Bare Tongue

It was a killing line. Walking on razor wire, when toes would not leave the sky and heels will not touch the ground. Myths and legends were becoming a witchcraft. Are you ready to eschew the classical script and write a new fable, about a life size robot, who will speak for millions and put his signature on the wall of a dying moon for the sake of blue clouds ? The caldron is empty. No body was throwing any baby in it. Stay still. The bold instincts will come back with vengeance. Satish Verma