by austere seeker
From cream-silk covered walls at the hotel, sepia portraits of kings and chieftains, gem-encrusted swords and assorted daggers in hand, look down upon at the world at large. Disdain, whimsy and a fine temper. Intricate pen etchings, with the names of the rulers in a sycophantic flourish. His Excellency so-and-so. Foreigners in Brooks Brothers black rush past, panting as they chase yesterday's yen with a Blackberry. Kings, Englishmen, and the mad march of time.
austere seeker, author of Red, lives, works, and writes in Mumbai.