R.B.R. Barreto
There was a sense of loss in her soul that translated into a bitter taste in her mouth and a tightness in her heart. But she knew that this too would pass, as so many other things did.
The stay in Medina was quick and fruitful. In his own handwriting and in the presence of Hamad, Sheikh Sayad and the foreigners, Kadir wrote the document that freed Aisha and gave her full freedom of choice. With this document she could come and go and decide her own destiny. He then did the same with the other captives, giving them the freedom to follow their own lives.
Later, before heading out of the city, they said goodbye to Ladslav and Meirinho.
— Good luck, my friends, may Allah be with you!— said Kadir.
—To you too, young prince!! May God bless your paths, whether towards Paradise or any other direction you decide to follow.— said Meirinho.
— Here, prince,— said Ladslav, handing Kadir some rolled-up papers tied with a ribbon. —Take them with you. They are maps and drawings where I recorded what we found in the last few days. I do not intend to publish them, but they may be useful to you one day.
— They certainly will be — Kadir said, shaking the geographer's hand in gratitude.
Hamad also approached with a bow to bid farewell to the foreigners:
— We thank you for everything you did for us, brave warrior! — Ladslav said — me especially.
— I hope you no longer harbor any suspicions about our work — added Meirinho — I would be sorry if you still distrusted us.
— Stay in peace, Mr. Meirinho! As Master Balam said, everything is already written. I will always remember the good friendship we cultivated during those days.
After that, the now reduced group set off once more to an Oasis that was right at the junction of the destination each one would take next. Together, for the last time, they erected the tents where they would spend the night. The next morning, still in the early morning light, Hamad went to his horse, preparing it with his few belongings to continue on his way. He intended to leave soon, without attracting too much attention. However, a presence behind him made him turn around. He stopped in surprise as the young gypsy approached.
— Aisha!! – he exclaimed
Then he dropped to his knees in a salute that expressed all his admiration and respect
The young woman removed the veil that covered her face and gently took the brave Tuareg's hand, forcing him to stand up.
— Please, stand up. You know my real name, dear friend. Why all this ceremony?
— Caillin,— he said in an emotional tone – so you finally remembered?
— Yes, I remembered!! – she said almost in a whisper. – Thanks to everything I've experienced, but especially thanks to you, I remembered. I now know my roots, my past. I wasn't born a slave to anyone. I can choose my own destiny, just like you, Randú.
Hearing her call him by his secret name produced a strange emotion in the Tuareg's heart.
— So, destiny brought us together once again, Cailin and Randú! What will happen now? – he asked.
The young woman simply smiled. A sad smile, aware that now was a new reality. A new beginning.
— Recovering the memory of my childhood made me see that there are many forms of slavery. Some with fewer shackles than others, but slavery nonetheless. I certainly don't want to go back to that.
— You're right, my princess – Hamad said, without taking his eyes off her – They traced our destiny when we were too young. We were linked together regardless of our wishes, dreams or desires. But Allah has shown us so many other choices, so many other paths. You are free now, princess. The desert is your home. You can follow whichever path you wish.
— And you,— she interrupted, — have you made your choice too? I see you are ready to go.
Hamad tightened the reins of the horse he had been preparing and stroked its fur, as if seeking strength and meaning in what he was about to do:
— Sometimes it is not a matter of choice but of duty. There are important things to deal with at this time and they do not concern me alone. If the world goes to war, many conflicts and disputes will soon reach our territory. If we do not take care and unite, soon we will have no choice, no place to pitch our tents, tend our flocks or weave our carpets. I need to reunite with my brothers. We need to know how to defend and preserve what we have. Our faith, our culture, our secrets and riches. Or we will be nothing more than nothing in the days to come.
The young woman remained silent. She had no idea what this "world" he was referring to was. For her, the world was summed up in that moment. There was a tightness in her chest that she could not identify. She saw that Kadir was also approaching to say goodbye to his friend. Hamad noticed the young sheikh approaching and asked in a forced tone of indifference.
