100 Days
I write of a man in the 21st century, and because every character in a story must have a name, I shall call him Alladin. The name sounds familiar to you, and so shall the story, except that it is not a fairy tale, because fairies exist in dreams and the world is too real to be dreaming. Like every common man, Alladin too was a man with strong desires, big and small, real and virtual, good and bad. And just like a mosquito who does not know of any harm he causes to anyone else, Alladin was ready to bite, unaware of it though. Other than his dreams and desires, he also had friends, family, neighbors and the rest of world, just like everyone else does. One day, on a hot afternoon, while traveling on the highway, Alladin found a lamp lying in sand on side of the road, scorching under the sun, and shining as bright as gold. As he pulled over, lifted the lamp and rubbed it to remove the patches of dirt that seemed to have covered it for centuries, smoke appeared, out came a genie and Alladin