Magical Realism

The Flying Golden-Grass Machine

The unknown labourer in the outskirts of Kolkata.
Photograph by Jagriti Rumi

Excerpts from the report

#First entry; Day 1

It landed lightly right behind the unknown labourer who was sweating his day off, certain of his actions and in complete focus, busy in a simple yet, arduous task.

#Fifth entry; Day 1

The flying golden-grass machine runs on a magic engine. A high maintenance product, if not frequently checked, leaks pixie dust.

#Thirteenth entry; Day 1

On the way back from home, that evening, when you saw an aeroplane blinking red-blue lights in the sky, you had uttered something, do you remember it, mister?

You were just fourteen then and had a rather rough day and a broken slipper was not helping either.

You had wished to fly.

Of course, you meant in an aeroplane, but you know how things are in offices, what was spoken was noted down verbatim, it became a written record and a record is the most sacrosanct concept and is hailed throughout the universe.

#Third entry; Day 3

It may look a bit raggedy to you, but it is as good as new. After the service station gave it a nod and we made them sign a nine-paged document for the record, this is its first trip. We, sir, run a professional organisation here.

#Ninth entry; Day 5

Come on now, why don’t you give it a try. The sky awaits you, explore the world and be spellbound by its majesty.

Also, then you have to fill a bunch of forms and sign it, for record purposes.

#First entry; Day 9

Listen, we do apologise for being late. Don’t be upset, in fact, you would be pleased to know that this is also an award, you are one of the most efficient and disciplined people in this world, please accept your prize… and then sign this document here… just a formality.

#Eleventh entry; Day 21

A handful of resources and a handful of desires, how do you adjust to such a life so easily? Doesn’t the heat bother you… the flies, the stench and the failures?

Is life nothing but a cycle ride to you? Oh, remember the cycle rides from your childhood? I do, very clearly, we have it in the records.

With the wind in your hair, you rode it so swiftly, beating all your friends… I bet you can beat the flying golden-grass machine as well.

#First entry; Day 40

Ahm! Let me again ask for your forgiveness for the delay, our department is not the best, it is the 6th best, well 16th actually, but keep this off the record please.

Nevertheless, there is no fault of this machine. It is a good model; many have travelled to far off lands in this little light ride.

What is remarkable is that it is in so many ways just like you, mister.

It too works year long, dreaming of meeting new travellers, visiting different lands, stopping at pixie-dust-pump-stations, collecting visions silently.

#Fifteenth entry; Day 55

Yes, for the 100th time yes, this is a magical machine… and… oh, why don’t you understand… think of it this way, you have won a lottery… you are getting to travel the world, okay? Now, don’t waste time and sign this…

*

RECORDS

Entry: 90005070QPx∞

The unknown labourer, id no.00089∞, after two months of bewilderment, shock, anxiety, panic, anger and confusion, agreed to make use of the flying golden-grass machine.

The messenger, id no. ᶲᴥ჻֎, successfully delivered the award and got the awardee’s signatures on all the forms.

Please find attached here the detailed report of the awardee’s world tour.

The messenger took charge of the flying golden-grass machine once the tour ended; the awardee’s memory was altered as per the protocol; he will now remember it as a strange dream.

Please find attached here all the signed documents for your perusal.

Blessings and bell chimes!

Bright regards,

XO

Messenger id no. ᶲᴥ჻֎

Random Honest Wishes Fulfilling Department

The Misty Realm


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Make This Magic Potion Every Day

Cassy the Liberator is famous for hypnotizing, just look in her eyes and you will know. Read the post to know who she is.
Image from Pixabay.

Dear Clementine,  

Mix a bit of red liquid with blue one, it is on the upper left shelf and then add a bucket full of sparkly sparkle, glittery light kept in the three vessels under the oak table and add ‘skadoosh’ and ‘skadaash’, top desk drawer… oh just refer to my notes and diagrams and make this magic potion.  

Yes, no more questions, just experiment, what is stopping you?

Think about this powerful potion and say cheers. Ya-hoy!  

Remember what I told you about the letter I found… and a map… oh, no that was a game of knots and crosses… but the letter was from my grandmother, the great magician… she revealed a great secret to me, the recipe to make the ultimate elixir.  

Enough talking, mix it all and heat it up and then cool it down and leave it forever for a few minutes… I mean leave it with the “feeling” of leaving it forever in that pot.

