Golconda Fort, Hyderabad, India | © Google Maps
Hussain stared with more than just a hint of nostalgia at the serrated ramparts of the sprawling fort. Once the cynosure of all eyes, it was reduced to a relic, a derelict piece of jagged architecture that did not warrant a second glance let alone a lingering stare. Even the customary motley crowd of tourists was dwindling rapidly. The only visitors were the despoilers and ‘amateur sculptors’ who employing rough and rudimentary tools ranging from sharp stones to knock off versions of Swiss Army Knives, carved into the walls, their blotched tales of jilted love and the names of their ungrateful lovers.
What had withstood even the ravages of time and weather was now a victim of human intransigence.
Untenanted squares of grass resembling generous oases in a barren desert, reminded Hussain that in a digital world monarchy was not the only anachronism. Values were too.
(Word Count: 142)
This has been an edition of What Pegman Saw
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