of Paradise. Purifying body and soul... it will do us all good. Shall we go?
Later, the four men, guided by Hamad, entered a kind of tank located in a compartment that was even deeper underground in the ancient ruin. This tank served pilgrims, both Arabs and Jews, who believed they could purify themselves in these waters.
The waters of the tank, formed of natural rocks and sand, were warm and transparent. They were collected from a natural spring that bubbled up next to a system of gutters, ingeniously constructed to control the flow in and out. A curious and surprising work to be found there, in the middle of the desert, in the ruins of a temple that could be thousands of years old.
In the darkness of the cave, Kadir bathed in the blessed waters of Paradise, letting his tears, pain and frustrations mix with them. His heart was distraught over the loss of his companion, who he now knew was the young Aisha. It was true that he had felt great anger when he discovered that he had been deceived. He had the urge to expel her or sell her as a slave, but he would never have wished for such a cruel fate.
— I didn't want that! — he exclaimed loudly.
Hamad couldn't help but give her an angry look. In turn, he also felt a deep pang in his heart. He was torn between guilt and anger. Perhaps if he had revealed everything earlier, things could have been different. In his view, it was obvious that Kadir was guilty. His intolerance had condemned the young woman, leading her to the desperate act of fleeing to the desert. The tuareg knew that there was nothing more threatening than the loss of freedom. He felt revolted with the young man and had only not abandoned him because he had made a commitment to leave him safe. But his look and silence said more than he intended.
Sensing the somewhat adverse atmosphere and noticing that Kadir was increasingly trapped in his own thoughts, the Portuguese intervened and changed the course of the conversation:
— Ahhh, friends!! How wonderful!! Have you ever imagined the miracle of a spring gushing forth in the middle of the desert?
— That's true – agreed Vladmir Ladslav – I was thinking exactly that. I never imagined finding a spring like that around here. And dammed up for bathing. Who could have done that and why? This mosque was built or rebuilt on top of very old ruins. Probably some temple or palace from the time of Sheebah, or Belkss, Queen of Sheba. Isn't that true, Hamad?
— Yes – agreed Hamad as if waking up from a dream – That's true. There are many stories among the tribes of the region that this was the land of Makeda, whom you call Belkss. Although these sayings extend far beyond the Red Sea. The people on the other side also tell stories about the Queen of the Jhins who conquered Sulayman.
— So, — continued Meirinho, — could it be that these ruins are of a temple or palace where she and King Solomon met? They say that the Wise King of Israel spoke the language of birds. He must have known the Simorgh and flown on its wings over long distances to find his beloved. That would explain those frescoes in the main hall. Tomorrow, during the day, I will examine them more carefully.- He was referring to the remains of painting that had also caught the young Sheikh's attention as soon as he entered the mosque.
The Portuguese continued with his investigative monologue:
— Who knows, perhaps Solomon and his architects were responsible for building this tank? Who else would have the idea of bringing the waters of Paradise here to create a purification tank?
Kadir became a little agitated and began to show interest in the conversation. He shared the belief that the source of all water in the world was Paradise. The four rivers that started from Eden bathed the entire earth and it was also from there that the rains that fell from the sky came to feed them in times of drought and remind them of their origin.
— Well, young man,- continued Meirinho, noticing the young man's interest, - the waters of Paradise sometimes overflow. They create rivers, cross seas, make the green reach the desert, creating extensive springs, especially in the deep caves and tunnels that hide under the sand. Like this one here.
— In the region where the ancient country of Saba would probably be located, which extends from here to the other side of the Red Sea, in the lands of Ethiopia and from here to the legendary Mountain of Káf, to the east, there are many reports of tunnels and underground cities – Ladslav reinforced.
— This whole region is very mysterious. Surrounded by legends... – observed the Portuguese.
Hamad, after listening to them for a while, pondered:
— For us who live in the desert, these legends are our stories, our past. Makeda was queen, sovereign of a very rich country. She was half human and half Jhin. She ruled both worlds: above the sands and below them. The women of our tribes have Makeda's blood. That's why they are free, warriors and wise.
He was silent for a moment and continued:
— The young Aisha had Makeda's blood. She certainly had... – he spoke as if thinking out loud – only with such an inheritance would a woman do what she did – and looking firmly at Kadir he continued – I bet she will reach Paradise before any of us.
— Poor girl – lamented Ladslav – she was indeed brave. But what a terrible death she had. Swallowed by the sands?
— Don't count on it! – interrupted the Tuareg abruptly – We can't say she was "swallowed". We don't know what really happened. As you said, there are many mysteries around here...
— Is that possible? — Kadir asked, his voice a little choked. — Is it possible that Ran... Aisha is still alive? - There was a moment of silence. Hamad seemed unwilling to answer, so Júlio Meirinho stepped forward:
— Oh... it is possible! I don't doubt it. Did you see her sink? If you didn't, you can't be sure.
— Well,— Ladslav considered, — I don't know the local beliefs very well, but as a geographer I can say that this place is very irregular. Full of quicksand. And quicksand swallows everything that falls on it. That's a fact.
—And do you know where these sands move? Where they drag people?— Hamad replied. — Do you know how many caves, tunnels, rivers and even cities there are beneath them?
— We still don't have the instruments to verify these legends.— In any case... – he was going to say that the time a person could endure suffocating under the sand was much shorter and more painful than in water, for example, but he stopped talking, realizing how painful this subject was for his companions.
— In any case – continued the Portuguese – if she hasn't appeared by now we'll never know what happened to her.
— Only Allah knows – said Kadir – Allah, the merciful, be praised!
— Yes, let's leave it in God's hands – agreed Júlio Meirinho
— The supreme intelligence that designs all things always leaves a hint of free will in the thread of each one of our destiny. It may be that the young descendant of the Queen of Sheba found her thread among the sands and took a different path – philosophized Ladslav
— So be it! – said Meirinho
— Inch Allah! – finished Kadir
— Maktub! – Hamad said in a deep and calm voice. After all, he thought, whether it was destiny, free will or any other possibility, everything had already been written by the great pen of Allah.