PREFACE
Adulthood robs childhood of its sense of wonder. Perhaps a little of it is restored in this book. It is the work of pure fantasy, and does not follow any set pattern, form or function.
Was it not Odysseus after the epic battle for Troy, who, with his men, explored strange islands around Greece, islands inhabited by strange people as he sailed on his way home after an epic battle?
Like sailing with him, join me as we travel and explore on the high seas, and be amused by the story as to how the town came into being, was named, and how the lion escaped from the zoo, the upheavals he went through when he was in a fracas with a ram. As he lingers at death’s door, lingering in physical and mental pains and anguish, it being very sad, different specialties come to help him and create unwittingly strange scenarios in an effort to help him.
Let us sail along in our life’s boat, unfurl the sails and let the rudder lose as we explore the amusing vagaries of mankind as well as the animal kind.
Govind
ISBN : 978-0-9737278-502
Govind32@hotmail.com
Dr. G. N. Bhadresa is a retired Ophthalmologist living in Canada. He was born in Kenya, and spent his childhood in that country. He was educated in Britain, and eventually migrated to Canada. He has chronicled his life history in the book he wrote. It was called ‘Across Continents’.
He has several hobbies.
This is his latest work.
This book is dedicated to Dr. A. Gray- a good friend and a colleague.
CHAPTER I
NAMING OF THE TOWN
TYMROSE
‘I see this seat is not taken. Do you mind if I join you’, said the voice.
I was suddenly jolted from my reverie when I heard the voice. It was like a bolt from the blue. I was just enjoying the sunshine, sitting at a table that was outside the Café, and enjoying the aroma of my latte with that heavenly smell of Arabica.
My mind actually was in high gear, well oiled by the coffee that was stimulating all the cells in my brain. Watching the beautiful girls go by was only a part of this gratifying but useless activity.
Unfortunately, there was an empty chair at my table. I felt like objecting to the person who just spoke to me and broke my daydream, but I did not have the heart to say no, as it sounded like a very friendly voice. I also thought that some company can break the monotony for the day and I would even be delighted to have some company, and, perchance, even enjoy it.
‘No please, join me’, said I.
I was somewhat intrigued by this stranger. He seemed like a tall and handsome man, with hair that was thick and black, wavy and cascading on to his shoulders. It was like water gently flowing down a mountain. It was shiny and I could smell some perfume from it. I think it was like some fresh cut flowers, maybe Jasmine, but then I was no expert on the subject of flowers or perfumes. I think the shine of the wavy hair was because of the considerable amounts of hair oil applied to it. His eyelashes were thick, black and curvy. The face was very handsome.
The upper part of his torso was bare, though there were some long chains of silver and gold hanging loosely from his neck. He also had a thick thread hanging from his neck onto the chest. The thick thread was running diagonally from the right side of his neck, across to near his waist and going around the back. It was saffron yellow in colour. He was handsome, as I said, and the body was covered with a sky blue pigment. It is possible that it was his skin colour. That was rather odd, as I had seen many brown, yellow, white, or even black people but never a person of that colour. He was wearing a long Dhoti, made of pure silk, gold in color, with a fine border of green. His shoes were something I have never seen before- they came to a point that was curved upwards and inwards. The footwear was finely embroidered with a golden thread. He had a golden crown on his head. He had big, beautiful eyes, emanating a benevolent look. The face had beautiful aquiline nose and a luscious mouth. In short, he was impressive.
The crown on his head was itself alluring with a stunning design. Made of Gold, it was studded with Rubies, Sapphires, Topaz and other precious gems, but above and by itself was a large diamond. The diamond was rather like a fat and rich Bania sitting on a throne and doing his dictating, to which even his wife did not listen to! The very apex of the crown was adorned by a single feather of a peacock, adding to the beauty that was already there. It was like a God atop Mount Olympus.
Eccentric, Hippy, flower child, odd, a con-man, circus performer, one of those mysterious Hindu Saints and many other thoughts describing him sprang to my mind. I found it very amusing, to say the least, but kept it to myself without showing my amusement. I just gave him an interested look, hoping that he would clear the air eventually and enlighten me as to who he was. I had a fictitious smile on my face, at the same time hoping that he does not misunderstand my interest in his appearance.
‘Let me introduce myself. My name is Krishnamurti. I come from South India. In case you do not know, the name means an image of Krishna, the Hindu God’, he said.
We shook hands. I introduced myself as Tym. ‘Tym, I am a resident of this town that is called Tymrose’, I said.
