Monday, September 18, 2006



Kay Hassan

In the cruelest era of His life,
When the Divine's will was tied by the  sin,
The holy manta was  tossed away,
And the history was crumbled
 into lies -in- the universal bin.
Krishna fell like a humble  sinner, .
And forced to pray on the blazing sands of hell
Unhorsed, among-st a thousand  mortal jockeys,
Was  forced to give up  His foremost holiness, .

"Woe is me!"  roared his followers,
 When  His  soul  touched the dirt,
And ,unto Him  Shantanu the Great;
King of Kuru-Aryana- cried ,
"Oh, Lord, Thy Majesty, Krishna,the god,
What the pity I feel for my world."
Krishna rose up,and  blessed him,
Though, Sighed He.
"Still bleeding the Kurukshetra's wound, thy peer."

'visit Plutarch and read Demetrius'.
.............................................................................. ***

 I read Ode of David.
I read  Ode of the goddess of the valley,
I read Ode To Joy.
And learned how to sing,
and  throw my cruelest desires into the fire.

I sang silently and sat by the wrecked wall of the old house mourning my folk on the Sad Height. "Oh , Dear,  Almighty, say something -say  Peace be upon them. And strengthen  my heart, and bestow upon  me  a heavenly tongue and a real spiritual faith in myself . I shall show You how much, I am better than Your men, the hypocrites,'” I said.

“It was the worst of times." I shall confess . I was on my way with all those wrecked  blank ghosts , crawling under the smugglers’ whips to the shores of Greece, growling unto the remains of Achilles. "Europe here we are coming,”  I insisted ,where along with  such a horrible  journey , I thought , the world was crumbling into a thousand pieces . It was a sad autumn, and we were dwindling in the waste ---that is how is sounding  the  melancholia of the Eastern Monks.(I was not a monk though.)

In the beginning, Jasmine and Camali  had taken the lead, and took the old trail to the heights , and like the old stories, the  two lovers  had gone and disappeared in the heights . And then everyone in the old  slum thought I had known their plan and  brought  the disgrace to the Jasmine’s folk, and her tribe.

Jasmine and Camali were older than me. They had not even  bid me a farewell. I was no one in the slum , or  in the city or anywhere. But in aftermath I became a flammable  material for the daily rumors in the slum. The incident, however, provoked  Jasmine's brother  to hunt me down and  lay  the barrel of his gun against my temple. He shrieked furiously into my ear."Confess, bastard, traitor." I was neither a bastard or a traitor chap, but he was desperate, screaming furiously."Speak, why are you silent, and saying nothing. I am killing you right now, here.”

I did not know what to say, but had thought for him profoundly- well aware  that only God had known what the word, speak , meant at that moment inside my head.
"Speak,"   he repeated and insisted  until provoked in my head a great sympathy ; the kind of sympathy  that  victim feels for his predators."You don't know what you are meant to do, do you? "I yelled. "Speak...bastard, where is she?" The savage boy said, and reduced to tears.                                 His demand was horrible. “You know the answer, kid,” I said.
"My sister has gone," said he. "Do you know what have you done?"
"No I don't. I have not done anything."
"O' my God," he cried.
"What for you do blame me?."
" We can't lose  face."
" I am terribly sorry. But it is not my fault, "  I said.
"Sorry does not work for me. Only blood washes this shame," said he furiously.                                      "Whose blood?"                                                                                                                                         " Your blood!Everyone tells me to kill you."
"Think better...think like a mature man, brother."
"You never understand," said he.
"Jasmine was not only your sister," said I.
" Don't mention her name," said he.
" I have to tell you the truth," I said.

The  young  man was lost. He had to bear the shame or kill someone ...
I understood his pain well, so I waited for the horrible blast inside my head . He was crying, and  I was gazing into his  iris the tiny  remain of the Medieval  bashibazouks' dark eyes, and screamed.
""Shoot, bastard, shoot."
 And  waited until he lost his grip on his weapon, and left me for my grieve.


I was obsessed with the roaming bards, and passionately used to watch  them walking in one step with the gypsies until the end of the season. Those days , they wrote their best songs, under the twilight's horizon, and  walked through the narrow lanes and the little streets of the imperial era. I followed them and dreamed of a thousand splendid cities of the old contentment -beyond our world. The most painful things for me was even our bards had  not written a single word on Jasmine and Camali, for having been  cursed as if they had committed the capital treason.
Although, the 'escape' was our national fever , I could not follow the two lovers to the mountains for not having skilled enough to take care of weapons and battlefields. I could justify my decision- I had not polished my dream to follow. At any rate, the lovers  had  their dream, and I had mine- a different  germ in my head."The old germ." Mother called my dream - the old germ-  which  had already over spreads in my head. "Your germs never let up, this way,son. Wake up and pray, instead," Mother said, she was as pious as prophets were. "I will... someday I will ,Mother, I will,"  said I, and left her on hope forever.
The journey, was not a divine plan all the same, but was a magical escape to the imperial harbor, the habitat of a thousand wise whores  beside the magnificent eastern  ghulams of the then time. I was convinced to polish my life skills, and  get involved in all  kinds of obscenities that were attached  to  the  bodies of those cities,

The cities were bordered by swamps and deserts. I thought everyone is breathing  the warm vapor and dust of desire  there. I was, inhaling dust and carrying on my back an ancient sack for my journey. It was certainly sparkling symbols of the hermits’ waltz , or mythical voyages to the galaxies.  I thought, I will be  meeting  the elites  of the seven cities, so I hid My Soul: The Satan's Epic, The  Journal of a  Devil  as modern Angel, and the  ripped pictures of Jasmine and Camali  in the highlanders' uniform, inside   the white pouch held on my back.
I surrendered to the fascinating rumors of the ancient bards amidst fear and despair, however, I set off  regardless. The trail was veiled in the dusk, where shadows of the  ancient arches and columns looked like females' statues bowing t  o the coming dawn, scribe-ing , with my aid, the last episode of the city's tragedy. (The cursed love, fearful nights, women on fire, and wicked fellows.) While out of the city's border  where girls lived in the bucolic bliss,  were sewing  a dress for the local Orpheus. I was angry, for it was not the right time for such a legendary figure .

Everything outside my corpse was blinking quietly-with  a bit of  hangover  of the colonial time, waving farewells and giving me the last tribute. I looked around, thinking profoundly;  the whole world was disheartening the potency of the loneliness, and isolation. I had to remember. "I was a breed of a heathen town, man of the old craft,  deceit , sex, and capriciousness. No matter what my ingredient is,  I am a Plato’s apprentice." I had written this paragraph for my friend Camali, describing myself in freewill. But he was not happy. "Take care, young man, it is too early for you. I am certain  out of our circle, you are just a little orphan." I knew  Camali  was a real man, had genuinely chosen  his way and his woman. He was my example of the real man.
I was sick of the friends' farewell, smells of  gunpowder, screeches of women, and groan of men. Weary from the rotten geometries of our landscape and the sad topographies of the dreadful country. Everything was choking-and blocking  our sights. I remembered the quarrels in the humble cafes,  the wailing in the funerals, spree of wedding mayhem  , sad  and  blushing faces, gray spies, dusts, soldiers, patriots  and all the  world's Bashibozouks.
And then I looked into the heart of the dust, and the gray hedges of the  English gardens; everything was  now  dying  sadly. I had to watch the silver dusk which started now discarding reluctantly under the clearer horizon  and  the migrant  birds.
Oftentimes ,I  used to see behind the walls bald heads or shaggy hairs of fools screaming  at the passersby. "Son of  a bitch, motherfucker.   I will lie with your wife." And then bleating  unto the sky for a thousand times. The danger, anyway, was lying ahead, right there next to the wrecked corners and thresholds of rusted doors where through the  mythical illusions of  the southerner whores, were still seducing the passersby, whispering. “Come on little man, come on, if you dare to."
The cloud of the mid-autumn darkened the horizon. I cried unto the sky. "Our old club has cracked, before you veil our secrets . " Have not  I farewelled them one after another, until the oldest member ran away, or disappeared in the heights?  They were all anxious to meet somewhere in Rome. Honestly someday, I have to tell Camali. " I shall write  'The Love Of Jasmine.'" Furiously,  I was certain he will say. "Leave me alone."

