'Who's my precious Mug-pot, who's my little Memory-man?'

WORDS WORTH/BOOK EXTRACT

The last Harry Potter book in the series is creating a huge buzz even before it is released, and, with adults re-visiting adolescent fiction, this book, with contributions from eight writers, should get the adrenalin pumping with its juvenile tales of unusual superhero fiction. Here, an excerpt from Sampurna Chattarji's "The Archrival of Amnesia and Captain Blotto's Wonder-drink".

Meanwhile, Rehaan had begun realising what he was capable of. He had always thought that everyone remembered everything the way he did, so he was surprised when he saw his mother making lists before going to the supermarket for her monthly shopping.

'Why are you writing down what you already know you need to buy?' he asked her, hanging over the back of her chair and jogging her hand as he did so.

'Because, sweets, I may forget by the time I get there.'

'How can that happen?' Rehaan asked.

'I'm growing old, my dear,' his mother said with a laugh. 'These grey cells growing rusty.'

'Do older people forget more?' Rehaan asked.

'I guess,' said his mother, going back to writing her very long list.

'Tell me what you're writing,' Rehaan said. 'I can be your list.'

'Oh, do be quiet for a bit, pet, I might forget what I want to write down,' his mother said, not really listening any more.

So Rehaan hung over the back of her chair and looked at what she was writing. There were seventy-two things, including stuff he had no idea had any use (or what kind of use). And just to prove to his mother that he could be her list instead of that piece of paper you could easily forget to take with you to the market, he decided to go with her.

'No, Rehaan, you'll just get in the way. Stay home and I'll be back quicker than a Domino's delivery man.'

'I promise I won't get in the way. Please, please, Mummy, just once!'

And because Rehaan's mother had far too much to do to waste any more time trying to coax her very determined little son to stay home, she took Rehaan with her to the hyper-mart. They went by car, Rehaan silently and unconsciously remembering each and every numberplate, every shop sign, every landmark, every song on the radio, until they arrived at the giant mall with one floor dedicated only to shoes and another to food. Rehaan's mother got a trolley and Rehaan got himself ready to reel off the things on the list before she could ""

'Shoot! Now look what you've done! You've made me forget the dashed list!'(Aha!)

And Rehaan's mother, who was otherwise very sweet and sensible, glared at her son as if he was the culprit.

'It doesn't matter, Mummy,' he said as innocently as he could (goody goody good now he would show her what he meant). 'I remember your list.'

'Oh, don't get on my nerves!' she snapped. 'There were a hundred things on it at least!'

'Seventy-two," Rehaan said. 'Liquid detergent, bathroom scrubber, Henko, Harpic, Genteel, Garden Namkeen, Barilla macaroni, Magic Wipes, moong dal two kgs, moomphali 500 grams, watermelon one, bananas one dozen, potatoes two kgs, PermaBleach, shampoo, Satinelle, tissue paper, tamp""'

'Stop!'

Rehaan stopped.

'You're embarrassing me. Start again but softly! Don't want the world to think your mother's a nutcase, do you?'

And with that Rehaan and his mother began shopping for the seventy-two items on the missing list, not one of which Rehaan forgot.

On the way back, they were both quiet. Rehaan, because he was eating a giant cassata and his mother, because she was thinking.

'How long have you known?' she finally said.

'Knerphumph?' Rehaan said.

'Don't talk with your mouth full,' his mother said, absent-mindedly. 'That you could remember so many things...'

'Aspheresikembr,' Rehaan said.

'Hmm,' Rehaan's mother said and went back to being quiet.

Rehaan's father's response was much more dramatic.

'Who's my precious Mug-pot, who's my little Memory-man, who's my Mister Mnemonic?' he said entering the house and flinging his laptop on the sofa the way they showed in ad films. (Rehaan's father worked in ad films, writing them and wishing he could act in the scripts he wrote.)

'Huh?' Rehaan said.

'Oh come on, Rehu, don't pretend. Mummy told me all about your memory trick. Must be all that fish your mother used to eat when she was carrying you. Brainfood. Clever Mummy. Now you can make us into the millionaires we've always wanted to be! Neha-a-a-a!'

And Rehaan's father went looking for Rehaan's mother, while Rehaan went back to reading the book he would soon know by heart. The book was titled Why Volcanoes Never Burst When You Expect Them To.