The Eternal Glass Ceiling :: The Neo-Reconquista

Chasing The Capuchin

Ashiq had conflicting thoughts of pessimism that overshadowed his optimistic thinking. These negative thoughts plagued his psyche convincing him that Musa would not come to his rescue and maybe the others were also dead by now. Walking through the jungle aimlessly, he didn't have a clue of where he was going or what he would encounter when he got there. However, he knew that going back to the shore wouldn't be the best option. Their ships were probably overran with Spaniard soldiers at this point.

If he went back to the ships there's no telling what would await the young Moor. The options were endless of what the conquistadors could do to him. If they did not kill the boy, they could capture him and sell him into slavery where he would be subjugated to a miserable life of inhumane living conditions, immense labour and unsanitary living environments. He would be kidnapped and transported to a distant land where he would never see his mother and father again. Or maybe he'd be tried by the Spanish Inquisition as a pagan just as they did Ms. Kamilia's family.

Since he was Muslim, he would lose the case for sure resulting in his torture and execution. "No!" the boy thought, "That won't happen! None of that stuff will happen to me! I will live and make it back home to my parents in one piece!" Ashiq had no clue of how dominant his willpower was but at that very moment when he made that simple declaration, the universe harkened to his statement causing his fate to shift drastically. However, the universe works in mysterious ways. Ways that man himself cannot comprehend, and Ashiq was now a man who became victim to the law of causality. Every decision he made from now on would result in a multitude of outcomes that could have a positive or negative impact on his life.

His feet began to grow tired of all of the running he had done, so he started walking as the rain drenched his clothing, soaking the material until it became heavy, sticking to his body. That's when he remembered, "Oh wait! My journal!" He reached his hand into his satchel to make sure that the journal did not get wet from the rain. To his surprised it remained dry and intact causing a cool feeling of relief to stroke against the boy's body. He then saw a giant tree off in the distance, posted in a wide open field. He swiftly ran underneath the tree for cover.

The canopy was huge, shielding Ashiq from the heavy downpour. He only felt a tiny speck of rain every now and again. He sat down under the tree looking around to make sure that nothing or no one had followed him; Spaniard or wild animal. Fortunately and unfortunately he was all alone. As tears fell down his face he removed his bag from his shoulder then dug into it pulling out the mask that the Spaniard wore. The mask was beautiful consisting of many fluorescent colors. He smiled in adoration as he looked upon it, that's when he took notice to the feathers at the top of the mask.

"Metallic green, blue and vibrant red . . . Could these be the quetzal feathers that the Mauritanian travellers described in the letters?" Ashiq thought. The mask displayed such skilled craftsmanship, artistic concept, and durability. It was apparent that the masked was not crafted by any primitive beings as the Spaniard had condescendingly suggested. Taking into consideration the fine architecture of the temple, the skilled masonry of the headstones, the complex layout of their village and the handiwork of the mask, this was enough evidence to consider these people quite advanced. Ashiq opened his bag placing the mask back inside.

That's when he felt the skull. He then reached for it taking it out and staring into the empty eye sockets. He gazed into the dark sockets of the skull for minutes then in a flash he began seeing visions of wars and conflict between the native people and the conquistadors. Villages were burnt to the ground, thousands were slaughtered and many died from European diseases. Instantaneously his body jerked forcing him out of the trance causing him to drop the skull. "W-What just happened . . .", he mumbled as he reached out picking up the skull and placing it back into his satchel. Taking a deep sigh, Ashiq looked up at the sky once more. The sun was about to set. This meant that dark was soon to approach, leaving him stranded under the giant tree. His best option would be to stay there for the night. He felt safer underneath the tree anyway. He rested his bag to his side then huddled in the fetal position attempting to stay warm. His body cried out for rest as he began to reminisce on Razin's wise words describing how the body required rest even if our minds refused to submit. He withdrew his quilt from his bag then wrapped up like a butterfly in a cocoon before immediately drifting fast asleep.