On the terminal of the royal street, at the left entrance of the ancient Plaza.'Al-Maidan.'  The historical heart of  the capital. I remembered when schoolmates had told me . “Never ask for accommodation , someone will  tell you. ’Here is Al-Merjan.’”  And  I had said .”What is Al- Merjan." They said . "Seriously, it is a Caravansary.”  And when they left my mind, I lingered there  looking through the  bright -lightened name of the hotel, tripping quietly into the city's memory lanes, along  with many glowing names in my head. I stayed there for a quite long while , gazing into my blank head  and rounding in there the painful clues into the ancient name Al- Merjan – the local word for  Coral-

I thought of the richness of  city's history and conceitedly  urged myself  to trace back the invisible spectrum of history  behind the name. I remembered  a thousand  concubines, chamberlains, and executioners of the Caliphs'  castles, and Sultans  -one after another,  by names, until I  rephrased my friends growl.   " It is in fact , Arab and Ajam's caravansary ," I murmured.
Things anyway, I thought,  were either the physical  remains of Ctesiphon or the thousand tales of Scheherazade, which had been corrupted in the Caliph's court into  the current memories about the city’s  nights . All  those things flashed and went through  my head  at first glance, in front of Al- Marjan, itself . I was restless, and tired, murmuring, "Al-Khayzuran, without the Nights’ Princess  you were but     a corrupted version of concubines  ."
The royal corridor was featured with yellowish tiles full of cracks, scratches and devils’ gaze. The ceiling was built of gloomy  local bricks. They were smoked like the masonry oven- bricks. The dim reception was  far...I stepped forward  and stood looking, from the entrance, murmuring, “O. Ishmael “ My name was  Ishmael. “What has brought thy  to this ancient Khan(Inn)?"                                                                                             But in contrast, to sooth my concern, murmured, almost exactly at the same time. "It is your destiny, at any rate, Ismael."
I looked around through the huge  window on my left hand side, to where lay a stony terrace under the shade of a vine  of an Eurasian  ivy  plant stretched eerily around a fountain in the middle of the side -yard .I pondered, gaping, yet, until in  a crucial moment I glimpsed the arches of the entrance to the ground level, which were hiding the  traces of horses, mules, and herds  of livestock.  I thought ,perhaps  they were stalls for caravans of Ajem and Arab. I was now approaching the reception  area, with my chaotic mind, until  was savagely shaken by a figure of a real creature, half hidden behind his giant throne like table.
"How long, do you stay?"  an old man rudely  grunted  behind the table. Actually, I was excited and readied to respond , however, immediately,  he restructured his speech."I would like to know how many days you stay in my hotel. It is an official routine questions."
"Right," said I, and thought with myself."Alas, am i so unrealistic?"

I was stunned, for not having expected  anything of the sort.  The man, however,  grinned, and  in a very ancient  accent, precisely, bragged, like a judge in his court- or even a king, a fucking local chieftain in his tent. Anyway, he was typical citizen  . For such situations, I used to bid myself  myself furiously ."Dismiss."
 "What is  your name?" said he.
 "Ishmael," said I.
I was no one...but had that name, indeed.
"Your identity card."
"How long you stay here? said. he again,
 "Well! Actually,I say.'A long term.'"
 "For a long term! Perfect. I like the long term," said he, and then bellowed. " Narsis."
In response, a young boy set off  and whistled to show me the way to my room.

 I felt the landlord was exercising his mythical  power on the ancient  premises as if was sexually obsessed with the place. He called me by my name from the dark side of his niche, and gestured  to his boy, Narsis, to halt. He in fact, I realized,  was trying to introduce himself to me.
“Ishmael, I am Nahoom," said he aloud, and did not say anymore.
I was stunned, but bowed politely, then  kept on my way murmuring to myself."Nahoom."  And shivering with the impact of  the ancient presence in such an odd  name,and his obscure sovereign on the premises, perhaps upon everything there, including  the materials of the  couches, tiles, rooms, the fountain, the body of the young boy and the dwellers of the Inn.
Thus  I started living in his Inn forever.


People started in that afternoon rushing through the streets, screaming,and blowing all kinds of hoax, and swearing at enemies who were supposed to watch them now. They were too ancient, and had been kept up dull and gray  like the native swamps and dead tree- trunks.

Nevertheless, in my way,I could remember the whispers of the fountain, and the dullness of the  terraces, and Nahoom's  throne court.
"What are you looking for, Ishmael?"Camali said restlessly.
"I am looking for Harmony,"  said I.
"Harmony? You mean peace."
"Yes. Harmony."
"Harmony in what?"
"In this crazy world."
"Show me one piece of such lie , man."
"Oh- ungrateful beast...look at Jasmine and your mother's garden," said I.
"You did not say Jasmine and Camali," said he.
"Right, Jasmine and Camal."

I had already surrendered to the stream of a cruel shiver in my body.
 "Here, my dynasty was being cut off," said I when on  the destructed scene, in my mind, I displayed the  landlord’s coats of arm and his dynasty's written scripts.

In my dream again, the hoofs of the invaders' horses  pattered  on my skin, and  I felt them  clearly; they were lancers, archers, knights, with spears, armors, arches, and catapult.Bare handed, had to face  a thousand  races. They  halted and then huddled  along the castle's fence, whereas then the  chieftains were to scream loudly. "Here we are, lord."
"Destroy the city, kill the men, and take the gold and women."
They bowed and hailed." Long Live."

 I had gone too far, and for having resided on the edge of the hell, the time had betrayed me, however, like a crazy teen I knelt  before the fountain, in the Nahoom's orchard. The royal trace  was still hissing stately and watering the orchard  to  bring  everything back to life; the.marble terrace, the wither tilia, the oak tree, the arches, and His  horses in the stall.I whispered, in such a marvelous   dreamy quality- lot . “Here is thy court, and thy throne, where arst thy cortege and thy Pater.”
After all, anyway I became  a renown resident  in Nahoom's hotel.


I was  familiar with everything in the hotel, however, honestly, had been mostly dealing with the doors, windows, toilets, water taps..I used to watch the world through the only window that my room had.  I shouted, through the  same window for a thousand times."I am who was  fallen, Jasmine, not you." upon the screams of the crowd down on the street, beneath my window.

 A voice, always called me to fly ...high, high, highly, highly.
"Jasmine is fallen," her mother said.
"No she is not," I said.
"Yes she is," said she furiously.
"No she is not. Jasmine is better than many people whom you respect."
" Why do you say that?"
"O' dear he thinks everyone is wrong," my mother told her.
"No, I am certain," I said.
"Whatsoever," Jasmine' mother said.
"Whatsoever?" I snapped.
" It is over, it is over," said she.
"What is over?" I said.
"My son has gone to kill her," said she, and reduced to tears.
Though was shocked, I could henceforth avoid the couple the tragic fate.