— You will leave with him, I presume?
— No, — the girl replied, — not at all. I will continue with Sheikh Sayad's group. I still have much to learn about the Koran, about poets, about the art of healing, medicines and the preparation of potions. If this war you speak of comes here, the people of the desert will need people who know how to heal the body and soul.
Kadir joined them in time to hear the young woman's last words.
— So you have also made up your mind, Aisha? — he asked in a tone somewhere between surprised and melancholic. — How wonderful! I know you are in good hands. You will be a healer of great wisdom.
And turning to the Tuareg, he continued:
— And you, Hamad? Are you really going to leave? I thought you wanted to join the Knights.
Hamad looked at the young man with a smile.
— That will certainly happen someday. – as he spoke, the Tuareg instinctively sought the eyes of the young gypsy who had replaced the veil over her face, but who was looking at him anxiously. – Do you think I will know how to return, little Aisha?
— I hope so – said the young woman, extending her hand once more – I hope so.
That handshake could last an eternity. They seemed to be in a bubble that separated them from everything else.
The presence of Kadir, as well as the others who were beginning to move ahead, suddenly meant nothing. Aisha felt her heart empty with a pain welling up in the background. Contemplating love from afar was no longer useful to her. Hamad or Randú, the husband that destiny had sent after her, had finally reached her. Now, however, he said that he needed to leave. That is why she squeezed his hand even tighter as if he wanted to keep the feeling of that touch and seal a commitment once again. There was not much to be said. There was not even room for goodbye between them.
— I will return, princess. Don't worry. Fulfill your destiny, I will fulfill mine. Inch Allah!! I will see you soon.
— Wait, please!! There is something I want you to take with you so that you don't forget the way and know how to return,— the young woman said in a determined tone.
Then she reached into the folds of her clothes and pulled out the feather that the Simorgh had left for her and that she had kept ever since.
Both Hamad and Kadir stopped in surprise. Hamad held the feather, half surprised and moved. He saw that there was a name written and recognized Cailin's name. It seemed that another pact was being made between them.
— Are you sure, Aisha? Do you really want to give me this?
—I am giving it to you so that you can bring me it back. As a guide to guide you to me on return. Inch Allah!! Come back soon!!
— Inch Allah, my friend,—Kadir said, interrupting the idyll and going to the Tuareg for a strong hug. He also looked at the Simorgh's feather with an ecstatic look. What destiny had the sacred bird foreseen for all of them?
— May Allah accompany you on all your paths!!,— he said as he tracedover the Tuareg's head a blessing sign that had learned from Balam.
Aisha walked away as she watched her friends say goodbye. A part of her story ended there. Each one would take a different path. Whether they would meet again was another story. She was happy to feel free, but she realized that there was a price for this freedom. She had made a choice and she would honor it. There was a feeling of loss in her soul that translated into a bitter taste in her mouth and a tightness in her heart. But she knew that this too would pass, as so many other things did. Once again she remembered the reading of the coffee grounds she had done back in the little sheikh's tribe when she had planned her escape. She remembered that the woman had told her that she still had many things to reveal, but she had interrupted her. She didn't want to go that far into the future, she had said that day. Now she was making the same decision. She didn't want to look into the future. There was no rush to know what would happen the next day. The future is Allah's time and in it we reap the results of our daily choices.
Hamad also did not turn to Aisha. He said goodbye to his friend, mounted his horse and galloped off with the grandeur of desert warriors.
— May Allah be with you!! You were a great friend!!,— said Kadir. —Go in peace and return safely!
—Great Allah! May he how to return, — murmured Aisha with lost look.
— He will certainly know! Have faith. Allah will protect him, — said Kadir with a sad smile. —Besides, — he added, — part of your soul has been left behind. Whichever path he takes, your return is already planned. The Simorgh will guide you. Don't worry, Aisha, this is the life of the men of the desert. It was like that with my father and grandfather. It is in this constant coming and going that they find the strength that makes them who they are.
