THE PRIMEVAL

BISWAJIT




Jim was a celebrity in his school owing to his excellence in weaving lies. With an innocent face, he used to clarify this as his art of story showing.
Once, on botanic study tour, Jim reported his conversation with a tree:
I heard a cry, ‘Save me from the giant!’
I asked, ‘Who is it?’
‘I’m the tree in front of you’
‘How can a tree talk?’
‘We talk in thoughts. Once I could run too. Now none hears me, luckily you heard’
“But ‘Giant?’ ”
‘It was attacking. I ran to this valley, hiding here’
‘Tell me how it looked?’
‘See, I’m drawing on the mud with twig’
‘Hmm, like elephant— big tusks— hairy— you mean mammoth?’
‘Mamm…what? I didn’t know its name, I was just a sapling then’
‘Don’t worry. It’s extinct now’— ‘Oh, that means you are prehistoric?’
‘Preh… What?’
‘I mean… oldest’
‘May be’
‘What’s your age?’
‘How would I know? Long since I had been asleep. As I woke up, found myself in this uncomfortable atmosphere, suffocating, surrounded by strange creatures like you. I tried to move but could not’ It continued, ‘I’m feeling sleepy…’ and never talked again.
Irritated by this ‘Idiotic bluff’ Jim’s teacher started typing a rustication note:
‘Principal Sir,
May we consider Jim …’
— interrupted; peon came exclaiming with joy:
‘Sir, experts said that the primeval tree is more than six thousand years old! Jim is genius’

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