Vendors and hawkers were screaming on their stocks to seduce the passersby. However, that was my impression until was startled by a deep whisper. "For God’s sake, why does a young man like you stay alone in this  dark room?"
Startled, and  responded immediately, I grunted. "What?"
He was Nahoom, who kept  then asking  queer questions, which somehow inspired me to venture and peer into the deepest of his exhausted machine. The man  was unhappy to see anyone  spend a lot of time on his property.
"It is a threat. It is a threat," said he.
" I understand. I understand," said I quickly.

Nohoom was on his routine tour in side his premises. And for being suspicious continuously, he tried to justify his point of view, and murmured firmly. “Every one is a  stranger to me, in this world, sir!”  I thought he was unfair, however, in fact, I was stunned, for  the man had truly  talked on behalf of me. Actually I nodded spontaneously  to where every night a stranger slept, and left  with the first bird's whistle."Bastards,they were bastards," I intended to scream, but I did not.


The  residents of the hotel kept ascending and descending the stairs early, or at late nights, talking, and drinking, or  praying. Nahoom, some times was turning nasty, posing threat on the residents.   barking .“Son of a bitch, you have no money, you are colorless, black,white , have no blood in your veins, have no fathers, and you think you are a man.” They were  either poor locals, or Chinese ,Indians, Egyptians, and Philippine.

 In  his  fight with a long stay resident , once , Nahoom bellowed. " Pick up your spit, you bloody bastard... I will never let mice  live on my property."...
"Respect yourself, Mr. Nahoom," the man said.
"It looks you,  don't know me.  Ask who am I?"
"You are Nahoom," said the man.
"You don't know a man until you ask your mother," said Nahoom.
"I said respect yourself, Mr. Nahoom."
" Get out of here, and never show me your face," said he.
The man left. He did not say anything.
"Get out of here,  man," sternly, said the boy Narsis .and pushed him to the edge of the stairs.
Then  there was a silence for a long  while.
 Nahoom  broke the silence and whistled  oddly, until suddenly, Narsis interrupted him."But the man has  nowhere ,"said he.
"What do mean, bastard?" grunted Nahoom.
"Nothing, sir, nothing."
"Oh, bastard...if you keen, remind me later."
"I will, sir.I will.".


I dug in my hermitage when was  qualified to bury the  heart of a young girl who once  loved me, for having recently read Die Leiden des jungen Werthers. however sooner I ceased  conducting my rite, in my humble observatory,particularly when started working in the National Museum, the place where, in fact, my obsession had led me to.
"Here are the remains of the ancient  kingdoms, Ishmael," said the executive manager of the renovation project, and walked through the ancient  thrones, standing  walls , arms’ remains and gears, bones, beads, necklaces, gemstones. It was  one of our war’s eave . The man  knew how I was feeling about the war, I  thought,  that was why he said. ."Every day in our lives is a war eave, my friend." Actually  I was most pleased by his humorous accent.
"Right," said I politely, and silenced myself.

Henceforth  , day, I lived in the past with the ancient  ghosts  till the sunset, and only  stayed at nights in the hotel. Most often,in my holidays hung around  on the  river’s banks,and  during my worst time I talked to the stream like  morons."Wash me, lord, wash me , lord." Or  borrowed the dialogue of a great poet used to live where the rivers'  headwaters lay, or was listened to the  seagulls squawked upon songs rose  up from the boats midst floating bodies. I knew they were real fishermen, fishing for life or  drinking the worse local alcohol.

I was obsessed with the breeze, and  smell of  smoking  fish in the outdoor restaurants  along  the Tigris  bank,however, anyway, most often  I could rid of the museum's ghosts during my tours..
"Are you ready for the mission?’my mentor in the museum said.
I remembered his odd eyes questioning the stones.
"Yes I am, master," said I, focusing  on the sculptures.
"You are doing well," said he.
"I am learning, sir."


My friend was supposed to wait for me before a famous café in the capital.I looked through the smoke, it was blurring the sky of the old cafe. I saw there as usual the same  gray- cracked  faces  screaming, midst the cracks of Domino and songs of the Egyptian Lady... I saw newspapers, beads, tearing eyes, and a few books; included   at least a couple of  Marx's volumes.
 "It is too late,"  I said ,desperately,.
"It is the right time to visit our lady," my fried said confidently.
  I thought, he was honest, however, we both owed her many visits.
Our  lady was  Mother and  Mentor of the girls  of  the  Firdews Tavern.
"O' Taveran's Queen, here we are coming,"I said, honestly.
"The best place to be."
"The best place in the world, for this ugly  Friday night," said he .
"O' yeah."
"Are you happy in the  graveyard...I, I mean the museum," said he
"Oh, no, it is  a Holocaust remains," I screamed.
"But no one claim it."
 "I swear the museum is deforming you,"
"Good one listen, listen," I yelled and struggled for proper words.
"Go a head, " said he nervously.
 "The historians, had destroyed the crucial  evidences,"  said I.
 "What have you been doing?"
"Nothing much."
"Actually,I smell the  blood of tomorrow’s war,"said I with a shivering voice.
"Goodness, you are not clairvoyant, are you?"
"Calm down, it is not a threat," said I.
"Then lets drink, my friend," said he enthusiastically, and we drunk...  waited patiently  for the Queen of Firdows. but she did not come,


The museum again...I could remember many things happened, our drink on the weekend ; we did not meet the Queen of Firdews,  Nahoom got a very bad cold,and  it made him worse.The museum again, I thought profoundly, and read. "My own  goddess had abandoned me."
Halted before the chief god himself...actually I lingered  against  his stony silence.“Is your apprenticeship includes questioning me, boy?" said the old god.
"I am not certain of anything, almighty."
"Learn your duty, or go back home," said I.
"Keep your mouth shut."
I yelled, impolitely and readied for the consequence.

 In my dream at nights.I say. "Fuck" Then I say." Fine." The walls of the old house,flashed in my head.I thought, I  was hit by a thunder from his glowing  eyes.Then I slipped through the darkness.
"Right, anyway I am back."
 Everything was kept as was, so I climbed the front  fence as I used to , then walked around the house , struggling to hid my shadow; sneaked and   gazed through the windows, looking for the blue rays and bright eyes of my brothers, they all  were sleeping.
 " Am I not  recovering this hangover?" said I.
"It is better to,"said a female voice, worked in the salary division. .
"Good morning," said she.
"Good morning," said I.
"Sign here," said she and showed me  my name.

I remembered everything. After the drink of that night, I went back to the hotel  alone, my friend was nervous, growling on the streets. Then I lost him. Actually we both were lost, and each on his own, had,   with the frame of the weakest beast  strayed through the corridors and little lanes. I was a dark rock in the dusk, hitting the breeze, weeping for no certain reason. I tried to see myself through the darkness as hard as a rock- a human- rock. I thought and went through the names of the rocks."I came like a rock, like Maupassant." I said and gazed into  many of them-  and sculptures with tearing eyes; practicing Yeats' Rock. " Like this everlasting rock my crying is." Actually I needed more rocks. "And above all, then I had seen Peter, he was as solid as the Vatican Rock."

They came  to visit the Rock of Hafez. I remembered."They visit the  rocks of my temple."......
"The old warriors of the Sad Heights were as gray as  rocks,"  my brother said.I tried my best to look through his eyes, when almost exactly crossed  the threshold of the hotel's gate and saw Nahoom lurking on his perch, drinking, and murmuring sadly an old melody with an easy sway of his head. And then  his dark face glittered as solid as a grey rock. I felt he was smoking and sobbing for all the Jews.

