Random Sketches By R.K Laxman

 
 
 
 
It talked to me and I listened quietly… it talked about the rugged old path that awaits coming of the travellers… travellers who are in the search for a new land and a new sky, a fresh start full of hope; the smoothened grass and dry pebbles, the inquisitive birds and the pleasant wind, the old temple and the thatched huts all count the footsteps and welcome the happy hubbub.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It talked about the decrepit palaces hiding its mysterious past from the sharp gazes, waiting for the patient one to stop by. The glorious lives and horrific battles have so much to share.
 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
The flora and fauna sang a soulful tune, absorbed in it and lost in the moment. The jungle painted the sky with leaves.
 
 

 

 

 

 

 
 
It talked about the people, their traditions, their beliefs and their stories; that look, that frown, that toothless smile, that gnarled nod and the dancing feet spoke to me and I listened quietly.
 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
And I found out then, how magical the ordinary is.
 
 
 

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