FEELING, remember my dear Clementine, is very important. What you feel adds a different colour to every magic potion.  

Is it ready, is it ready? But how will I know? Write to me soon if you are successful in making this potion – Dynami Tou Parontos.

It is Greek for the ‘Power of Present’. Keep the ‘P’ in capital here. Jim, your uncle’s little brother, made this mistake, but forget that and remember to believe in this potion while preparing it. Hmm!  

Dynami Tou Parontos gives you the power to be fully present in the NOW, to see the bright light in its glory, to hear the quiet wind and feel the splendour of nature.

You feel not only powerful but also truly at peace. Your victory is guaranteed!

Whoever has used this magic potion, has won, even a drop of it leads to triumph.  

Remember this spell, Skadoosh and Skadaash.
Image from Pixabay.

Word of caution – the effort to make this potion should be honest or else the potion will not work.  

Oh, how glorious are the tales, this potion has supported many a warrior to fight the enemy and the self.

You know Cassy the Liberator, she had used and still uses this potion, it freed her and now she frees the others (but she charges way too much, you know).  

What is the mechanics, the science behind it? Good question, but I said no questions.

Oh, it is beautiful, being in the NOW awakens your soul, you connect with the Universe’s soul, boom, the Universe gifts you with tons of magical energy and boom you win the battle. Got the answer? Good, good.  

And yes, I almost forgot, burn this letter of mine and put its ash in the pot, this will help you straighten your thoughts while you prepare. How? I do not know, my grandmother asked me to do the same.  

Good girl mix, mix, mix, stir, stir, stir, heat it, cool it down.

And of course, take a sip then. Duh!  

Waving my hat,

Magic Ciao!

CJ Star  

My bottle of magic potion, only for 500$. (Buy from me, Cassy the liberator will charge you double.)
Image from Pixabay.

P.S – Clementine, tell Mrs Curry to return my trunk, my books and Mr Rocky to return my pickle jar.

P.P.S – Make this magic potion, every day.  


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She

Flash Fiction

She is just ten years old. Talkative and curious by nature, she wishes to know, but only about the magical, the dreamlike and the pleasing.

Her world is of all the shades of pink. With the warmth of an honest, caring canopy overhead, she looks at the stars and floats in the Milky Way.

There is ample clarity in everything she sees and time’s her friend – blistering fast or dragging slow. There is only one melody she is tuned to and it is called life.

*

She is living in her own world, within and without.
Image from Pixabay.

She is young and brave. Quietly, she observes the world and the world within her, laughs at her.

Battling the questions and transforming the answers, she moves ahead with every failure and tries to fathom the success.

A mirror walks with her; she has broken it umpteen times but they are still in a relationship. Her cries, her sighs, her laughs, her smiles, her ways and one life… all packed in a rucksack is her pride and joy.


The doubtful star burns with her glare and the rhythm of change trespasses the old.

She is living for others now and has placed herself on the top shelf, in a green trunk, under an old book. Close to many and far from herself, she is standing on the border – this way or that way… her life is slipping away…

She just woke up and whatever was under the old book, in a green trunk, on the top shelf she burned that rusted world to dust.

Walking on ashes, she turns black and grey until the mirror returns. It is not going to be joyous all through, but she doesn’t mind the sound of a burned guitar.


They say she is weak and crouched, that she hears less and that her wrinkles make her a puzzle. A puzzle indeed and a child from within, no one knows what a good time she is having.

Her old eyes shine like a starry night and things magically appear and disappear with her touch. The words cannot express bliss; she is singing, hear this – ‘La-la, li-li, o, la-la, li-li’.

She is extraordinary. She is over there, can you see her? I know you can.


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Faded Yellow

The lovely faded yellow flower.
Image – Pixabay.

I saw a beautiful little flower on the road. The wind must have brought it on my way. It was crushed by someone and was faded yellow.

Extremely beautiful and what a smile.

Saying hello to me it beamed. I couldn’t resist my curiosity and straightaway asked it about its amazing colour…the depth of the faded colour had seeped in me.

I, somehow, could feel the faded colour, I was arrested by the colour.

Smiling again it said, ‘because of your eyes’. I didn’t understand the reply but I too smiled.

I was influenced, captured and enlivened by the faded colour of the yellow flower.

Smooth, dull, faded magic touched my heart. Its lightness entered me. I was with kindness, love and serenity.

The encounter was of a split second but the little crushed faded yellow flower left me beautified…forever.


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