Arabian nights

The only revelation after this episode was a vague idea of how some people manage to die suffocated in their beds. Besides, the idea of painting one of his walls with a scene from Arabian Nights seemed so hard to achieve. The rest of his problems - the elephant in the room, hit him like a tonne of bricks.

He tried to lift his spirits, sure there are bigger problems in the world than taking more from family money. It's not like he had to ask permission or anything, but it was a constant reminder of what a complete loser he was.

He could easily imagine the phone call following if he transferred money even for a chocolate bar.

-Hello Ali! Everything OK?

-Yes mother, everything OK! How are you?

-Yeah, I'm fine! How about you? Are you sure everything is OK?

-Of course I'm sure, why do you insist?

-I am just worried about you. You're always going to be my little baby and is my job to take care of you until I am dead.

-I am just a bit behind with some payments, that's why I transferred some money from that account. I will get a job soon, so I don't have to bother you. Don't worry!

-Ali, don't be silly, take as much as you need. Your father and I set up that account so you can take money whenever you need. You don't have to explain, just focus on your art.

Eventually, Ali kicked the pile of unopened letters bearing bad news under the bed and made himself a tea. Surely creditors cannot be as bad as that phone call. He searched his secret box, hidden in his top drawer and rolled a cigarette to go with the tea.

Smoking war his oldest nemesis. During his life he tried different addictive liquids, dusts, and weeds, but tobacco remained his companion over the years, while other vices proved to be mostly contextual in his troubled life.

Ali remembered his first cigarette. He was at home, about 12 years old, stole one of his father’s cigarettes and smoked it alone, in the garden. There, an improvised wooden fort gave him the cover to do it right under his parent’s eyes, without them even noticing. Later in life, Ali took this habit seriously and stayed loyal to tobacco over the years, with some small breaks.

After half the cigarette and most of the tea, Ali decided to give up feeling sorry for himself. He got dressed, took a bottle of cold water and his phone with headphones to listen his favourite mantra, Surya Namaskar.

-Good afternoon, my friend, said Ali smiling to one of his roommates before putting his headphones on. The roommate looked at him confused, since smiling was not something he ever remembered to see on Ali’s face and mumbled something back, but Ali was already outside.

With the repetitive song pouring slowly into his ears, Ali headed to a wooded area close to the house he was living. The smell that lives shortly only in a forest after the rain, reminded him of the area where he grew up, but he tried to focus on not thinking of anything. He heard that the point of meditation was precisely that, to cast thoughts away.

Ali took another deep breath of fresh air and let himself guided by the song’s lyrics, which he repeated like a parrot, having only a vague idea regarding the meaning of the mantra. A few steps latter, he noticed a squirrel jumping from one branch to another, with total disregard of gravity. A hidden bird was filling the area with a song that reminded him of a crying baby. “How is one supposed to think of nothing, surrounded by such distractions? Now I regret not bringing the rest of that cigarette with me…”, said to himself, and played the mantra again.

Half an hour later, Ali realised he was already in front of his house, right when the mantra finished. He typed “m” in his contact list and called the first entry that appeared on his screen.

-Ali, is such a nice surprise! a familiar voice said from million miles away.

-I missed you, mother, said Ali.