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Wednesday, July 26, 2017



    His hands shook with excitement as the stooped man opened the rectangular box. Yes, there were the documents he had expected and hoped to find! For well over 30 years, he had looked for verifiable sources about the library of al-Sīmāwī, a 13th century expert on alchemy and magic. But in vain. The old man’s dogged determination had led him to Cairo, to Istanbul, to the Vatican, trying to sleuth an ancient ‘paper’ trail.
    He had painstakingly established that while al-‘Irāqī’s 13th-century autograph manuscript was now lost, one source of his illustrations was recognised: the Book of Images. It has been traditionally attributed to the 4th-century Egyptian alchemist Zosimos of Panopolis and preserved in a copy made in Egypt in 1270! And today, finally, he had been allowed access to the vaults of the British Museum where a kindly academic had led him unerringly to this section of treasures.
    The old man examined the contents of the box carefully, his heart racing. There was the familiar drawing of three men with their hands raised as if in surrender! There was no doubt any more – this indeed was the source for the drawing he had found in the book written centuries later!
    A lifetime quest had just been fulfilled. Slowly, the old man looked all around him. Thousands of boxes in the vaults held the past in sacred trust – waiting for mankind to rediscover what had gone before. Zosimos of Panapolis and al-Sīmāwī smiled, as it were, from their places in the Universe. The old man whispered to The Book of Images, “Without this place, I would never have found you!”

#VeryShortStories

#VeryShortStories

"I won't go, I won't!" The message was clear. Emphatically so. The old woman had been as cantankerous at 74 as she had been at 27 ... when she turned down her fifth suitor and decided to remain 'a spinster'! For the remainder of her working life, she was Head Mistress at a posh Girls School, and there were hundreds of students who remembered her sharp tongue and scathing wit. But she had also been their true guardian at school, and she had lavished upon her wards care and nurturing which were of her own brand and fashion!
So, her refusal to leave her spacious flat and go into a Home for the Aged was not at all surprising to the reluctant youngsters of her own family: they had anticipated stiff resistance, clenched fists, and a tongue-lashing.
Finally, Time achieved what no-one else could : a stroke left her so incapacitated that the family were able to cart her off to the Home of their choice with no remonstrations from her, not even a whimper! She had been unconscious at the time!
And now ... Time had scored again. The formidable old lady lay in her casket, packed and ready, it seemed, for the Final Dispatch!
The mourners gathered in the small church spoke morosely of their memories ... video cameras recorded the event for the local news and for personal You-Tube channels. Finally, it was all over!  It was time to hoist the casket and get to the cemetary.
Four able-bodied young volunteers put their shoulders to the task, helped not all by two infirm cousins of the deceased who were along 'to represent the family!'
As they lifted the wooden box, they froze! 
A loud thudding started up from within! Clear! Emphatic!

Saturday, July 1, 2017

#VeryShortStories

      The master peered through the glass at his creation. It had started to rise just a little bit, and he paced up and down in front of his oven; in a rhythm his crew recognised well – he was indeed nervous when he walked four paces to the right and five paces to the left! They all busied themselves with tasks that would keep them in other parts of the large hot kitchen – who had the foolhardiness to cross him on a day like this?
       Forty minutes after he had slid it in, he slid the creation out! Plated it and scrutinised it from the top. His face revealed nothing. For long minutes he was motionless. More than a few eyes looked at him curiously, as his staff busied themselves as before, but a little closer now.
The busy kitchen fell slowly silent.
The master narrowed his eyes as he gazed lovingly upon his creation. Several hours later, he lifted it ceremoniously and took it into the dining room, where at the best table waited his lady love, with roses, champagne, ready for her birthday-celebration-cum-proposal meal!
Twenty minutes later, the chef thundered out of his own restaurant, his face dark and brooding! The media present went crazy. Rumours started immediately!

In the kitchen, the ingredients the chef had used for his oh-so-important cake still stood in a row with military precision! Isn’t it unfortunate that powdered sugar and salt cannot be told apart when one cooks in a hurry? (245 words)