With a Startling likeness to all his kind, he mourned himself  "This night is too long, son," said he.
In fact, Nahoom  was weeping. Strange... never had imagined  tears  on his rigid face. I watched him for a while. " It is long for everyone, sir," said I.
It was inappropriate to sit with him at the late of the night..
"Right, but not as much as it is for me," said he.
"Oh, yeah. But you deal with it better than others,"said I..
He giggled aloud, albeit desperate. But  I left him.

I stood before the door, gazing at the moonlight everywhere in the corridor, while hesitantly touching  the knob to let myself in. I opened the door. And a  warm wind rushed out through the door with some obscure odors. I stepped in through the celebrating signs, which were glittering everywhere in side the room. I stopped  with stunned eyes, and worried as much as solemnly the incense odors effused all kinds of the  shrines' smokes.Anyway, with all due respect, I could see, the space was not elegant. At least  Myth, Mysticism , Misery ,and  Mourning flashed in my head
"India!" I cried.Myth, Mysticism , Misery ,and  Mourning flashed in my head

Hardly,remembered, I was  drunk, when  naively screamed again "India!" Even suspiciously looked around, in  the moon's  light, and the  kindles' flames, and felt the breathe of a newcomer.
I could not stop my rage though, sat on the edge of my bed, and kept swearing and yelling until a strange  ghost like shadow emerged from the farthest  corner of the room, murmuring in a strange accent. ‘Hi. I am Aaron,"said he.
I was was shocked. "Aaron!!! Aaron," he kept repeating."Aaron."
"My ghost!" gasped I and fell asleep forever.
Actually...definitely, irresponsibly  I stayed in the bed until the moment when the boy Narsis whispered in my ear. " Master, Master." ...
"What do want, boy," said I nervously.
"Wake up, master. it is too late," said he.
"Late for what, boy?" said I, and saw his skeptic eyes, glittering in his blushing face
"For you," said he.
"BOY,"yelled I." Why you let this beast sleep in my room."
"He got books as much as you got," said.
"Fuck. You know nothing, Narsis," yelled I.
"I think say so," said he.
"Oh. master, sorry, I forgot. Wake up for breakfast," said he.
"That is better."
"I am starving!"


The mythical style of the newcomer became part of the hotel's mosaic; Nahoom, Narsis, myself -the weird  and many others who  came and left or stayed forever. However, unfortunately,  from now on, the newcomer Aaron lived in my room... thus we started our journey, together.
"I see glittering hair, smooth, and tanned skin - always in a white dress.".
"Indian prince?" I said
.His eyes flashed, and emitted many sweet lights.
"Probably, humbly I was," said,he and smiled brilliantly. .

Once, when he glimpsed my nasty gaze at his pouch, he lingered restlessly and  snapped. " It is  forbidden."  And deliberately,nodded to  the writing on the sack which was  left  leaning on the wall. "Only,truth triumphs, never violate...never fornicate, never betray,"  he  read the words for me..........."These words anyway would  protect you from any evil act, if only if  you really and truly believed in them," said he and then on, he refused to talk to me  for the next twenty four hours, watching all the while, the clarity of my senses' responses. 
" I won't," I told myself.
"Strange ,"  said he randomly.

 Aaron, most often,  sat politely talking on the human internal power, praying bravely for a long time against the universe- Almighty as if was charging the machine of his soul.His obsession, anyway, eventually his obsessions, controversially looked like some sort of  the  paganism -practices.
 "I feel I was born in a huge khan (Inn),"  said he... actually he confessed unconsciously.
I was certain he meant the universe.
"We are part of it, anyway," said I.
"I travel walking on foot, my friend." said he.
"What are you trying to prove," said I.
"I have to live every second universally," said he.
"It'd better live - earthly," said I cynically.
"Earth is nothing compared to it."
"It suit our size, at least," said I.
He laughed elegantly. I thought he was.
We were now friends, however I kept always  looking for an opportunity to wrong him.., and in those occasions he used to look at me strangely and shudder his shoulder, in  preparing himself  to leave me alone. Probably... I was certain, he believed, Man is better when he thinks

We spent more time  together, and talked  on the universe, religion and history. Even, for a while  I stopped sitting with the  other hotel residents  in the reception hall, where Nahoom set a new television..The  hotel residents were not happy with my behavior, but none of them dared  a  to say a word about it. Nevertheless,the rumors went on around, and they started talking on Aaron aloud. Actually he became the favorite topic of the season. And at the end, they agreed to talk to Nahoom to kick him out. Nahoom agreed on one condition :No one curses his blessed name.But they flattered  Nahoom, and went too far.
" Do y ou know what?' they screamed
I heard this conversation.
"He is working for a thousand persons, and not pay you well."
"He is ungrateful to any of them. though, they pay him very well."
"The worst he does not believe in God."
"Fear God. He always prays. Ask Ishmael."
"He does not pray...he thinks it is a game."

Nahoom was  silently checking on the names of the his hotel's  residents. And as fairly as he could he thought, I am responsible for everyone here ...responsible for many people,  even sometime the world's  population was less than the folks reside my property.
 "God, I am grateful," said he ,then  halted  and stared  at them,desperately.
"Enlighten me,"said he.
 His speech was not ready though, he thought deeply.
"I am who I am, children ..."he did not  say it, instead, he nodded to Narsis with a strange sign.. I could not understand him until Narsis came back, and brought a book with him. Nahoom looked into the book....and  read some verses from Exodus.
And aspired by the book, confidently  Nahoom said." His name is a great."...
It looked he  disappointed them,

And then someday latter, in a strict conclave - under their pressure Nahoom agreed to fly his spies, who set off searching the capital’s heart,until  they brought back their final report on Aaron, and  put it in front of him with a list of Aaron's jobs.They were chanting and counting together. “Carpenter, mechanic, shoemaker, potter, laborer, specialist doctor, lecturer in university, and a  beggar in front of  many shrines.” The kept counting until  Nahoom yelled."Goodness. He is a curse,"

Nahoom  was restless, trying to justify his decision.
"All the holy professions," said he, and listened to more details..
When  everyone left the hall, Nahoom  and Narsis gathered to each other.
"I see him in the tavern, collecting money and remaining wine in disguise," said Narsis.
"How did he  reach there? I say who told you?" Nahoom cried.
"I followed him, sir," Narsis said.
"What had you been  doing there?"
" I go there to see Jeanette."
"Bastard, you  are a bastard," said he pleasantly.
"Honestly. He did not do anything wrong," said Narsis.
"What else?Boy, don't worry. count on me. "
"Only when you grow up."
"I am seventeen and she is seventeen."
"Leave this to me.I'll talk to her mother."
" Let me kiss your hand."
"I said what else?"
"I tried to kick him out, but  Jeannette did not let me." Narsie said.
I thought he was lying until he said. "And I was scared."....
" Because he is honest and  innocent," said he.
Nahoom, in fact planted me  there, from my perch on the stairs.
He looked at me and murmured  darkly."I am who I am, master."....I understood he needed me to respond.
"I trust  your decision, anyway," said I.
"You help me to beat  my fear." said he.
"I am proud of you."
 It looked he would not  make any  decision very soon.


