A peculiar superstitious woman used to meet with me in a cozy Italian coffee shop three years ago. She was tall and beautiful with a plump body of a belly dancer. Especially when she in the very first day intersected her long legs to let her full white hips to look at my dark black eyes and hook all my attentions. I don’t remember her name and more details about her appearance but I do remember that she was too hyper for a woman at that age. And which at that time was a decade more than mine. She wasn’t knowledgeable but I was mesmerized by odd word that came out from her big mouth. Words are so atheist, so brave, and so rude. She was anti everything, the most atheist woman I ever seen. As a Christian she hated God, Jesus, and church and had no respect for all other religion. She said to me “All of them are bull shhhhhhhhh!”

“By the way what’s yours?”

“I’m a Kurd” I said

“A Kurd! What the hell is that” She said.

“It’s a big nation in the Middle East” I said.

“Pphhhh! The Middle East!” She Said.

She didn’t have any information what the Middle East was?

“Do you mean the Middle Age where women weren’t happy?” She said.

“Please, don’t mix a time era with a geographical place; the Middle East is a place on the map while the Middle Age is belongs to history” I Said.

“Do you go to church?” She said.

“No! I’m a Muslim” I said.

“With the Kurd are they similar?” She Said.

“No! The first one gives me headache on the way traveling   home, but the second the second one is a problem when I fly back to my second home.”

“Are you a wanted person!?” She said.

“No! No! I’m an ordinary person, a very peaceful one, never have a criminal record” I said.

“I love traveling and geography since I was a kid. Especially the day when my dad brought for me a colorful shape of the glob from Greece” I said.

“My dad was like the protagonist of the STONE DRAFT by the Portuguese novelist Saramago who loved traveling by car. But unfortunately before doing his dream journey a cross the Europe, he died in a car accident.” I continued while tears started to rush to my eyes.

    I don’t know why I mentioned the word of gypsy to that woman. When all of sudden our topics changed one hundred and eighty degrees counterclockwise. She was so overwhelmed with the word of gypsy. A flush of enlightenment covered her face. She tried to hug me but with a deep sight kicked back to her chair and with a great happiness she told if I was a gypsy.

   She didn’t care too much about what I had said before of being a KM. For her unlike some people who have suspension in diversities and they admire their race profoundly. It wasn’t matter for her if my KM stands for a Kurdish-Muslim or Kurdish-Marxist. Actually, she was (KM) s of distances away.

“Go read The Indigo Child; they may have in the Indigo bookstore.” She said.

“The Chapters is a place where I go.” I replied.

“Well, they too may have this book.” She said.

And then she told me in whole of her life she had read only one book called The Indigo Child.

    I never went to check for that in any cities’ bookstores. Because the days and weeks that were followed, that woman was talking about very strange things like human being is created by alliances, human is a reptile and reptiles are humans, and so on.

    In the beginning she seemed to me that her deepness was so shallow and her shallowness was so deep. However, when she disappeared for last time I would describe her as a piece of a happy anarchist feminist.

    Since my adolescent time I’ve been fascinated by the deepness of the words and their hidden meanings. Still I have no clues for many of them.

That day when she was trying to leave the coffee shop, she threw a direct question to my face as she had already read my mind and my great interest in playing with words, opening clues, and solving puzzles.

“Do you know where does the word of SANTA come from?” She said while she was leaving the coffee shop juggling with her continuous bye byes.

What an easy question, I spoke for myself.

“Saint!” is the answer I told myself.

   Before I see her again at the same table in the same coffee shop, I was strongly armed with a creative anecdote and well prepared to answer the question of that very day.

She asked for a cappuccino with a cloud of white foams and I had my tall Americano retelling my story.

“Once upon the time, there was an overweight generous woman who lived alone in a small hut in the mountain. She was hiding from savage male creatures who abused many women and children at that time. She was so frightened from the death; therefore, one day she dressed a red robe which was made from the lamb’s fur and went to the peak of the mountain. There she saw an arc of large rainbow; she jumped over it and suddenly she became an old plump white bearded man. He laughed astonishingly and ran back to his birth place to save little children. This man called himself SANTA.” I narrated my story.

“Pphhhhhhhhh!A generous granny.” She guffawed.

Then she grabbed a piece of paper and asked me for a pen like knowing that I’m the person who always carries a pen.

“Well, the answer is so easy; you just need to transfer the noise from the tummy of SANTA down to his ankle. I mean move this N; she put her long artificial nail on the heart of the diagonal part of the letter N and then she draw an arc over the letters T&A just like a thin line of a sad mouth.

   Then she wrote something like a mathematical formula. SANTA = SATAN

I shivered with a cold halo inside me and hallucinated with seeing a grey witches beneath that woman’s pure skin. But I admired her bravery. She didn’t spoke more when afterwards she stood up like a wild female horse and ran out hastily.

The next time when I saw her wearing a Hawaiian cloth with a red a pink flower on her hair, she talked more elegant than before. She talked about her intelligent son and daughter.

“My children are both indigo children” She said.

“Do you have any children?” She asked me.

She didn’t wait for my respond.

“If you got one he/she will be indigo child” She said.

    She giggled and warned me of a dilemma if I were not going to read her favored book The Indigo Child.

I never went to any book stores to check if they have this book or not. She seemed to me like the strange witches in The Arabian Nights who hide a mysterious and deadly conspiracy under her beauty. On the other hand, I was like a fool merchant who left everything behind in order to earn some gold in a foreign over seas land.

“Do you know what does the meaning of word?” She said.

And then she wrote down this word LIVE on a piece of napkin. I thought about for a few minutes, not like what I had done with word of SANTA or SATAN in another way.

