The World According to Abufares of Tartous

At 7:00AM, 12 hours after leaving Tartous, I made it to a modern looking hotel on top of a hill. Blurry eyed, I stood on a terrace and took a long look at the panoramic view of the Golden Horn laid down for my eyes only. Istanbul was yawning but already awake drinking a cup of Turkish coffee. The smell of spices and cardamon filled my airways with euphoric anesthesia. The enchanting minarets, stilettos piercing the heavens, awakened a docile spirituality I had previously tamed. My mind cried for sleep. My heart begged for a walk. But for a man like me, who doesn't give much thought to thinking, the heart always wins. Over the years, I have followed with fascination travelers’ accounts of distant cities and faraway places. Istanbul remained uncharted territory although Ataturk airport has served as a transit point for my out of range expeditions on many occasions. A seafarer who has sailed the seven seas and beyond often talked about this magical city as if he were describing

Under normal circumstances I am immune to the cruelty of my environment. I have retreated to a cave in space and time where I found a jot of privacy and a pinch of independence. I defied oppression by evading confrontation and scouted a solitary rock in this damned place where I was certain I’ll get enough fish for dinner tonight. The shimmering lights of thousands of dying suns held me captive. I eavesdropped on the murmurs of crashing waves, hesitating then returning to my hole in the ground dreaming of taking a plunge one of these days. Just as long as no one fucked with my fragile bubble I managed to be almost pleasant. If attacked, however, I lashed back with hardy ridicule and gallant courage. I am a believer in not believing and I will defend my thought with claw and tooth after pen and argot, regardless of what had come to pass or of what is yet to be. As if this is enough! I could go on living for myself till a day comes when I look into the mirror and spit at my reflec