I saw Aaron with my eyes, in front of one of the  famous shrine in the city. He was lifting his hands up, aspiring to reach the sky like a fallen angel., submitting himself to Him through all his links to the religious signs. I felt I was watching the God's shadow on the earth. He was  mixing his purging attempt with  the  shrine's minaret in the sun light ...he  flied  high, then  froze on one leg as if was practicing  the Attitude derriè - in  a real  Ballet dance in the drive way, reciting his rites in Sanskrit , beseeching Him harmonically with his heathen statue. He was so close to Him  that I could see His footprint  on his forehead..

I felt my corpse in that autumn so cold and so weak that his attractive, vigorous power,lifted me up unto his  highest realm.In return we started praying with  the pilgrims, He smiled painfully, with the pleasure of knowledge reveal, glittering Shantih, shantih. I could not control myself, screamed loudly ." Aaron...Aaron. Who are you?’

When he did not reply, I remembered him regretting  Nahoom."Eyes are not lying, Lord of Merjan."
"I have no power on the mob, dear traveler, " said Nahoom.
"You are mastering the greatest  hag of this city,"said Aaron.
"What do mean? I am her godfather, boy, nothing else,"  Nahoom said sternly.
" I say, 'Yes, sir,' and I also say. 'You are who you are.’" said he.
I thought, in the next conclave,  if I said. " I saw you, sir."He would say.
  I would tell Aaron,in the next court.
 "No you did not,  Ishmael."

When in the next meeting the residents forced Nahoom to expel  Heron from his hotel. He said."It is a bad omen, boys.never have kicked a man out of my properties."
"And you won't," I said confidently..
"This fellow looks like Jesus," he murmured.
 I felt he was drunk,and could not follow him any further, so I retreated to my room, and hid myself, to practice how to matrix a poem- out of  those cruel days.
( Throwing himself on his giant spear. More savage  than  Holagu, the cruelest  grand son of Genghis khan , who  most often prints a kiss on his prey's forehead.)
Tottered, I was not drunk...but hardly  could stand myself, at the door's threshold. Hence I read. "That king was not only Holagu." But  no one  responded to my growl.

 I saw Aaron.putting his gears together... gathering himself to respond.
"The treason destroys you, someday,"said he,in a regretting mood .
 "What are you talking about?" I yelled..
Actually,he  looked frustrated,but went on a bit smoother. "Recently, Nahoom has told me.'I am not in a position to let you stay in my hotel.'” ....
"What?" I snapped,
" It is being a long time...I Know I am not welcomed here," he sighed.
 Then, he said. "Everyone says. 'You were the reason.'"
I was shocked, but  calmly said. "And what are you saying?"....
 "You are a traitor..."  said he. desperately

Traitor, anyway, in his accent was not  referring to the acts of Judas Iscariot.
"You know nothing, Aaron!" I said furiously, and urged him to speak, but he did not, instead
 he dragged his little luggage and walked away.
 "It is too late, Aaron," I said..
And only then Aaron turned his head and grinned strangely."Oh, is too late," said he cynically. Probably he misunderstood me, and thought I meant ; it is too late to do anything for him . I listened to his steps on the stairs, trying to keep his image in my head: A brilliant frame of sense and passion was wrapped by a tanned skin of a creature whom nothing could alienate him from this cruel  world.

In a great shock, suddenly, a roaring scream stirred the mood in place. The  man was flooded by the residents' rages. They thundered."Bastard...infidel  zendiq, blasphemer. Spy, you are a areal a Zionist's  spy." I  ran to where I could see the mob, surrounding Aaron;  spitting at him and raging savagely....everyone was ready to kill the foreigner . I screamed, with a childish rage.
‘It is not fair... for God's sake it is not fair."
They roared again and laughed maliciously.
Only then, Nahoom bellowed. "Everyone, SHUT UP." And nodded to Aaron..
 "You  don't need to leave tonight.Stay for to night."
Aaron halted, he knew it was not safe to leave at that time, trying to swallow his pride, however, anyway,  he accepted the offer .

Aaron stood awake all  the night, praying silently until the dawn...actually we looked like strangers, and could talk to each other. In other word he did not let me talk to him.Then earlier than usual  in the morning, Narsis  broke into the room with a piece of paper, and read loudly."Mr.Aaron, you  must leave immediately, over."

Aaron left, I saw him then with Nahoom, they were restless ,and were looking  at each other listlessly  "Leave us, son," said Nahoom sternly. He was not angry at all, actually,he looked up unto me. I was standing on the stairs... perched there like a sad heron.
"You are my witness, Ishmael," said Nahoom.
I shook my head; Agreed. Aaron introduced money to pay for the last night.
"Keep your money, Aaron,"  said he.
"Let me stay, for the rest of the month, sir," said Aaron.
"Nahoom never changes his mind," said Nahoom.
At the moment he begged the landlord, humbly Aaron looked at me.
"Say something, Ishmael...say, it is over," said  Nahoom.
"You shall not, Ishmael," said Aaron and looked into Nohoom's eyes.
 "I understand, sir,"  said he  and left the hotel.


Time had  passed by slower than ever. I met many people in the city,and  though  was introduced to more  elite figures in the city, I tried my best to hid my talent....actually our lady was behind such opportunity. She was always there for us-  (My friend and myself.)

Aaron had vanished, and never showed up ever since. Actually he had  not left any trace behind. Eventually, we did not hear about him until someday, without  any arrangement,he surprised me when unexpectedly  rushed into my work place-in  the museum- .and straightly  had me involved in his story.‘Ishmael," said he. " I understand what inappropriate means."...
His tone in fact,shook my whole body.
“I am exhausted, Ishmael," he  groaned.
"What are talking about?" said I restlessly."You are fine...I can tell."
"I am not, sir."
"What is wrong with you?"
"I am not well, sir," said he sternly.
I was frozen, trying though to catch  up... cried emotionally.
 "You  are too young for death, Arron,"
 He looked pale and exhausted.
"No, sir, you are wrong, I am ancient. The time is younger than me,"  said he sternly.
"You  are scaring me Aaron."
.‘For the first time,have chosen a wrong mission," said he.
 "Have Chosen what?” I cried.
"A mission...a mission"
"I can help," said I confidently.
"I believe you are the only one who can clean my mess," said he.
 "I will...I promise," I said awkwardly.
"Shall  you keep my words safe?" said he.
"I will ...I will."
"I am grateful," said he and left.


In the afternoon, I left the museum earlier than usual and went back to the hotel, where I saw Nahoom's face glittering joyously on the stairs, doubtless- for being in a company of his favorite female. He was getting the most obscure pleasure in the company of the city's unofficial  hag- our lady- Mother of the Ferdews' girls. He shared this deadly secrets  with her.Together were now  descending the stairs. The old woman was glowing distinctively. There, politely, I waited for them at the foot of the stairs....I bowed for her slightly. "Now, I can tell why everything  is so delightful her," said I.
"Ishmael, Iskmael.  knew many people of your kind, but you are brighter than them," said she.
"Humbly, appreciate your trust,my lady," said I.
"Come and lets talk," said she.
I felt sorry for being hypocrite.
"We had read your article, Ishmael," the hag said
"I am honored," said I.
"I believe, it'd better wait a bit...I care about you,"said Nahoom.
"Right...I understand. Thank you."
"My problem is I am not interested in the social and elite people's concerns," said I
"You will hurt yourself, young man. Someone has to teach you birds of a feather flock together," said she.
"Right?And what should I tell my people?' said she.
I was shocked.
"Today was your ominous day, I had mistaken not to telling you, Ishmael," said she.
"What is the occasion... actually I am not certain how to say it,"
"You won't be able to  avoid it by your own," said she.
"Enlighten me, Madame."