‘You know’, he said, ‘it strikes me as being odd that I meet a man called Tym, in the town they call Tymrose. When I came yesterday, I passed a park called Tymrose Park. I see the Cafeteria is also called Tymrose, same with local schools, roads etc and now I am conversing with a man called Tym. You must be a very popular or a very rich man’, said he; ‘What is the connection in all of it, and why is it that so many things in this town are named after your name? Do you also own this Cafeteria, by any chance?’ he asked, rather sarcastically.
‘Well, I am afraid it is a long story. Somewhat long and uninteresting, and it can be of little interest to an outsider’, I said, trying to not discuss the rather mundane subject any further.
‘That’s fine, I have all the time in the world, as I am staying a few days in this town. I might even decide to live here if I like it. I am also dying to hear the story. At least the coffee smells good’, said he, with a very pleasant and soothing voice. To my chagrin, he put a tray overloaded with food on the table. (He was either very hungry or intended to stay at one spot for a long time).
We ordered more coffee, both of us being aware that we were getting ready for a long and possibly a painful haul.
‘Well, here it goes’, I said, feeling rather sorry for the man, who was bracing himself to hear a story that was rather long and maybe boring.
I also wanted to make sure that I had a lot of coffee in my cup before I began this mundane task.
‘It was many years ago - something like a hundred or more, when some hunters came across this green meadow. It was surrounded by trees. The surrounding forest was alive with all kinds of flora and fauna. They thought that it seemed like an ideal place to settle in. Anyway, as it turned out that they were absolutely right, as the land gave them more then what any man (or woman) can desire. There were fruits and vegetables of all kind. They grew without much effort. The town prospered, and, of course, more and more people joined in, to partake in this bounty, in this paradise, this Eldorado, this Camelot, this Shangri-La. Words were in fact inadequate to describe this golden find.
Unfortunately, but not surprisingly, over the years the people became slow and rather slovenly and some were quite obese. They saw no point in going to work, as the land provided for more food and other modes of sustainability then they desired or what they needed. They became slovenly, slow, lazy, not caring, easy going and passed their days in sheer bliss. There was enough food, accommodations, activities to pass the day easily. To catch up on the local gossip, people generally came to this cafeteria.
Now and then someone suggested that the town should be given a name. You must agree that it is rather odd that during all the years, the place did not have a name, mostly because the people saw no need for it. Reluctantly, they called a meeting to discuss this very subject. All kinds of names were suggested, but someone or other did not like the name suggested. They did not want anything significant, or a copy of all kinds of names that were present in this world, that of towns (like Buffalo, New York, Moscow, New Delhi, Tokyo- how mundane!), or those that some Indians had, names like- Riding on a Horse, Long Boat, Rising With The Sun, Man With An Ugly Child and similar undesirable or even insulting names.
Someone had a bright idea. He had watched Tym on a particular day– (Tym, being me, the laziest person in this town). He thought that I had done the oddest thing possible. He said that he saw me sitting at a table outside the coffee house, minding my own business, and enjoying the coffee that I had in front of me. He thought I epitomized and excelled in showing utter and complete laziness. In fact, I was the very essence, the trade mark for this town. As soon as the cup was empty, I would rise and get a refill, in my slovenly and nonchalant way. He was impressed, and could not get rid of the picture of this laziest man of town, rising just to get a cup of coffee. Hence he suggested that the town be called ‘Tymrose’. The great thing was that the name was of no significance at all. Everyone liked it and agreed, accepted it with alacrity and applauded the suggestion. Actually, they wanted the meeting to end, so that they could go to the cafeteria and imbibe the coffee that the town was well known for, and then go for a heavenly siesta.
They were all happy, as the name itself suggested a place of total laziness. TYMROSE, they said, when asked. Being too lazy to even think, they gave the name to anything and everything- schools, parks, businesses, streets, (Just called them T 1, or 2, or 3- you get the idea). Then everyone was happy.
CHAPTEFR II
THE LION LEAVES THE ZOO
Well, believe it or not, the town had some kind of a zoo. It had all kinds of animals in it. But the townspeople, being lazy, had not taken good care of it. The fencing needed to be repaired, the occasional food the animals got made them unhappy. Being unhappy, the lion decided to make a break for it. He told the lioness to follow him. Jumping over the fence that was poorly maintained was an easy task. With pride, and exuberance that only someone who had obtained freedom recently can only appreciate, he made his break. With pride, his mane flowing and waving in the wind, he made his strides into town. He looked outstanding. The lioness followed. What a sight the couple made!
