This small space had become a second home…better than the broken, crumbling walls in the remote village he had spend 20 long years in.
Cramped behind the old walls hid his famous face. The reconstructed interiors which once were the home of nationalists, was now his lair…hopefully for a long time.
He never enjoyed these rare interactions with the kafirs* or those who professed to follow his religion… the paper rustled in his neighbour’s hands.
What stumped him however, was one of his brethren’s question "Would you like fries with that?"... on reading aloud the headlines on the front page ‘High Court upholds Kasab’s* death sentence.’
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Glad you made it this far...would love to hear your take on the words scribbled. A comment every now and then keeps the blues away. :D
Since, crazy Mr. Blogspot won't let me reply to the comments here (is upset with the water ladies ever since they refused to verify visitors)...will do the next best thing, drop in to your blog to say my Vanakkam/Namaste/Salaam/Hello.