My first short story wins a prize
My first short story Crossing the Road “Rasta cross karate?” he asked in his vanishing little voice. Amidst the maddening yelp of the traffic and the incessant bark of the sun, I dismissed his half-heard appeal, thinking it to be an attempt to inveigle money from me. Ignoring him I walked past. But the shock of recognition made me turn back. “That scrawny little guttersnipe, was he really the city of Nizam”, I asked myself. In his flimsy and thin hair I could make out a strand or two of the nights when Musi’s rage had over flown her banks. Somewhere far and distant into his eyes I could catch an evanescent glimmer of moonlight reflected from the chowmahalla palace. From his cloud-capped eyes occasionally rained tiny tinkles of feminine laughter. Perhaps he was reminiscing the time spent at his harem. His clothes though all torn and tattered, were held together by the intricately woven saracenic arches. In warps of the threads I could perceive the curlicues of quranic phrases. The