Along with them, all the animals also found their long lost freedom, and followed their own adventures but that is another story. Some followed their magnificent leader.
Townspeople saw what had happened, but being lazy, they did not want to do anything about it. It also meant that there was less work to do for the people that worked in the zoo, and more time to go out for coffee.
Of course, and given some time, the lion and his companion were hungry eventually, so they took to enjoying the local gourmet food- dogs, cats and whatever that the town could provide. The townspeople saw no harm in it, as they were of the opinion that even these animals had to eat. Eventually, as there was a shortage of these creatures, the lion and his companion started to eat the people of the town. Once again, the people of the town did nothing about it. All agreed that after all, the lion had to eat.
It was thus that the lion and his companions basked in the laziness of the town, content at doing nothing. They also became lazy.
CHAPTER III
THE LION MEETS WITH AN ACCIDENT
Unfortunately for them, and for the people of the town, there lived a ram, a he goat that was built from pure and large amounts of testosterone. Along with a bad temper, he also had pointy and long horns, rather like that of a Unicorn, except he had two of these. They also pointed forward. They also looked dangerous.
He was always in a foul mood, and the people of the town avoided him. His muscles were like coiled springs. As he charged everyone, he was called a ‘Ramcharger’, and as a reminder of this fact the town people also avoided him, he was often termed a ‘Ramdodger’. As he was thick, powerful, straight- like a pillar, he was also called ramrod, the charger to be avoided or dodged at all costs! Not to follow the advice given was at one’s own peril or even at the expense of his life. So, in fact he was not the dodger, but those that had the misfortune to meet him were in fact the dodgers.
As was bound to happen, the paths of the lion and the ram crossed. Each one had their pride, and would not budge out of the way for anyone, come man or beast. As one would say, they were bound to meet one day, be it their pride, maybe it was the lion’s destiny, or as a payback for the havoc the Ram had caused to many a family. Whatever, their eyes met, and anger suffused them with engorged blood vessels. The lion stood erect, with pride, his tail erect, while the ram was supercharged with the electricity that was running in his veins as a result of the testosterone running through his muscles. One heard a roar, frightening, earthshaking, loud noise and then the land went all quiet, but only for a nanosecond, and then the noise erupted. The sound was that of the lion roaring and the ram bleating, louder than any sound that even Beethoven can devise. The ram became erect, bent his head so that the horns were pointing forwards, and he charged. He rubbed his legs on the ground a few times, in menace. The lion roared an earth shattering one in response. There was a cloud of dust as the two giants clashed furiously. Unfortunately, for the lion, it was nothing short of devastation. At the last minute, the ram had bent his head sideways, so that one of the horns hit the upper palate in the lion’s mouth, while the lower horn broke his jaw. The lion fell down, while the ram retreated, being rather proud of his accomplishment. The lion had obviously forgotten the sage advice that dodge the ram at any cost, or pay with his life if he ignored the advice, or, if by any chance he forgot that advice.
Slowly, over the next few days, the lion recovered, but only partially. However, whenever he tried to roar, the sound would come out as a shrill whistle. He was ashamed. His shame knew no bounds and he never even try to roar again. Even worse was the fact that he could not eat but only some soft gruel. (He could not chew or even bite anything substantial). The town’s people were delighted to oblige him and even cooked the recipe that was made up just for him. For those wishing to obtain a recipe for this delightful gruel, it was basically frog’s legs seasoned with poulette, Oyster Rockefeller in tangy curry sauce, powdered dried beetles, spiders legs, crocodile fingers, stinking fish, all meshed with water, spiced up appropriately with salt, water and other spices. Feeling rather sorry for him, someone threw a blanket over him. The lioness felt sorry for him, and with tears that were not crocodile tears but real lion tears that tore through your heart, she languished by him through eternity, as it would seem. Often, she was seen with her paws on the poor lion. She also ate the same gruel that was presented to him by the kind people of the town. It was in this manner that the days passed in the town for the couple as well as for the many of his faithful companions.
CHAPTER IV
THE CROW
As I was telling the story, I noticed a crow was circling above in the sky. He saw that I was telling in fact a fable, a kind of story that does not belong to this world or the next. He did not realize that it was the most boring story ever told, and because he was always interested in a story, it piqued his interest; not only that, but he wanted to make sure that it would be told accurately. Soon a murder of these ugly creatures was to follow. There would also be a desire to murder them.