which may have been published. I was told that on-the-spot registration could be done.” “So you want to read your own paper. No problem, Sir. We have both the options. Those scholars (she put stress on the word 'scholars') who want to have a 5-minute ready-made paper to read at the Seminar can pay the measly amount of ten thousand rupees and have a paper on any of the sub-themes from us. Actually, the University has outsourced this facility to us. We are a leading outsourcing agency for making research papers available to Seminar participants in India at a modest price of 10,000rupees on any subject,” informed the twenty-something with a smile and in a honeyed voice. The truth was gradually beginning to register itself on Dr Bhaskar's senses by slow degrees. “Oh, is that it! But where can I pay for my registration, ma'am? She pointed towards the desk on the opposite side, with a smile, of course. Dr Bhaskar took a bird's eye view of the room. The room was lined with chairs fixed close to the walls. There were three large desks in the room. You have already discovered the first one. The opposite desk was registration desk. Next to it was actually a large table around which sat four girls. The table was full with sling bags. Dr Bhaskar paid the registration amount, collected the Seminar kit but decided to wait in one of the chairs as he was there full forty minutes before the Inaugural would begin. Gradually, many young and not so young scholar- participants started entering the room and made a queue before Desk 193 Short Stories No1. Dr Bhaskar found he was curious about the whole thing. The lady- with-a-honeyed-voice gave each one of them a form to fill in. They used those chairs to fill those forms and returned them to the lady. She requested them to wait. Within a few minutes, she started calling out the names. The scholars received some neatly typed pages, paid ten thousand rupees each and went back to their chairs to wait for the entry sign. Soon two attractive girls in red-bordered, cream-coloured silken saris and a boy appeared and stationed themselves near the entrance door. The boy had a thali on which was placed kumkum and akshat. The galz asked the scholar-participants to allow them to place kumkum and akshat on their foreheads and uttered 'Welcome Sir and Welcome Ma'am' in good English. Dr Bhaskar was impressed with this blending of the orient and the occident. As there were still a good twenty minutes for the function to begin, he decided to check in the washroom and then have a quick coffee at the coffee counter in the adjacent building.It was a two-day Inter- Galactic Seminar on African literature in English, being organized by RJM University, one of the poshest private universities located on the Agra-Jaipur highway. RJM University was among the few private universities that had, besides the core faculties in Management and the various engineering branches, a robust Humanities and Social Sciences faculty, too. Its building could put the shiniest mall in Bangalore to shame. It had an auditorium much larger than the cinema halls in the multi-plexes in any metro city. The audio system in the auditorium could beat the best Dolby system. Don't be surprised by the expression 'Inter- Galactic'. Actually, in 2035 the term 'International' attached before every Seminar had grown stale due to overuse and the organizers of Seminars had to invent a new term. These days Seminars were fast catching up with the new revolutionary description tag and the term 'Inter-Galactic' was becoming popular. It was the Inaugural first day of this Inter- Galactic Seminar on African Literature in English. After having kumkum dot and akshat on his forehead by the welcoming galz, Bhaskar entered the auditorium and looked for an empty seat as the auditorium was almost packed to capacity. He wondered at the academic zeal of the scholar-participants. These days few films ran to full houses. That this auditorium had, on a rough estimate, more than