The young woman sighed and looked around vaguely. Sheikh Sayad's group was already moving ahead, looking like they were about to leave.
— I have to go,— she exclaimed, shaking off her sadness. Then she turned to Kadir and, standing in front of him, spoke in a low voice and looking down at the ground.
— Master, I don't know how to thank you for forgiving my mistakes, for having deceived you and for granting me my freedom.
Kadir looked at the young woman in the burqa as if trying to recognize, among those dark cloths, the features that had accompanied him for so many days in the desert under the guise of the pilgrim Randu. He gave her a frank smile, bathed in nostalgia, and said:
— Don't do this, Aisha!! I haven't given you anything that wasn't already yours. Forgive me, my sister. For not having had the strength to recognize your courage and bravery. I should have done so sooner. Forgive me for all the pain I have caused you. Forgive my blindness, my stupidity and lack of understanding. I will pray for you every day. May Allah illuminate your path and make you very happy.
The young woman couldn't say anything else. She was visibly emotional and filled with memories and feelings. She took a few steps back and, with a deep respectful bow, said goodbye to the man who had been her reason for living and her only family for a long time. She tride to hide her emotions and quickly walked away towards the new destination.
As soon as Aisha left with her new group, Kadir went to one of the highest dunes in front of her and stood on it, looking at the horizon. Of all those who had camped there, he was the only one who was in no hurry. He wasn't going anywhere. From the top of the hill, he could see the dust of Hamad's horse disappearing along the path as it moved further and further away. He could also see the movement in the opposite direction, of the Sheikh's small caravan that would take Aisha to the destination she had chosen. He was the only one left, not knowing which direction to take. There was a tightness in his heart greater than he could express. Between a love that had not been fulfilled and the loss of two friends, the latter option weighed much more heavily on his soul. He still longed to explore the mysteries of Paradise and the paths that lead to it. But the loneliness of this journey was a much greater burden than he had ever imagined when he had left everything behind. The tears began to roll silently as the figures disappeared into the distance. He cried copiously when he could no longer see them. Then he knelt on the ground, handing over his pain to Allah, without words or any plea.
—The longing will mature your soul, young man! And the good memories will serve as support on your new paths.
He turned, surprised by the sound of that voice and by the presence of Balam at his side.
—Balam??— he exclaimed almost in a shout of joy and astonishment.
He stood up, quickly dusted the dust off his knees and approached the dervish, touching his hands as if to confirm his presence.
— You are here! Master? How can you? Where were you?"
— Around there... — Balan said vaguely with a smile.
— That's incredible!! – the young man continued in disbelief – How is that possible? You keep disappearing. Coming and going...
— Coming and going, yes – the dervish agreed with a smile – not disappearing. I don't have that ability yet.
— Did you come with Simorgh? Probably... – the young man insisted
— No! Of course not! – Balam replied vehemently – The Simorgh has more important matters to take care of than to attend to the "coming and going" of an old soul like me. He has already touched us. It is up to us to decide what to do with this blessing we have received. Besides, it doesn't take much to get where you want to go.
— Whatever... — said the boy — you can explain it to me later. I am very happy to see you again, Master. How good that you are here!
As he spoke, Kadir held the dervish's hand between his own, pulling him to sit beside him, on top of the dune. Balam nodded and sat on a firmer mound next to the young man.
— I am also happy to see you, my boy. Where are you going?
Kadir sighed deeply. There were wrinkles on his face that were not there before and the look he directed at the horizon had a melancholic and indecisive tone.
— I don't know, Master! Maybe I stay here, maybe I go back to home and see my grandfather again. Or, then, I must complete the Hajj and honor my faith before returning. I will need to have the strength to ask for forgiveness and hope, to be accepted back home.
— And where is your home? — asked Balam.
Kadir was silent for a few moments, looking at the horizon around him, and then he answered with a smile:
— Far beyond the end of the world??
Balam let out a loud laugh, shaking himself and punching his knees:
— Well, well, boy!! What if the world has no end? What if each end is just another beginning?
