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ESSO
MOOSO & JOOSO From
a life of harsh reality let us here escape into the realm of fantasy. It
only can provide a relief from the tedium of humdrum existence, a breather
in some sublime world visualised only in dreams; a fantasised experience
comparable perhaps to the adventures of Alice in Wonderland complete with
the Mad Hatter, the March Hare and the inescapable White Rabbit. Here is
something on a lighter note for what it is worth:
As
in Christianity, where we have the trinity of the Father, the Son and the
Holy Ghost; in Hinduism; Brahma, Vishnu and Shanker (Siva); in English
language, we have Tom, Dick and Harry; in Gujerati we have Hoo’n, Too’n
an’e Ratanyo; in Arabic we have Soommoon, Bookmoon and Um’yun. In each
case a triumvirate. No record of the Memons would be complete without
relating the tale of Essa, Moosa and Joosa, a triumvirate akin to Memons.
Essa,
Moosa and Joosa were to be found in every sizeable cluster of Memons the
world over. However, the group in Ranavav had gained some notoriety. They
had foisted an experience, which seemed to be sucked from the thumb, on a
gullible society. They averred that they were on their way to Africa when
they were shipwrecked and managed to survive on planks that bore them to a
shore of a forlorn and a desolate island where they were marooned for
umpteen years. One
day while strolling on the beach they came across an opaque flask re-sembling
a Chevas Regal or a Dimple bottle but somewhat larger. The flask was neatly
sealed with a cork and sealing wax with a huge mound of string tightly wound
around the cork. The trio sat about opening the flask which to all intents
and purpose seemed empty but somewhat weighty. After a great deal of sruggle,
when they had it opened, a huge mound of bellowing black smoke emanated from
it and ascended skyward. When the smoke reached a certain height it took a
form, resembling a jinn (genie), we read about in a fairy tales. The form
let off a guffaw, which made our trio tremble with fear. When the laughter
had subsided, the jinn(genie) confided to our mass of trembling jellyfish
that he had been lured into the flask by a dervish, a wizard or a
witchdoctor and held in captivity for some centuries. He was grateful to the
trio for releasing him from his confinement where he was powerless. And for
so doing, he was going to grant, each of them one single wish. They could
wish for anything and he was sure it would be fulfilled.
He
had hardly finished, when Essa let it be known that it was his wish to be
with his family and his little shop. “So be it”, said the jinn and
‘poof’ Essa was whisked away to his destination.
Moosa
then expressed his desire to get to his family and the farm. “So be it\
uttered the Jinn, and Moosa disappeared into the thin air, and was taken to
his place of abode.
It
was then the turn of our Joosa. Now we all know that Joosas, the world-over,
are mischievous by nature and often downright irksome. He actually sent the
jinn reeling when he expressed his wish. His wish was that he did not wish
to go anywhere and he wanted his two friends back as he was feeling lonely.
The jinn (genie) had to comply, albeit reluctantly to that wish, as
promised. The two cronies were back in an instance, completely unaware of
what had transpired. They were completely bamboozled and baffled by the turn
of events. They could elicit no explanation from the jinn, as he had
disappeared, having accorded his gratitude. The bland expression on
Joosa’s face betrayed no possible justification for the complete reversal
of the outcome. It was many years later that a ship came to that island and
rescued our unfortunate brethren so that they could live to tell the woeful
tale. Amen. Extract from: “End of the Road”
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