The Witty Wish

The tea towel is still in his hands, when before him the famous genie appears in all his dazzling splendor: Indian, severe, huge.

Grateful for being released, as it is appropriate, he grants to his savior one wish.

Love is the best in life, but it is not something to conquer with the wishes of genies, this method is vulgar and sad. Love has to be obtained with courtship and poetry. Thinks, then says, the clandestine liberator.

The genie mimics a slight sign of assent, with an almost imperceptible hint of admiration.

Happiness? And what would that be exactly? An inhuman condition, with the risk of ending up in a state of slight dementia, or stupidity! The village idiots are happy!

Superpowers? It is like asking to die! Like any other profound metamorphosis. Does it make sense to get away so much from what one is? It is not the same as asking to be deceased? Me… like a “fish” or an “Eagle”, bah!

The genie takes “the measures” of his liberator: he is modest, this beggar, but not devoid of talent.

Immortality? It is not for us! What a tedium to live forever! Speculates the sharp wretch, rubbing his chin.

To recover a beloved one who we realized we miss so much… as usual, only after he his gone?! But until then… you and he were fighting all day… no, no! It is better to have a beautiful memory, rather than an annoying day by day. And furthermore! Who gets resurrected, the only “joy” he obtains is to die twice, and to die once is more than enough! Nice gift, indeed! Life has its rhythms, better not to touch anything!

He is wise too, the lousy bastard! Thinks the Punjabi genie without saying it and smiling, while peering at the peasant.

Infused knowledge? Intelligence? For what? To get to be despised by all conceited idiots on the planet, even though we know more about everything than them? Who is more powerful than you does not admit to be inferior in anything! And moreover, that would be to admit that right now I am just poor, ignorant, and a fool. I have dignity! I am ok the way I am! I already have trouble tolerating people being like this. Knowledge is suffering! Being smarter, I’d just mess up my own life even more.

Health? Yes! Not bad! Of course, but why should you settle to drag out life always in great shape, yes, but for a uncertain and perhaps miserable future, like the present? It would be also a mockery! Poor, but in perfect health! Hungry, yes, but with toned muscles!

Hopefully he will hurry up! The genie thinks, now impatient.

All that remains is the good old wealth! It is decided! Is pleases all things! It makes you look wiser and smarter than you are, it makes you very loved, especially by women, it gives you prestige, consolation, and puts you in a state as close as possible to happiness, without making you lobotomized and… in its modesty… it can buy that little health that science can provide.

At the early hour! Thinks the genie with a fake grin.

But since I am as curious as well as greedy man, I can say, of disordered culture and readings, I do not want money in the bank, it would be too simple, my dear and generous genie for whom everything is possible! I want to have instead all the lost and valuable objects of human history, higher than the current one thousand US dollars, and under the four hundred pounds of weight.

And so, suddenly, suddenly there it is, a big mountain of stuff that fills the entire place, sounding as a gold cascade of trills and ringing: the jewelry of Titanic, it is clear, they are famous, fine swords, gold coins, bullions, even crowns, jewels of every ages, beautiful and colorful stones, strange paraphernalia, never seen before things, wonders of all kind, mirabilia…

Here now there is stuff to continue studying for centuries! Maybe I overdid it…! Thinks and says the “miserable savior” a bit confused, but basically happy with his choice and excited.

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