I am reminded of Albert Camus’ choice of Death as his subject for the first novel he worked on, wrote and revised but did not publish. Instead, we had ” The Stranger.”

I am musing on the same subject and will, perhaps, be able to pen it down in a form that you may appreciate … The work on Kalinjar Fort is still in the making; there are too connections in time and space, events and people, to include.

In the meanwhile, I am re-blogging Thus Spake Shiva, The Tramp … for those who missed or gave it a miss the last time.



Truth Within, Shines Without

A tramp alright

I am, young man, 

But come, hear me out…

I’m one and One

At once, it’s clear

Of that there is no doubt

Let’s look at each

Here face to face

Pick the truths we live by

For my matted locks

Are a world apart

From your Olay face refined.

Truth be told

It’s crutches you hold –

Cheque books, cash cards


And the web worldwide

Your palace – in – fief

The Saville suit

And girls crashing

For your tick

Or mere pass by

Or the staff starched

And groomed to serve

A brat that feels

His Highness big

A lord of own pig sty

Then, that chauffer yonder

Who defers to you

Regards you too

As a helpless fool

Who owns the shining cadillac.

Truth be told

These are the crutches you hold –

For proof, young man

If you were to lose


View original post 1,549 more words


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s