In Arabian Nights Read Online Free PDF

first they pinch a little, but you like the way they look, so you
carry on. The longer you have them, the more comfortable they
become. Until one day without realizing it you reach a glorious
plateau. Wearing those shoes is like wearing no shoes at all. The
more scuffed they get, the more you love them and the more you
can't imagine life without them.
    Our lives at Casablanca went through the same cycle. At first,
the discomforts of the house, the trouble with the jinns, the
headless cats we found in the garden, and the slaughter of
exorcism, all took a toll. I used to think Rachana might walk out.
She didn't appreciate the hardship in the same way that it
appealed to me. But the months of anxiety brought us closer
together. We were united in a desire for a new life. There was
something so intoxicating about the Caliph's House that I never
imagined giving up.
    Now, after so many months, the idea of living anywhere else
seems outrageous. I am at ease. I am content. But I am still
confused. Most of all I am confused by Moroccan society.
    On the surface, life seems quite understandable, a blend of
culture and tradition. My family is from the East and I have
grown up in the West. The equation helps me to decipher the
riddles of the Arab world. Yet there is still so much to understand,
like the business with the sieve.
    During the summer Zohra, our maid, overheard me complaining
how I am eaten alive by salesmen as I walk through
Casablanca's vegetable market. Like most Moroccan women she
is an expert on life and in the art of controlling men. And she is
always ready to advise.
    'Tsk! Tsk! Tsk!' she snapped. 'Of course the salesmen trouble
you. It's because they think you are a tourist.'
    'But there aren't any tourists in Casablanca.'
    'Well, they don't know that!'
    'So what am I supposed to do?'
    Zohra motioned something with her hands. It was round,
about the size of a dinner plate.
    'You have to carry a sieve.'
    'What?'
    'No tourist would ever be carrying a sieve,' she said.
     
    The Friday after I had met Ottoman at Hicham's grave, I
strolled down to Café Mabrook for a little coffee and conversation.
Dr Mehdi wasn't yet in his place, but his great friend
Hakim was sitting at my usual table. He greeted me and grinned
as I took my seat. Hakim the ancient plumber was one of the
most sensitive men one would ever be likely to meet. He had a
way of making you feel needed when he spoke, as if the future
of the world depended on you. He was Dr Mehdi's best friend,
but was happiest of all when the surgeon wasn't there. It meant
he could talk about his favourite subject. Hakim had a fascination
for black magic, a subject of which Dr Mehdi vehemently
disapproved.
    On the first occasion we met, he explained under his breath
how he had been born a girl, how his gender had been altered by
a sorceress from the Middle Atlas.
    'When was that?' I asked.
    The plumber pulled a tap from his pocket and used it to
scratch the top of his head.
    'Long ago,' he said.
    'When?'
    'When you were a glint in your mother's eye.'
    Since we were alone, I asked him about the chalk writing the
guardians had found scrawled over our front door.
    Hakim asked for a second cup of coffee. Then he screwed up
his face until his eyes were no more than slits. A thumbless hand
slammed down the coffee and he said, 'It sounds as if there's a
jinn.'
    'That's quite impossible,' I replied. 'You see, we did have jinns
but we held an exorcism and slaughtered a goat. The exorcists
drenched every room in blood and in milk. They certified it
squeaky clean.'
    'When did the exorcism take place?'
    'Six months ago.'
    Hakim screwed up his face again.
    'You will have to do it all again,' he said.
    I thought of the upheaval the exorcists had caused. They
had wrecked the house and terrified us all in a kind of
Moroccan rendition of Ghostbusters . Cleaning up after
them had taken weeks and Rachana was still far from forgiving
me.
    'Another exorcism is out of the question,' I said