A Genesis Story – Ambala

It was a hot and sunny day. The leaves crackled and folded in complaint, and the earth boiled in anger. Grrrr, grrrooo, grrrr, grroooo. Crackle, crackles, crisps, crisps. Hotter than a February afternoon at Industrial area, or at Jua Kali. Hotter than the feeling by onions as they dance rhythmically to the sweet tunes of hot cooking oil, and as they burn their feet on the close-molten dance floor. Burn,  burn. Heat, fire..The sun was cooking a beef recipe, baking skins. On this day, the ozone layer had absconded duty. It was hot.

Evelyn sat restlessly on a cassock seat. Her fingers aching with activity..one minute they were flapping paper across her face, and the next they were wiping drops of ammonia off her black aquiline nose. Adamba, her husband was busy as bee and hive too, helping Noah. Noah, the ever-present guide and voice of wisdom -Noah was the closest to sibling Adamba could ever have. Fold, organize, instruct, oversee; he was doing it all. The event had to be a success; it was the launch of Noah’s restaurant.

The launch had been the talk of town. Many had wished to attend, but few were invited. Only the crème de la crème of society. As a premiere touch, Noah’s had an offer; buy one get one free. So everything came in twos..two chicken, two chips, two pattes, two glasses of water, two buns, two. Two grains of salt, and two of pepper. Noah double-double; no other could beat that.

And so came the beautiful part. The part where the tongue appreciated God’s creations. When the different tongue parts separated bitter, sweet, sour, salty and such phenomena. The hour of reckoning between good and grim table finesse. The seated, after a 3-hour wait, were more than delighted by the idea of food. They tossed, tagged, swept, kicked and picked, licked and gulped; all in the blink of an eye. And when a loud garlic-scented burp escaped Evelyn’s jaws, she could do nothing but bow her head in shame. Sumptuous were the meals, and elated was the crowd. And at the end of it all, piles of bones and left-over vegetable were guiltily piled at a corner of Noah’s previously pruned and propered green lawn. At the sight of his new damaged-beyond-repair-of-the-once-beautiful lawn, Noah was saddened. Tireless nights and scrupulous amounts of money had been spent on this yard. Things had been okay, but now they were starting to go wrong. He frowned, and two folds showed on his forehead.

Tout a coup (suddenly), there was a garbage breakdown. Monsieur Garbage just couldn’t handle the heat. He danced to Mc Hammer’s tunes. He wore a satin pair of bell-bottomed pants and did a jig…break-break, dance-dance.. Miss Fungi was panting and sweating as Bacteria pushed her around on the dance floor. A little sway of hips here, a rhythmic move of shoulders there..but Bacteria wouldn’t let her be. So when she finally recoiled back to her seat, Bacteria knew he had won. Like a an auctioneer chasing a rent defaulter, the bacteria and heat had cooked the fungi into a healthy plate of manure. Fresh and fertile.  And at this sight, Noah got overwhelmed with emotion. They vacillated(the emotions); his eyes suggested that they should cry. But his fists suggested they should fire up someone’s chin. Then they finally came to a decision..and Noah took some water to aid them. Two glasses to be precise, just enough for him to weep two fountains, and rivers too.

And as Noah wept, Adamba reached out to give him tissues..when he realized there were none. How could they have run out so fast?? So into his car Adamba hopped, just to discover that he had a flat tire. Luckily, his lovely wife was busy licking a large doughnut, ready to lip it and lavishly gulp it down.. “Please, I need it..I’ll get you another”. Those were the words of one Adamba to his love, as he quickly rimmed the oily doughnut and whisked away. The crowd remained baffled and began to depart, this was too bizarre an event.

As Noah continued to weep, the earth began to grind and gruggle. Grr, grr. Like Grogon. Grr, grr. It was singing freedom songs, inspired by Mandela. A revolution was about. It had to break free; free from the arms of the earth, free from the warm embrace of the soil. Up and running, taller and taller. Taller than Hansel and Gretel’s adventures, taller than Jack’s beanstalk. And there behold, was a tree. The most beautiful one ever seen, perched with the rosiest of flowers right at its fore.

These were the most bizarre shenanigans that Evelyn had ever set eyes on. At least the much that her eidetic memory could recall. And yet, they were only a week old at Edenville Estate. With mouth agape, she wondered what more atrocities the future held for them. The devil and his menacing antics were truly alive. Right at the moment, a Mercedes ML350  pulled up right at the yard’s front. Out came a stunning work of art; perfect was his everything; face, body, poise. Oozing Paco Rabanne’s One Million man. Charm. Evelyn suddenly lost her sense of who and where she was. All she could hear was the work of art introduce himself, “Sabi is my name, full name Sabend”..in a crisp Kalenjin accent.

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