Nahoom was impressed.
 "I did not know how bad- omens can be stalked," said Nahoom.
"Actually, I need to learn this trade," said he.
"It is not a matter of learning  or acquiring knowledge. It is in my blood," said she and  delightfully blew her smokes in the air, and cast a glimpse at the  chemistry of my soul.
" I believe in God's plan, my lady," Nahoom said.
"Goodwill gesture...I respect your belief."
"Put your trust in God, only when everything fails," said she.

"Hang on, but forgive me for my greed; imagine , someday, my real estates  are gone,"said he.
"You are anxious."
"I am restless, I predict the danger."
"Angst does not make any difference," said she."I came her to command you, not to listen your complains," said she.
"Yes... your Majesty," said he cynically.
"I have some reasonable requests. Put Narisis  under your protection."
" I will."
"I will."
"And the girls."
"And the girls."
"Where is Narsis," Nahoom screamed
."Call, bloody Narsid ,I lost my voice."said he.
Narsis appeared, immediately.
" Son of  a bitch,"  said Nahoom.
. "I was in the kitchen," Narsis said.
"The lady is here," said Nahoom.
"Ishmael, Ishmael," the hag said in a sudden blow. "Your bad- omen,is Aaron."
"I  was thinking about Aaron," I said.
" He does not interfere with my lines," said the hag.
" He has Jeannette’s mind filled with junks," said she,
"Should we exile him darling," Nahoom said
"You can not, sir," I said.
‘What?’Nahoom said.
" You can not exile him." I said.
"Hang on, dear, hang on, read this letter, Ishmael."
The letter was on Nahoom's office.
"That is unfair, sir." said I.
"I had no choice." said Nahoom.
"What do you mean?" said she.
"You should not have touched his letter," said she.
"Forget it, darling," said he and laughed.
"Who knows where he is," said she.
"I know. but it is a secret, darling."
"No anymore," said he.

I stayed there for a long  time chattering,and laughing until with the ugly national anthem the TV station  started its daily programs, earlier than usual. However, anyway, I could not stop thinking of the letter all the while- rounding in my head  the meaning of the scratched words on the paper which hardly in a blink of  an eye,any one would perceive.

"Dear Mr. Raja A aron,
Surely you saved my daughter,
Never forget your grace, sir, God bless you, lord.
Almighty's Prince on earth
Almighty's light for poors.

Your Faithful Servant   G.R. Sinhal."

"Damn," I said, and nodded to the TV.
"What is going on?" said  Nahoom.
He looked at the screen and snapped."Oh, yeah, fuck."
"They did it...they did."
"The did . what?" said she.
"Wait, wait , and listen," said he.
"War! Fuck," said she.

I left them, and bid myself to disappear, however, ironically the national anthem lasted for a long time. They kept repeating the growl until I slept,  to wake up then  upon the news of the war's  declaration. Unconsciously I spat twice at the  picture hung on the wall and snapped. " Bastard." Anyway, then, I felt a great  relief , though was too hard to adapt the war's  march and breath its dust, and blood.

  Nahoom  announced his plan for  a great night- and had Narsis set  tables  for a a massive night. Like usual, he invited all the hotel's residents, and many friends from the city- they were only men, so he promised  to ask our lady for help. She did not mind to send a couple of  girls to dance, on a little stage we built in the huge reception hall; the first division ever I stepped in, in the premises. Aaron was the favorite topic of gossips with wine and beer

Nahoom, however,  was not always initiative, but occasionally was assertive indeed. In his point of view,anyway, the sweetest taste was in the wine served on the tables of his chattering guests.
Our lady sent three of her daughters, but she could not attend the party...
{Narsis, almost organized everything.)

On the throne  of Solomon son of David, Nahoom delivered a short speech, then sat with his guests one after another till was certain, it was time to drink with me. His speech was simple and short. "A bad omen is to abandon the cult of your own  clan. For God's sake let celebrate the cult of gossip." said he.
"Wow," the celebrants shouted and clapped joyously for his bravery.

The girls danced  and we drunk upon the start of the longest night of the city.
We were crazy ...obsessed with the girls' body like morons. Actually, I did not know how  the time
passed  until Nahoom occupied a seat close to me...he drunk and  sung with us, as much as he he could. He provoked us and challenged the youngest ones  to go further. He talked on the religions, politic,and  sex. And  when was bored he switched to the  hottest topic; Aaron.

I would not say, he deliberately chose his seat, if  he did not say. "What have you seen in him, master?" ...
" I have seen a human , sir," said I.
"What kind of human ?"
"It is hard to tell, sir."
He kept asking me ridiculous questions until a resident named Askender, interrupted him.
"You won't believe one would, "  said he.
"Talk, good man, talk," said Nahoom.
"I can't ... I can' is forbidden."
"It is about Aaron, isn't ?"
"Yes, but I am not saying anything."
Then Nahoom did not say anymore.Actually he surrendered to the celebrants  who urged him to perform something. "Sing Nahoom, sing," they yelled and dragged him gently towards the stage.
The landlord sung  one of the oldest song.
On the bank of the river,
We came  and talked.

Nahoom, looked like those sages who kept their wisdom for themselves.
He approached me again and  repeated his first question again..
 "I said What have you seen in him, master," said he.
I ought, to be honest, I had to talk in my language not in  peasants'.
 "A written book,  the soul of India who masters  flutes, wisdom, science  and the song of  Tagoor, sir," said I
" more, more."
"There is no ample time to talk on Aaron,sir," said I.
It looked, my words had  touched his heart
.I would  say." I silenced them."
 Nahoom, probably, and his guests on other hand  wished me the worst nightmare..
However anyway like typical hypocrites, sooner, we exchanged courtesy words.
"Good night."
"Good night everyone
"Good night."

Next day, and the days after, I started wandering on the same bank of the river. It was strange for a specie  like me ,not  having acquired yet  his wild sentiments against  the  winter. I walked midst the streams of the foreigners, who started recently posing a great threat on the people across the country. I screamed unto them."How different our maps are, brothers."

14- December.

 On our way to the tavern.(Our lady's tavern)...  my friend whispered..
 " Camali and Jasmine have married  publicly...tribal- ly  ,officially , whatever you want call ."
I could not believe my ear. They should have married, in the first place,... I yelled savagely.  "Why the hell it took them so long?"
"I don't  know," said he reluctantly.
"Oh, yea. Deja vu," said I.
"Deja vu.? What do you mean."
  "A  thousand obstacles!"
 "Man, thank God, and drink...drink their toast," said he seriously..
When we arrived, we looked for the best words for the toast.
"Well ready? May  the two..." he stammered.
"To the two." said he awkwardly,, and  then drunk on our spot, cheering then as loud as we could..
‘To Chamali... to the mountains," we chanted, genuinely.

 We were happy, and excitedly shouted.
"They married under bullets and shells."
" Long live...long live ... you know what I mean."
It was then when we saw the tavern's girl Jeanette sparkling on the stage midst a marvelous choir. She was singing and dancing with the youngest  body, putting all her spirit in her magical melody.And as she emerged and glimmered in the space , we both screamed.‘"Good God, what have you done?"
Halted and  screamed again .‘To Jasmine, to Camali’

"Our lady was right," I said when remembered Jeanette’s mother whispering to Nahoom."Tonight Jeanette  deserves a prince's kiss." We breathed  the wine odor and smokes in the humid  space.
"Darling, darling." we shouted to Jeanette, and she waved to us.
"Oh, miracles, Jeanette and  Narsis, " said I.
"Fuck ... shush, " said my friend, and  started weeping..
"I am not jealous..." said he.
 He had not drunken that much. "O, watch your mouth."
 "She is not yours,"  filthily, a man yelled at us."Is not she?"...
"She is an artist , deserve her fun's' respect," I said.
"She is our fairy princess," said he and nodded to his companions."Fuck him."...
 "You are just a bloody beast."
"Fine, are right, sir, " said I, and tried my best  to calm them down.

