Sayings

Search for a bathroom, find a gold mine: a phenomenon or event where one sets to find a thing of least value and ends up finding a mountain of gold..

You need a crowbar to eat an ice cream: A phenomenon when you've to put in so much effort to eat something simple. 

The sun was setting down into the distant sea. The life on the beach was busy, brimming with life and piety. Shaven heads and unshaven chins walked past counting rosemaey beads. Songs called out praises of mother mary and her son. The crackle of the fire on corn and the pop of a soda bottle filled the background. Beach hawkers roped in potential customers and mandatory onlookers with sleight of hand.

An energetic figure walked by. He was trailed by two even hop-pier kids. Girls, with an air of stubbornness and freedom that comes with fun parenting. Their leader was lean, stark his eyes brimmed with vigor though his age was marked by the white hair weeded head and the pouchy skin. He was in his late thirties.

The scene caught fire. The low usual mundanity was wiped by his entry. He was the shark on the beach.

He strode next to the beach near me. Bending, he drew an arch on the ground. From its convocal midpoint, he drew a line downwards and made a cross at its centre. It was in fact a cross with an umbrella as a cap. And then, with a smart flick of the same arm, he swiped sand from the point where the lines of the cross met and rubbed his forehead, being blessed by the sand, son of the mother ocean.  

And here I was thinking only Rajinikanth had such air, such natural sense of style.

I kept watching. Waiting for him to do something even mouth gaping. His kids bent too, to copy their dad. They drew the same arch and giggled as the waves washed their imitations away. The father laughed. It was only then that I noticed him. His chest had a crescent shaped arch below his left nipple. A souvenier from his days as a ruffian. His arms, biceps and abdomen was tattooed. A cross hung lazily from his chest and was wooden.

The kids ran into the sea and called their smart dad to follow. He smiled and ran. Ran and jumped. Jumped and somersaulted. Somersaulted halfway and dove into the oncoming waves. The king of the sea had returned

'Oh not so fast' Mom said, 'finish your milk'

'But Ma! I hate milk!'

'Milk makes your bones strong. I dont want a puny child'

'Hmpf. But its hot!'

'Here, let me cool it down for you'

Mom took another empty steel glass. In swift motions, she poured the milk back and forth between the two glasses and said 'Here you go!'

Gobble Gobble

'Bye Mom. I am going to play cricket'

'Be safe!'

Ten years later, the cricket ground outside his house had been turned into a park. There were swings, slides and merry go rounds for the little kids. He watched his son jump around in a trampoline. His daughter was sitting with his mother playing with an iPad. 'Life moves on', he thought to himself. At that moment the phone rang.

'That ringtone is getting annoying dear'

His wife picked up the phone. There was an agitated male voice from the other end. His wife shrieked.

There was a stark blue stark. Sitting on the edge of the fence master’s fence. Staring away into the blueness above. Waiting. waiting. And then it happened. It was all fuzzy for the stark. But it knew what went wrong. Precisely where. Precisely how. A wand appeared out of nowhere. a blue smoke, blue lustre and a peculiar smell. The stark broke. Something emerged from it. And it was nowhere near the imagination of parents trying to scare their kids into having their meal. it was ogre some. It was daunting. if you looked at it, you would feel all the life sucked out of you, experience you just get after fighting a dementor at the verge of your life. It was covered with leather, looked like the black demon that chases the fellowship as they cross the bridge.  It had two enormous horns that spiralled four times before ending in a sharp spear. It had two beady eyes, big enough to make girls go crazy over. There were no visible ears.  The nose was split and indistinct. Like a snake.

"Art thou mystic endeavors worth something now? Shall I not smile hearty at the fall of the Great King?"

"Aye, Howbeit, thou shalt taste blood lief! Shed thou weed and parley with thine lord for thou hast blaspheme!"

"I shall mind not of the plans plotted time per se. Neither shalt thou bother what that shall meet. I doth not know what lays yonside."

"Me Brave Lord, par fay methinks we are to call somewhither."

"Aide? Ye suggestest aide? How dare ye mocketh thine master. We shall fight ontil our souls depart the beastly earthen souls."

"Pardon me lord. I shall take leave for now hath the eastern wind thirsts for blood, for our glory."  

A truncated mug lay on the metal floor. It had a large blue distasteful stain on its left. People ignored this as they passed unassumingly on the aisle of Distrain. What they never came to know was the history of this single jug. But they never cared. Would you? Some debris on the street is something you would give a shoe for. But Jack is not like us. Jack's the curious cat.

Jack's aunt, Julia Epithet hated him for this quality of curiosity. She tried to scare him out of it. But little did she know, she can only control Jack not the fate he has to face. Not the stories people would pass on for years and generations to come, about the Legendary Jack and the Blue Mug. Could she have known that?? Not a chance. 

It was an unusual glow. The dark black box seemed to be vibrating strongly. The nooks were filled with immense brightness struggling to escape, extending helpless hands for help. The box was a wonder. Its architecture was designed by geniuses. Master Craftsmen.

The box was made up of black eerie Platinum Black. The box, on each side had an arch protruding out, that encompassed symbols and sayings in Hebrew. The lintel of the arch was Primeval in design though. The sides beyond the pillars of the arch had a stone figure of a puma. A crouching sleuth. Wicked orange eyes it had, set in a purplish body tan. The solid arcs were raised forward by an inch and were made of solid gold. They looked real and menancing, even though being just a stone.

The Forensic Study group took careful notes, and took an equally long time too. They started their tests after two hours of examination, comparing records, making references. They tested for various biochemical contaminants that could have been used to pry open the box. Their tests revealed that the box had been a virgin, entirely untouched, so much so that even air had forgotten the memory of the box’s touch.

They loaded all their gear into the gear pull tractor nearby, and got ready to heave the box onto the wooden tray that would transport it to the outside confirming its virginity.

As soon as the Commander in Chief came inches to touching the box, a cry echoed from around. He turned, sharp, gun fixed onto the estimated source of origin. He saw someone running towards him, The Page Boy. He stopped and listened to what that boy had to say,” The…..box has been disturbed…..Check for …….protein…… contamination”, he said in between deep breaths. The Commander looked puzzled and asked, “What makes you think so?”. “ Protein Precipitates………….. at Room 112”, he gasped. The Commander had to take his chances. And so he did. He had trusted The Page Boy ever since he met him at the Gaza Strip. “Spray it with Protein Uncoverers” he said. The unit followed. And sprayed all the possible reagents. Nothing happened. “Try Ninhydrin” The Page Boy said. “You asked us to look for proteins!!” The Commander interrupted. “ The box is reactive as you know it, it can break compounds into its components” The Page Boy suggested. The Commander took in his argument and asked the unit to do so. And they sprayed, four cans of Ninhydrin Spray. The ninhydrin spray, sprayed all over the box revealed violet shy traces of amino acid contamination. Glowing with a wicked blue glow.

Stepping back he looked at the box. It looked more like a colourful huge wicked toy.