‘That is the throne of the great king Zaa,’ father said to his little boy, pointing to an elegant throne kept in a huge glass case.
The father and the son were visiting the royal museum in this unfamiliar country in central Asia.
The son looked at the throne; he seemed unconvinced.
‘Are they sure?’ asked the son.
‘Why do you say that? In this country they revere Zaa as if he was a god. Everything that he had used is held in very high esteem by these people. This is a precious throne and in fact, once in a year, they pray before it. Many have people have tried to steal it. You see that glass case; it can withstand even a nuclear bomb.’
‘But something is wrong; this can’t be the throne of that great king.’
‘You mean they are fooling everyone with a fake.’
‘I don’t know; but I am certain that Zaa could have not used that throne.’
Father felt amused; how could this little boy be so sure that it was not Zaa’s throne?
‘You recall what the guide had said,’ asked the boy.
Father looked askance at him.
‘He had said that Zaa was a huge man, he was a giant and weighed about four hundred pounds. Now, how can a huge man weighing that much sit on a throne as small as that one?’ the son said, pointing to the throne in the case.
‘I think…..’ the father stopped abruptly.
A couple of local officials were talking in hushed tones; they were looking at the little boy with suspicious, angry eyes.
A post for Sunday PhotoFiction.