“You don’t know” She said.

“O.K I give the clue.” “Just reverse the word!” She continued.

   I couldn’t imagine reversing the word in my mind. Fore I grabbed my pen in that pocket which often located in close to the heart when I wear my different shirts. I started to write the reversed word down, while she was like sitting on fire monitoring my writing with a passion.

LIVE=EVIL! That was what I came out with.

“Do Same with GOD.” She smiled.

GOD = ………?

   I didn’t write down this because reversing a word with the three letters was much easier than with a word with four. I confused.

  She wiped the cappuccino’s foam from her full lips with a haste move of double fingers. And the she wrote down the name of ADAM and EVE on a white clean napkin like starting a new game. She had obviously noticed the paleness of my face after facing the result of the word GOD. She was a destroyer.

ADAM =  MAD no. A.

EVE = EVE

She explained her writing. 

“At the end of life everything will be belong to EVE because her name doesn’t change if reversed. You can read it in the all directions” She said to me while her eyes wide open.

“What you are saying is so simple is not something philosophical” I told her abruptly and before her thoughts hallucinate me again.

“Look I also know some words” I said and grabbed a new napkin to write the followings on it.

I = I

YOU = OUY “Confusion!” I told her.

NEWS = North, East, West, and South.

PEPSI = Pay Even a Penny to Save Israel.

NAN = NAN “Which is bread in the Indo – European languages and so essential” I told her solemnly.

And then I added one thing more to my list.

MARX = X RAM

    Additional to show something that a person could easily reversed and get an acceptable meaning with help of computer technology.

Afterwards to cool the tension down I stated to tell a joke. Which was went back to eighties when two Kurdish Marxist organizations actively launching their operations against the Bathist regime of Iraq and the Islamic regime of Iran.

   “A pseudo mullah had a few young pupils. One day while he was spying on his pupil to see what they were doing in his absence. Through the window, he saw them inside a large cloud of smoke. He entered the teaching room angrily and grabbed a package of L&M cigarette from one of the boys’ hand. And then he cried “Do you know what are you smoking now is belongs to infidels” He pointed at the L&M and said “This two damn letters stand for Linen & Marx, the infidels couple” A couple days after this time his pupil were spying on him and they all shocked when they saw him smoking the same L&M package. So they went slowly close to him and said to him (Oh! Dear Sir, you are smoking the same atheist cigarette that’s belong to the shameless couple Lenin & Marx” 

The mullah’s face became red while thinking to prepare a reasonable answer. Moreover, quickly and nervy talked to the protesting pupil. “This package is not yours and the L&M on my package is totally different than what I mentioned to before. This one doesn’t mean the atheist couple Lenin & Marx. The L&M on my package stands for (LA ILLAHA ILA ALLAH; MUHAMMAD RASUL’LLAH.)

   Listening to that unknown word made the woman calm but astray. So when I clarified the meaning my jock, she laughed but not defeated.

 “Don’t confuse my logic in life, words are easy to manipulate” I said.

“O.K I agree with you, but for better society we have to start all over from the roots” She replied.

“Therefore I encourage you to read The Indigo Child, so in future you’ll be able to rise you children by it’s a perfect standard” She said and prepared to leave.

Year after I would never found any interest to check for that book. Till last week when I noticed the word of Indigo on a local magazine’s front page. And as long as I was sitting in the Chapter’s book store having a hot Americano in the Starbucks, I saw the time perfect to look at that book.

Without my coffee I went close to one of computer that helps costumers to find their favorite books. I wrote down in the title’s space The Indio Child. The computer’s was so quick and none anticipated. “There is no match to this title.” The computer told me.

   I went back to my seat in the Starbucks coffee shop, and started to write something about that lady who gave the name of a book that doesn’t exist. However, that wasn’t my last search for that book. Because the next day I would get a great help from the internet where I found several books advertised for sale and thousands of websites which were related to the Indigos.

Here I chose these words fore my readers:

As a summary, here are the ten attributes that best describe this new kind of child, the Indigo Child (named by those who predicted it).

	They come into the world with a feeling of royalty (and often act like it)
	They have a feeling of "deserving to be here," and are surprised when others don't share that.
	Self-worth is not a big issue. They often tell the parents "who they are."
	They have difficulty with absolute authority (authority without explanation or choice).
	They simply will not do certain things; for example, waiting in line is difficult for them.
	They get frustrated with systems that are ritually oriented and don't require creative thought.
	They often see better ways of doing things, both at home and in school, which makes them seem like "system busters" (nonconforming to any system).
	They seem antisocial unless they are with their own kind. If there are no others of like consciousness around them, they often turn inward, feeling like no other human understands them. School is often extremely difficult for them socially.
	They will not respond to "guilt" discipline ("Wait till your father gets home and finds out what you did").
	They are not shy in letting you know what they need.

I’ve always believed that words are more power full than what they show us in their absolute silent. And often peoples’ names made form more than one word. So that they carry a lot of elusive things unknown, draw the early line of human’s fate and tell something about their destinies. Since playing with words always gave a great satisfaction. Here is my example for the conclusion.     SADDAM is an Arabic word that means the striker. And of course he was like that during several decades in power. He was a perfect match to his name. But when his giant bronze statue in the Firdous square fell down and broke in the middle. His name broke also showing him the last reality and meaning of his name and his life. So let us read his six letters name in that way; read the first three letters from left to right and you will get SAD. And then read the last three letters of his name from right to left; you well get

MAD.SADDAM = SAD and MAD

 He wasn’t The Indigo Child!