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Literature, PoetryAugust 12, 2015

Feynman’s Vaudevillian Dream of the Hardy-Ramanujan Number

Time Tales by Omar Farid. Image Courtesy: ArtChowk Gallery

Time Tales by Omar Farid. Image Courtesy: ArtChowk Gallery

Surely Mr.Feynman, you’ve heard of Kumbakonam?
—Bongo drums?
No, no—my hometown, Kumbakonam. I’ve brought you its famous sathukudis.
—But I thought the tuberculosis killed you?
It did. *coughs blood* Now let me try chalking one of those diagrams of yours…what do you think?
—Splendid!
Why, thank you Mr.Feynman, I’m glad you approve of my drawing skills—if I weren’t a mathematician, I’d have likely been an architect—or a puppeteer at the least
—I *sheepish* was actually referring to your fruit—the, the…well it’s yummy all the same.
Oh that—*a little disappointed*— I’ll bring you jackfruit the next time around
— Jackfruit?
I’ve already explained it to Hardy
—Laurel and Hardy?
My mentor—G.H.Hardy; the guy who had me shipped to England, it was the number of his taxi cab—ayirathi ezhunuthi irubathi omb…
—I thought it morbid at first
The number?
—I meant the anecdote; the numbers eating you from within; your cube roots of solitude, bed and bouillon
But I had no choice, Mr.Feynman; there were…
—Please call me Dick
…no sathukudis in Putney, Dick. Who’s Champollion? *tap dancing*
—And obviously, no taxi cabs in your—damn!—what was the name again? keeps
reminding me of bongo drums—you ever play bongo drums?
I’ve never had rum
—but hold on; I asked you about jackfruit; or was it starfish?
Yes, definitely an interesting one, but also an “unfavorable omen”, as Hardy put it
—The tuberculosis?
The starfish. I saw it on an English beach one frigid morning. Its five arms splitting me like five infinities
—No doubt—starfish make for excellent cabbies
*Dusts his chalky hands and admires his Diagram*
—Is dying yummy?
I miss Laurel and Hardy

~ Arjun Rajendran

Arjun Rajendran‘s first collection of poems, ‘SNAKE WINE’, was published by the Zaporogue Press last year. His work has recently appeared at AntiSerious and in The Bombay Literary Magazine.

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One last love letter...

April 24, 2021

It has taken us some time and patience to come to this decision. TMS would not have seen the success that it did without our readers and the tireless team that ran the magazine for the better part of eight years.

But… all good things must come to an end, especially when we look at the ever-expanding art and literary landscape in Pakistan, the country of the magazine’s birth.

We are amazed and proud of what the next generation of creators are working with, the themes they are featuring, and their inclusivity in the diversity of voices they are publishing. When TMS began, this was the world we envisioned…

Though the magazine has closed and our submissions shuttered, this website will remain open for the foreseeable future as an archive of the great work we published and the astounding collection of diverse voices we were privileged to feature.

If, however, someone is interested in picking up the baton, please email Maryam Piracha, the editor, at maryamp@themissingslate.com.

Farewell, fam! It’s been quite a ride.

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