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Category Archives: ministory

Obscurity is the greatest irony that can be inherent in an epitaph…its space is also a kernel- of obscurity that covers the space.

A mongrel who wanted to have its night –life out, went to an unmarked grave. Its most dignified part of the body was its tail, which was tempered by savage brawls and vagaries of the inclement.

It started reading the epitaph: Space of obscurity lying unmarked in an un-earthly grave.

The stray mongrel started whimpering when the the ghost started creaking the chimes of a worn out municipality clock”.

Before the dog could lift its legs and scoot, the skeleton grinned and shrieked!

The dog ran whimpering : “every dog has its day”.

A person who wanted to scatter his remains all over the world discovered to his surprise, that he was hardly dead.
Amused, he decided that an easy way out was to write it out.
After his death, people visited his grave and stared at it—slowly, silently, passionately and then broke out laughing.

Sadly he remarks: “ I wish I was human and having a body now, filled with emotions; I wish I could walk back and read what they are reading”.

The writer’s kit has four important things:-


1.         A book for writers called memories of all utopias.

2.         A magical dictionary of finding words just like thought.

3.         An odd pen that survives the hide’s carnal slip of dejection

4.         The art of carpentry –i.e. to make book-shelves in case all others fail.



        A kitsch-cock journeying on the mariner-ship called Kitsch-spook by chance dreamt of the CLAW. It nagged him in ways as an imaginary bird, as the live Eagle, as the wonderful in everything that was close to the human. It CLAWED into imagination as every human’s finger print forming an acrostic –the CLAW; thus:

                             C- for the Composite

                              L- for the Loop

                              A – for the Arch

                               W – for the Whorl

Thus ‘Kitsch-cock’ smiled exaggeratedly blossoming into a ‘Kitsch-cockian’ smile as the claw.

A man called archaic stereo-type-trope—as Zeus-Jupiter-Moses-Harley-Davidson,  was then imagined into a gigantic, rippling, bronze-hulk, armed to the teeth with the fetish-machinery of the spear-axe-maze-automatic-nuke; now as times changed, was reduced by the eccentricities of poets to inspiration, and further reduced to miniscule rust-proof tip  called ‘little beef’ whose head crouched as a troll, who gleamed further;  when the  book was released from the trigger and signed,  a chorus of black-bullet splatter shot out; the gonzo, Zeus-Jupiter-Moses-Harley Davidson, grins and whroooms off muttering, “oh bush, the gasoline  is eating me up

Dr. Grill-Hedge ambling on the shingle beach called isle, chewing Wrigley; there he  chanced upon an infatuation! Spitting gum …he separated letters- S, H, I, N, G, L, E and rearranging them, he thought of generations of plantations and planters speaking! Slyly he thought he would insert it as a quote in his introductory essay-  Post Colonial dialectic of the native called darker  -speaking continent.
He left the seashore, leaving the chewing and the gum and Virginia tobacco and Wolf pouch. The wind flew into his wet-underpants as a carefree egret, transmigrating parts of him and the tongues of sand. Decibels grating on sandpaper had a peculiar effect as they wound themselves on to a grail forming a strange letters called runes. As they formed  a mirage called the shadow, there emerged  the set of letters as e,n,g,l,i,s,h .



Falgunnah Webber writes astrology columns for the ‘Daily Labyrinth’. Today he’s in his office doing the polishing touches of an astrology column to be inserted on Friday the 13th edition, 2002.

With a click of the mouse, he’s wipes his beads of sweat, as a ‘by Jove expression.’ The editors of the ‘Daily Labyrinth’ are surprised to find ‘Aries’ paragraph missing. Telephoning back, they are besieged by the silence at the other end.

On Friday the 13th 2002, the astrology column appeared as usual. The audience reading their astrology would not be surprised by the by same Aries column that appeared on Friday the 13th of ‘Daily Labyrinth’s edition 1991.

In the obituary column, there’s a news snippet about the death of a famous astrologer Falgunnah Webber. There’s also a pictorial signature of Webber’s original signature. It was an unusual signature, just the (f) shaped to resemble the Ankh. The (f) of Frank was shaped in way that the head of (f)… rank curved and looped the horizontal line at the center. Frank also had a curious way of stretching the horizontal line of (f) sideways.

The reporter with a talent for the sound of music concocted that Frank as usual was at his desk. After finishing all the 11 signs, he turned to his own. Little did he know that he would collapse and remain as eternity on the desk. The surgeon has confirmed that death occurred due to massive cerebral hemorrhage.



Millions of eyes are falling out of the moon and forming an ocean of eyes. In the ocean of human eyes, a mariner ship is moving. There’s preternatural apparition of ghostly silhouettes leaning over from the deck. They are looking into the ocean of eyes.

The readers are left to the eyes and the dream ‘s imagination .