Karan Aswani | Mugafi Community Post | #fishflashfiction When God visited us I consider my household to be blessed. God visited us for a whole month. He came in the form of a young male cook. Bablu was his name: of average height, medium frame, sporting a thin moustache, checked shirt and jeans. Earphones plugged-in while cooking. While signs of his greatness were not eminently known the day he arrived, it became indisputable in a few weeks. In week two, when Bablu was asked to repeat dishes he had cooked for us, he simply couldn’t reproduce them. There was a discernible difference in their character. In week three, the same dishes had an altogether new flavour, with minimal changes in ingredients. This repeated in week four. Bablu’s creative urges would take over and subdue whatever knowledge he had of recipes. Every chef summons creativity while cooking, but Bablu’s unknowing affinity for diversity in the same dish was exceptional. Only God does not make any two things alike – snowflakes, mountains, stars, planets, humans (even twins have different characters). There is no repetition in nature. Bablu’s gifts were now in plain sight, may another’s palate be damned. When a guest came over for dinner, I gave Bablu instructions on spices. The Creator, can however, be under no one’s tutelage. Much like a painter channelises inspiration without premeditated thought on what she will give birth to, Bablu with a flourish stamped his individuality on to the dishes. My guest had spice fumes coming out of her nose. Quite soon after that day, we had to, sadly, bid God good-bye and request him to continue his magic in a galaxy far, far, away.

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Writer • 10 september 2022

#fishflashfiction When God visited us I consider my household to be blessed. God visited us for a whole month. He came in the form of a young male cook. Bablu was his name: of average height, medium frame, sporting a thin moustache, checked shirt and jeans. Earphones plugged-in while cooking. While signs of his greatness were not eminently known the day he arrived, it became indisputable in a few weeks. In week two, when Bablu was asked to repeat dishes he had cooked for us, he simply couldn’t reproduce them. There was a discernible difference in their character. In week three, the same dishes had an altogether new flavour, with minimal changes in ingredients. This repeated in week four. Bablu’s creative urges would take over and subdue whatever knowledge he had of recipes. Every chef summons creativity while cooking, but Bablu’s unknowing affinity for diversity in the same dish was exceptional. Only God does not make any two things alike – snowflakes, mountains, stars, planets, humans (even twins have different characters). There is no repetition in nature. Bablu’s gifts were now in plain sight, may another’s palate be damned. When a guest came over for dinner, I gave Bablu instructions on spices. The Creator, can however, be under no one’s tutelage. Much like a painter channelises inspiration without premeditated thought on what she will give birth to, Bablu with a flourish stamped his individuality on to the dishes. My guest had spice fumes coming out of her nose. Quite soon after that day, we had to, sadly, bid God good-bye and request him to continue his magic in a galaxy far, far, away.

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