It looked they accepted my cool  attitude, but unexpectedly, in a sudden move, the dancer  ascended the stage and walked past me, and cunningly  whispered in my ear.."Aaron is commuting  suicide . master, " said Jeanette.She was broken, and I felt her real tears when she passed me Aaron's address...

Following  those brisk moments , a cruel roaring growl  stormed around us...                                            "To the hell...motherfuckers," they said  clearly.
Thank Goodness, anyway, the girl is safe, I thought, when I saw Jeanette in the right time slipping  out, and escaping  the  fatal  chaos so swiftly that the gang also  were stunned, and halted , prior to their attack. We were shocked, upon the crowd's outburst, who sooner smashed  everything on our heads. They knocked me down on , and  heaped  whatever they caught on my dead corpse; scraps, woods, bottles of wine and beers, dishes, knives, and tables


17- December.

"Dr. Aaron.S.Bahadur Shah," I read  in the badge was  hung on  his heart. The name was written with a silk thread like letters.
"It can't be," I gasped. "Goodness it is a dream,  I am certain it is."
And as the scene looked clearer I saw many the date on the wall.
 "Good God, 17 of December ...Dr. Aaron!"
"Dr. Aaron? So it is real, Nahoom's  spies told the truth"
"Goodness. You are alive," my friend yelled joyously.
 He was a good friend... fortunately was not hurt as much as I was.

Through the bottles on the boards around me,I remembered, the wine on the table, Jeannette’s body, crashed glass and students running  out from the tavern.I heard a funeral march, the traditional army's march.I was alone waiting for something to happen.But all in all I was fine. I needed to talk..
"Don't panic... no one dies under my hand," said Aaron.
I responded genuinely.
"Jeanette told me everything. What is you going on?" I said.
 He turned his face away.
"It is not a right time. You are still weak."
"No, I am not. I am  strong enough to hear your  nonsense," said I.
"Well, if I have to tell the truth. That is the truth, my friend. But it is not a suicide,"  Aaron said.
"You had told me. 'I am exhausted.That is fine, but suicide is not."
"My time is coming."
‘Time of what, Dr.?.’I cried.
“Gods’ and Mine, sir?he said.
"Aaron, Aaron, watch you mouth..."
"Let me then pass you,a bit of my mission,"  said he.
"What sort of missions, Dr."  I said
"The least I say may burn you."
"Words?" I gasped.
" It'd better  understand,otherwise, you are free," said he.
"That is the only thing I am good in," said I.
"Good in understanding what?" said he.
"The human pain," I said with my deepest voice.
"Then, I leave it for you," said he and left the room.

25- December.

Aaron had made his decision. He brought his sack and left all his secrets  in my care.
I was silent, gazing at him fiercely while graciously was  reading his secret.
"Om purnam adah purnam idam," said he.
"Stop...stop, and leave...leave" I said.
"Fine let me touch your head," said he.
I agreed.
"Don't read Aaron before his time comes,"said he and left.
"I promise."
1st - January.

Dear Mr Raja Bahadur Shah
-Sri Krishna-

Blessed lord, without you I should
have killed myself..

Your Faithful Servant.
D.L. Bradwja.
Dear Dr Raja Bahadur Shah

I received all you had sent
all my wishes , Sir

Yours Faithfully

With my ghosts , joyously, I read Aaron forgetting  all my pains. Even with evil eyes readied to
reveal  his secrets, devouring a thousand letters a day, unaware, I was  dismantling  his soul. .
"Bastard," I was  a bastard.

In the first day I read  as much as I could, and stayed awake until  dawn. The moment when I heard in  the quietness of the dead, a voice echoed and rhymed  the very verses of the man.
Om purnam adah purnam idam
purnat purnam udachyate
purnasya purnam adaya
purnam evavashishyate

 I was asleep. Jeanette's sad voice whispered several times in my ear.
"Happy new year,"said she.
 "Happy new year," said I.
"He's Gone."
"Yes. Jean, I have read his verse, I reached the end!" said I.
.I heard her gasps.
“Everyone  ridiculed me. Except you," said she, and I remembered his verse.
"Adore the harlot of Lord."

3rd -January.

I stayed with Jeanette on Aaron's coffin.We had already shrouded him with the best available linen in the city.In fact we tried to give him the tribute he deserved, however, suddenly a board from his hospital rushed in ,and  pushed  Jeannette out of the room.Some of them  grunted. "Out, dirty woman."
And one of them took a hold of my arm and dragged me to my bed.
"Dr. Shah had already reported his death,"  my  nurse said.
"Did he?" said I.
"Strange, is not it?"said she.
I begged her to let Jeanette in.
"She is a bad woman," my nurse said."Anyway, come in."

Jeanette sat close to my bed. I was certain the honorable harlot, Jeanette, and myself were the only people in the city who could pay him the tribute that might become him..
"What are you doing?" said Jeanette.
"I am saying .'The further extract of Veda and Vedanta in our  hermitage is only the skills of Monsieur Aaron son of Raja Bahadur shah," said I, and she burst into a loud,  bitter cry.
The nurses gathered in front of the door and looked at us with tearing eyes, until I murmured..
"Jeanette Jeanette lets go."



In the coming season , I  wrote more than ten thousand letters to all  those  addresses , and told them brassily. "Aaron son of Raja Bahadur is dead." However, none of them believed me. Actually, some of them wrote. "God never dies...we have already built his shrine, in our town." On other hand  those who believed in what I told them, said." We started raising fund to build him a shrine."  Then we stopped writing to each other, anymore.

Now, then  I had to go back home- and start  my class again.I had sworn,  under God -witnessed by Jeanette,  to be well equipped for the next journey.Then I walked away, and mixed Aaron's secrets with mine, struggling  to work out what he had scratched on the end of my tome.

I kept in contact with the peoples in Al,Merjan,  Ferdews Tavern and the National  Museum, until the news of my three Refuges shocked the whole country:My mentor in the museum faced the excision  squad for having refused to replace a copy of David's sculpture with the  original one. Nahoom died during the next winter from a heart attack when all his real estates were confiscated  during the last campaign of the Jewish property seizures . The hag was convicted for having committed a capital crime.

 Everyone was certain  the new policy  was only a trick to confiscate their properties. Nevertheless,
it turned out that our lady  was the wealthier woman  in the city.She was executed  two years later. Fortunately, she had her daughters escape the country-  even before her case started. Her five daughters married in Paris  to peoples unknown to me, except  Narsis  who married Jeanette.

Today after all those years, I came to India with a thousand merchants from  around the world. No one  was  certain if was  a ritual meeting or a secret  whim in the heads of the richest men in the wold to norm the threat they might have on each other, and renew their royalty to the Destiny Script-ers  who in the views of some enlightened figures were representative of the new generation of  Illuminati.   

