Character: Iskender

I read and reflect. These two activities can make life in prison a stepping stone to hell or heaven, depending on what you think of.

Zishan wakes me up at dawn to meditate. Today I get up without grumbling. We sit cross-legged on the floor opposite each other. Zishan, as usual, shines. I wonder where he recharges his batteries.
- Clean the mind, he says, as usual. Dirty air is bad for the city. Dirty mind is bad for a person.

The night after the crime lasts forever. You Wake up, feeling that in the brain you burn the red alarming light. You're trying not to pay attention to her. While there is hope, albeit very weak, that's all you had. You cling to that hope, as a man, plucked off a cliff, clinging to a blade of grass. Pass minutes. Watch. And then to reach you. You know that long pulled a blade of grass from the root, and then fly into the abyss, clutching it in his hands. Fly to split your head open on the sharp stones of reality.

- The universe, you say? - I ask. - What is the universe, you know? Is anger, hatred, cruelty... In this universe, people are killing each other.
"Yeah", nods Zishan and immersed in a reverie, as if hearing about all this for the first time. He closes his eyes, and I even think that he is going to take a NAP. But he says with his eyes closed, and a voice cheerfully: - Let's look at nature. Animal to kill another animal. Big insects eat small. The wolf eats the sheep. A lot of blood, a lot. But the animal and to protect each other. Fish swim in flocks. Birds also.
- Because in a world of too many predators. If you're surrounded by their own kind, you have a better chance to survive.
We all need to take care of each other, utters Zishan.
<...>
- In nature there is harmony, ' he says, carefully pronouncing a difficult word. - There is harmony within you - that is the question.
<...>
- If you like, - I nod. - Even in nature there is harmony. The balance between good and evil and all that. What conclusion follows from this? Everyone can do all that in my head vzbredet. It's your fucking balance is still impossible to violate.
- No, no, not so. You cannot do what you want. To do only what God want. I consist of different substances. You too. Zishan consist of water. And you? Fire, it seems that way. Yes, of course, fire. Always to fight, to regret. The language is sharp as an arrow. You say, the universe is a wild jungle. In this jungle I smash your garden.
- What kind of shit garden do you say?
- Dear friend, - says Zishan like begins to read the letter. - Anger is a tiger. You look at tiger and think: what big animal. It will be mine. But no one can tame the tiger. All he eats.
- Leave poor tiger alone. The anger we learned from them. The anger we learn from other people. They succeed in hatred like that no wild animals for them is not stealing.
- If you love only yourself, it's like a bird of prey - taldychit Zishan, passing my words on deaf ears. - Grif. Vulture. He said fly with me, and become strong. But he's lying. If you love only yourself, you're weak. If you love others, you're strong.

"Okay," I nod and decide to go to the other side. - They say you're born in the world. But some kind of religion do you have?
My religion is love.
For the first time about the such hear - round I eyes.
He looks at me with genuine bewilderment:
Every to hear what to want. The world is full of sounds we don't want to hear.
- But you have to belong to some faith. Who are you Buddhist, Muslim, Christian?
- Ay-ay-ay - frowns he's like I stepped on his foot. - You ask what I got? - He says, tapping his chest. - In man is the universe.
And that person is you?
This person will help you, ' he repeats after me, clicking on the last word.

We again left alone. Zishan stares at me like I was a great miracle.
Why is he so angry at you? - he asks.
- Because he's a rat who pretends to be a man.
Zeshan laugh, like it's the best joke he had ever heard in my life.
- People "a rat," he repeats. - Great!
He sinks into a reverie, and after speaks:
- Has to be fish-man, bird-man, snake man, elephant man. In this world, little human people.

He stares at me, as if deciding how best to break the news.
- From the day the police came to my house, I think, think... Why? What is all this? Nothing happen just like that. God always has a purpose - right? I ask, what is the goal, but no answer. Now to understand.
- What are you talking about?
- I understand why God sent me here. In prison. Early not know be offended. Now to meet you all understand. Won't be sad.

He again begins to drivel.
- I come to you, ' he says. - I don't do early. To live without benefits. God to bring, God don't like lazy. We all have to work. A lot of work.
And how are we supposed to work?
- Mystics say...
- Who?
- Mysticism. Mystic - a person who to be able to look inside. In the heart. He know all people are connected. All people are similar. Different only on the outside. Skin, clothes, passport. It's all outside. And the heart equally. Always. Everywhere.

Why would I kill myself? Soon I will be released.
Then the officer Maclauglin privste, bends over the Desk and drilling me with her eyes, says a smart thing, what I from it did not expect:
- Alex, you know that you will never be released. From prison you can go out, Yes. But even when you walk the streets, you will remain a prisoner of the crime committed.

Words is causing problems, so she thought. Because of the words people don't understand each other. So she was afraid of people who can cleverly play with words: journalists, writers, lawyers. Mom loved songs and prayers, because there are words and if you have the meaning secondary.

Mom did everything she could to protect me from the attacks of evil spirits. But she forgot that evil spirits had nested inside of me. It is impossible to protect people from enemies he carries within himself.