Category: Kreated Kues

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“Are you sure this is the right road, Georg?”

“I think so, Sergei. The voice in my ear is telling me which way to turn, which road to follow.”

“And it said to follow this road?”

“Of course.”

“What is this voice in your ear and why don’t I have one?”

“Don’t have time to talk about that. Another message is coming through.”

“What’s it say?”

“Keep right on.”

“You sure?”



“That’s what it says.”

“But who are all these people at the sides of the road, and why are they waving at us?”

“No idea, mate. Don’t suppose it’s us they’re waving at, anyway.”

“Who else?”

“There must be someone else coming after us. Let’s face it, who wants to come out to see a group of mates out for a bike ride?”

“Anything else on today, on this road?”

“I should say so. The Tour de France is passing through later this afternoon.”

“That must be what all these people are here for.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me.”

“Georg, you don’t suppose…”

“They think we’re professional racers? Nah. We’d not be playing ‘follow my leader’ if we were, would we?”

“S’pose not. Still. I’m interested in the voice in your ear. Some sort of satnav, is it?”

“No idea. It’s just there, telling me stuff.”

“What sort of stuff?”

“Like which way to turn, and other stuff too.”

“Other stuff? Like what?”

“Usually things that help me decide what I’m supposed to do.”

“Ahh! Which one is it: Google Assistant, Siri, Cortana or Alexa?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, mate.”

“Tell you what. When we stop, would you let me borrow the earpiece, so I could hear it?”

“Earpiece? What earpiece?”

I wrote this in response to Kreative Kue 175, issued on this site earlier this week. Feel free to join in; just follow the link.


“You know I like to spend time with you when I’m in the region, Rajesh, but must we really come to watch this fighting? I could have spent the evening at home with Priya, which I know she would have preferred.”

“Listen to me, Sanyam. This is not just fighting, this is Kalaripayattu. It is an essential part of our heritage. It is the oldest and most scientific martial art form in the world.”

“Look at it, man. Whatever fancy name you give it, it is still fighting. Look at them; they are using weapons. They could hurt each other. Badly.”

“What you are seeing, my friend, is a performance art. No-one gets hurt.”

“So why the weapons?”

“These men are highly skilled. They look as though they are attacking each other with weapons, but none ever strikes home. It is like a dance, but highly disciplined.”

“So what is the point of it?”

“What is the point of any art? When a painter makes a portrait, what is it for but to be looked at? When a musician plays his instrument, what is it for but to be listened to? This is the same. It is an art form to be appreciated, but is also an indispensable part of our cultural environment – like Kathakali.”

“Kathakali I understand. It tells a story. Even though I am not from this region, I can learn some of its history from the Kathakali and from other dramatic works. This fighting, even if it tells me that the practitioners are incredibly skilled and disciplined, gives me no real information.”

“I have another reason for coming, too.”

“What is that?”

“You see those two in the arena now?”

“What of them?”

“The guy on the left is my cousin Krishnan; the other is another cousin, Ramesh.”


“Don’t mock me, Sanyam. Do me one favour, will you?”

“What favour?”

“Hold my phone for me. No, hold it up in front of you so I can see the picture on it. That’s it. Keep It there.”

“Okay, but why?”

“Because when they are in exactly the same positions as in that picture, I want to take a photograph with my camera.”

“Again, why?”

“Because Krishnan likes that photo and has asked me for a copy. I need to make it exactly the same, otherwise it won’t be a true copy, will it? Nearly the same isn’t good enough.”

“Tell me, Rajan, how many photos do you have on that phone?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Probably hundreds, maybe even thousands. It isn’t a new phone, you know. I am not like you, I can’t afford a new phone every year.”

“Okay, but what happens if your phone has a problem and you lose your photos?”

“It’s okay. I would be able to get them back again. They are all backed up to the cloud.”

“How would you get them back?”

“Just copy them from my computer.”

“How? Is your computer in the cloud, too?”

“Not exactly, but something like. My computer synchronises with my cloud account.”

“Now, don’t take this personally, Rajan, but I think you’re missing something here.”


“If you have these photos on your computer, why can’t you just email them to your cousins.”

“I think it is you that are missing something, Sanyam. He doesn’t want a copy of what is on my computer, he wants a copy of the picture that is on my phone. Now hold it still, we’re almost there.”

I wrote this in response to Kreative Kue 174, issued on this site earlier this week. Feel free to join in; just follow the link.

Over ‘ere, son. On me ‘ead.

“So… what’s the boss doing today, Hobie?”

“You’ve asked the right Labrador, Flash. I know all about this”


“I listened in while the boss was talking to his mate about it.”

“You mean the mistress?”

“That’s the only mate the boss has.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Did you wink at me then, Flash? I didn’t know dogs could wink. Anyway, let me tell you something about humans. According to the sacred texts, they mate for life and have a monogamous relationship.”

“And if they want to spread their genes further than just one mate?”

“Then the pair-bond would be broken, and that never goes well. But I know for sure the boss doesn’t do that.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Well, remember the human we used to live with?”

“The one that’s in a rescue centre now?”

“Yes, only it’s not a rescue centre, it’s a prison.”

“What’s the difference?”

“You don’t get rescued. Simple as.”

“What about him?”

“I could always tell when he had mated with another female.”


“You, Flash, have extremely good eyesight; that’s your strength. I’m practically blind, but by golly, my nose makes up for it.”

“So you’re saying…”

“I’m saying that the boss only ever mates with the mistress.”

“Alright. So what did you hear about what he’s doing today?”

“You remember that young kestrel the boss brought home, the one he keeps in the aviary next to the redtail?”


“And you know he’s been training it up and exercising it to get it ready to go free?”

“I know all that.”

“Well, he reckons it’s nearly ready to go. Today’s lesson is teaching it to hover—”

“Like kestrels do…”

“Yeah – it’s how they hunt. But he told the mistress that he can’t let it go free until he knows that it can do that.”

“So how’s he plan to teach it to hover? He can hardly explain it with diagrams, can he?”

“The plan, he said, is to cast it into the field, the call it back with the whistle for a bit of food. Then, just as it’s ready to drop onto his fist to claim the reward, he’s gonna hide it. The kestrel’s supposed to hover and look for it, and as soon as it does, he’ll bring the food out again.”

“That sounds like a plan, but is he sure the bird’s smart enough to know that?”

“Let’s watch – well, you watch, I’ll listen. Out it goes, into the field … whistle … the bird comes back and… hide the food.”

“Erm, Hobie…”


“Does the master know he’s got a kestrel on his head?”

“Has he?”

“Yes. As soon as he hid the food, the bird landed in his hair. You don’t suppose it’ll build a nest in there, do you?”

“I doubt it, but it tells us one thing. We didn’t need to wonder if the bird’s smart enough to work out what the master’s doing.”

“If I stand here and give him the look, d’you suppose the master’ll toss me a bit of the bird’s food?”

“Probably, Flash. He knows you’ll catch it, and he likes to end on a high.”

I wrote this in response to Kreative Kue 173, issued on this site earlier this week. Feel free to join in; just follow the link.