Kadir was silent. What if Balam was right? – he thought – What if his journey up until now had been just a constant round in circles?
— In that case – he said after a while – It doesn't matter if we go on or go back. It will be the same.
— Hmm... I can see that you are confused, boy. Shall we remember the old lessons? Where is Paradise?
— Beyond the Mountains of Káf! – he answered briskly, but then he lowered his head and continued in a low voice. — But it is impossible to reach them.
— Impossible!? – Balam shouted – In that case, the touch of the Simorgh has not yet reached your soul.
The young prince stared at him with a desolate look. Balam then stood up almost abruptly, jumped back, then spun around and continued.
— You haven't reached it yet. Not yet!— he insisted. —That means we have a lot to do about it."
Seeing that Kadir remained seated without moving and looking at him vaguely, the dervish was more incisive. He lightly whipped his shoulder with the rope that held his clothes and spoke almost as an order:
— Get up, boy! Grab your things and come with me,— he insisted, forcing him to get up and follow him.
— Come quickly! I need to teach you some dance steps.
And soon after, there were two "crazy men of the desert," with no apparent destination, spinning in the sand like a whirlwind in the wind.
Notes:
Common expressions:
KÁF: In Islamic and Sufi tradition, Káf is a mountain range that surrounds the world, marking its boundaries. It is also associated with the center of the world, the place where paradise would probably be located for Muslims.
HANGING PIPE: A type of Arab pipe.
MEVLEVYIA: An order of whirling dervishes from Turkey and ancient Persia, one of whose main founders was the wandering poet Jalad ad-Din Rumi (1207-1273).
JHINS or Genies: According to Arab mythology, the jhins, jhinii or genies are ancestral spirits that lived near Paradise, but fell out of favor with the Creator. Since then, they have lived confined in caves, in the center of the earth, mountains and remote areas of the desert.
IBLIS: A demonic spirit in Islamic tradition. Similar to Satan. ALBORNOZ: Clothing typical of the Bedouins of the desert.
TUAREG or Tuareg, in Arabic means "abandoned by the gods".
SULIMANS: Lineage of wise kings of the East
HAMSIM: Infernal wind that blows in the desert during spring and autumn.
EL HAMLU LILÁ: Thanks be to Allah!
MINARET: Tall, thin tower of a mosque, usually with more than two floors and
a balcony intended for the muezzin to call for daily prayers
JINAS: Gnostic term that refers to beings and phenomena that transcend the physical plane and reach higher dimensions (4th or 5th dimension). ZIKR: chants with the repetition of the names of God
SAMA: body spinning technique performed by dervishes
AL MUHAYMIN: The Protector
KAKIM: A person who performs healing activities
MULÁ: – a type of shamanic healer who combines the art of healing with religious rites
HADITH: Sayings of the Prophet Muhammad.
MASHBAHA: A string similar to a rosary used in the religious practices of Islam. It usually has 99 beads, attributed to the 99 Names of God.
RABIAH-AL-ADAUYA: a mystical woman of Islam who lived in the 8th century, according to reference in Farid ud-din Attar, The Language of the Birds
The Author
My name is Renata Biscaia Raposo Barreto (R.B.R. Barreto). I am from Rio de Janeiro, I have a PhD in Education, I am a social scientist and a researcher in the areas of technology, instructional design and also holistic studies. I have Italian citizenship, through marriage, although I am of Portuguese and German descent. I have been a teacher and have worked in academic research for the last years before my retire. I currently dedicate myself to doing what I love most: traveling, playing with my grandchildren, reading a lot and writing. I write about the topics I have dedicated myself to, but, in both cinema and literature, I am passionate about fantasy works that mix adventure, romance, legends and many mysteries. I am passionate about anthropology, self-knowledge and human, psychic and spiritual development. In my writings I try to contemplate a little of all this richness. If you want to chat or learn more about what I write, visit my social networks or send me an email:
renatabiscaia@gmail.com