 I had my plan to find at least one of Aaron's shrines to fulfill my old task. We were waiting for  the legendary trade  master , Raja. Balaram in Lord Krishna Hotel in the  capital city, New Delhi.We were looking for jewelries and dear stones and trying our best to get in touch with the  last theories on the trade and  methods of creation   new generations of precious stones. We waited in the light of  the national chandeliers and spicy mood of everyone..The time passed by similar to all the great nights I had throughout my magical  trade, started from London, then New York, Paris,Berlin ,Geneva,  Rome, Shanghai ...I knew every city had to show the best of its symbols, I thought, to enter this club, Delhi had to show one of its youngest gods.

We waited and talked until  in a solemn walk, stately a black figure in a maroon manta  slipped through the crowd, Actually, when he walked, everyone's heart startled and came to a halt. The man kept casting  piercing  glances at the guests one after the other . I understood, he was looking for someone, in particular,  through the hazy space with two deep growing eyes. I read his face, and for my surprise he was not a man of the trade either."Good Heaven," I murmured." I am not talking about India ...I am talking about Balaram. Gandhi has to die."
"Great Balaram, " a welcome voice ran through the hall.
"He is ...Hee is."
"Lord of iron and stones."

The party went on, under the talented organizers  who orchestrated the arts of the chefs, entertainers, maids, dancer and best singers of the country. Every one had a brilliant night. We listened to the sweetest  songs of India, while  Balaram kept meeting  everyone individually. I was the last one to meet, however, since no commercial deal was made yet , it did not matter who he met first.
He addressed his speech as a great new member in the club.
"We understand this conclave is for the benefits of the poor people around the world."
 "Evil minds are weaker to undermine Sri Krishna's wills."
"I personally show the weakness is not the element of good."
"I understand. If there is a need to war we fund that  war; that is what we are honored with; I mean the possession."

All those quotations were officially admired .But I learnt from Nahoom and twenty years -experience in my trade, not to show my fire towards the new members, until checked the real gut of the ancientest members. Nevertheless, they, at the same night, defined the Symphony Overture , precisely as a premature solution of the crucial crises.

Certainly, the war was what they meant by the symphony. We agreed, and drunk, and stuck in the tricks of the chattering lords.The notable figures showed the world would work in the current decade, if some major issue posed a threat on the mainstream politics.
" Though this time not  anymore- dimly,  things  are looking,  the consequences are totally obscure,"said Mr. Jefferson the honer of the largest corporation of human being parts -bank.
"The goods exchanges occur regardless," said Mr. Kunpeng, the owner of  a giant corporation of export and import  to China.
 " While someone faces a disaster the others expanding their enterprise,"said Mr. Hamasaki                "For God's sake stop the piracy and  patent infringe," said Mr.  Aeschelman               
"Agree."said Mr. Beaumont.
"Agree." said Mr Donati.
" Unnecessary tasks mean you undermine your plans, "said Mr. Cox.
We were absolutely minor figures in the conclave , had not had opportunity to talk, but gave our vote to the ones who were closer to the moderate parties.

By now everyone was tired or even exhausted, and started living, and going back to his suite where more wine and maids were waiting for him. I intended to stay there a bit longer, however,  the strange man invited me to drink in the grand hall. We chattered and tested  stones and jewelries till midnight, when suddenly he grabbed my hand." Ishmael, pardon me for my straightness, " said he."If asked you about the human pain."...
I startled ,probably , my face was so flashed that he changed his drive immediately.
"What goods do you have, sir?’said he.
"Doubtless, the others had better goods, sir,"  said I.
He did not hesitate to confess.
"I prefer yours," said he.
" I have no goods, sir," said I.
"Then what are you buying , Ishmael?"

I could not find an appropriator answer, until suddenly Aaron's voice, echoed in my head.
"Ishmael, free yourself."....
"Thou might be the one, sir,"  said I humbly.
"The One!" said he ..
A bit surprised, he  grunted. " You are not disguised, are you?"
"No,Sir. Actually, I am so normal that I feel sorry for myself," said I.
"It is not always bad to travel in disguise. Lord Krishna lives in disguise."
It was my turn, I thought it was my turn.
"Do you believe in him, sir," I said.
"We meant to be enemies, sir," said he.
" Then if you are so close,  watch me, sir," said I.
"I am ready, Ishmael."
It  was then when it came  to my head to show him Aaron's Code...and started drawing brilliantly, the whole verse,in the original ancient script in front of him on a price of paper.

In shock the giant man was surrendered to the pace of the emerging letters  under my hand, paying all possible tributes to the words  of his rival , hailing and praising my skills. I was not listening to his  whisper and groans  until he bellowed " O' Lord...O' Lord."
I have reached the god's limit.
"You, can' can't," said he.
He was exhausted .
"Listen. Stop... stop," said he.

 I did not, anyway, until he snatched the paper and started reading.
“To guard virtues, destroy evilness, and maintaining the law, I ascend down era
after era, to this Earth...Sri Krishna, the god,”  said he.
"You did not read the rest, sir," said I.
"It is not for mortals. It is dangerous," yelled he.
"Why, sir?" I snapped.
"To keep the  clear distances between Truth and Untruth...
Good and Evil... esetra...esetra ," said he.
" The gods' tongue is exhaustive for mortals, sir." said he.
"Teach me, enlighten me, Lord,"said I.
"You are in the wrong place," said he.
"I am a random person, sir."
"Ishmael , I am to him as Satan is to God," said he.
" Lord Baralam! inferrably he is closer to Him than us."
"You are free; this premises is one thousand and one rooms, but no one knows where room Number One is...Have a look through the window," said he and touched my hand, again.
 Doubtless,  I thought, it is specified for the Destiny Scripters.
"Don't be so sure," said he.

He looked weightless. I tried to hold his hand,  the brilliant one  was vanishing. Desperately, tried  to grasp him  firmly, but noting other than light was in my grip. Struck by horror. I ran to the hall way ...wandered there  and bellowed. "The man has gone...the man has gone."
No one looked surprised. I looked into their faces; they were local citizen.
"Don't worry, sir. He comes and goes,"  said one of the maids who had served us for the dinner.            I realized soon, she thought I was drunk.
"Would you like, sir, to have a rest  at your place."
I was wrecked, however, thankfully, followed her to my suite.
"I am sorry to take you this way, sir," said she, for not having used the lift.
"Anything wrong?" I said.
"No, is a sort of an overcrowded," said she.
In the middle of stairs I halted and asked her.
 "Where is the room number one."
 The maid startled and snapped.
"Beg  you pardon." said she.
"I said where is the room number one."...
 "There is no such a room, sir."
It has to be somewhere, I thought  with myself and followed her until she delivered me to my my suite's maids.
My suite.

"You were  Sri Krishna, " I said and let the girls dealing with my clothes, not my body.And a bit latter  I preferred to have them siting on the seats outside the suite.
The time dragged by slowly slowly."You were  Sri Krishna," I said again. Everything was silent until a thrilling shriek hit my my head."It took you all those years to say that!"
It was, I thought, it was the  echo of his growl
‘You are Sri Krishna, ain't you?" I screamed.
The girls rushed in screaming."Bliss you, sir ...Bless you, sir."....
"It is fine is fine," I yelled, and dismissed them.

And, then like the remain of the last demigod stood  with all my muscles, veins and bones exposed to air, as if was performing the self autopsy -looking through the veranda, above the stately crowned arches under the dome with all my unwritten  memories and deeds, watching the falling violet lights, and listening to the lords of music, scholars of dance and triumph of truth. Everything was mixed with the magical vapor in the space .I was frozen, gazing with two un-glittering black pearls The pearls were my eyes. falling  deeply into the heart of the country, heart of India.

The End


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