SHER IMDAD ALI'S TADPOLE But, on the half-open lotus in that mean-eyed grey pond, there was a bloom that could put rainbows in any pair of eyes. And then there was the inviting water .... He couldn't fight that magic's pull. Stepping out of his clothes, he jumped into the stagnant water, to land crashing among the weeds. ^ A million tailed larvae of clamorous frogs-soft and raw-headed like a week-old fetus-shot off in all directions, panicked by the crash of shark-waves. Now he was in -- Sher Imdad Ali --up to his chin; the lotus was far away. Lightning flashed. A tiny tadpole -- with the speed of a rotund baloon let go from hand -- shot down his gaping mouth's tunnel, seething like a lizard's saber-tongue. Days passed; seasons changed; years went by. A voice keeps hounding him: "Let me out! Let me out of this dungeon!" He let himself be scorched by the cool X-ray beams of a dozen medical teams; he changed towns; he changed countries. 22