The author was at Cochin Airport. Suddenly he watched all the people getting up. Whoa Whoa it’s me at last getting respect as a writer. Wow! Terrific! Suddenly I noticed a man on wheel chair going through the lounge and to my surprise it was OV Vijayan the Maestro of Malayalam Literature. I smiled ironically as a writer of obscurity.
Vellapan’s occupation was to make counterfeit money. His printing was so unique that it was identical to the real notes published. On being grilled by the Police, being physically abused he said if the note bundles are kept in a row, his name will appear on the margins.
I was at the land officer’s office regarding a wanted signature on a lease deed document’s document on a form which was to be submitted to the school’s council. I showed him the original document. He said he needed to see the land document along with the lease deed. There ends my one day gone in waste. The government of Kerala is a real hum bug.
Journalist Wood Word was typing the thriller news bound for publishing in Chicago Times on his laptop. Here goes the news:
Gruesome Shoot in the Chicago University’s school of Religions
Prof Ioan Couliano: an academician per excellence, a polyglot, a luminary of medieval religions and theology was shot dead with a Berretta in the rest room. The FBI has no clues on the murder. Rumors about the shootout are circling in the air. There are two possibilities about his murder. One was that he was a staunch critic of the Romanian Communist Regime and the secret police there connived in murdering him. Another version is he was a victim of secret societies who were estranged about him, bequeathing their secrets in his opus magnum: Murder and Magic in the renaissance. Mr. Wood Word was happy in completing his assignment and gave a contented sigh. Though he did like Ioan Couliano but he was more loyal to the cult and so he had to shoot him.
I was in the Loo in Singapore Chang Ki Airport. I walked around to see people peeing. Their sizes were many. Their colors too. For some the foreskin was fully covered. I looked at my own, the circumcised one. I enjoyed seeing a museum of such wonder.
I wake up and you glare at me. I try to soothe you, coax you to work a financial miracle in my life. But at the end of the day, all I get is bricks and stones. You have been favorable to the Nation. But I ask you to have some gratitude to me.
During my sojourn in Indonesia I came across the mythic Garuda, the mythical bird which was borrowed from Indian culture. I try to symbolize it in my life as a bird incarnating in me and helping me to travel places, meet people and experiment cultures.
For a long time I have pondered on the depth of the Masonic Symbol. First thought that occurred me was G was God. The second inherent symbol was G for Geometry. The third, I burst out laughing was the G—spot.
I had two spectacular and strange dreams. In one dream I saw a suitcase and in the other I dreamt of a bank. A suitcase indicates a long distance voyage and a bank indicates a lot of money coming my way. I augur that these dreams will be perfectly realized on earth.