The Knight’s Legend

Seventy years of his life spawns a 

flashback in the background

as he sips a cup of coffee in the verandah. 

His grandsons request him

to narrate a fairytale;

with a giggle on his face and resilience

in his heart

he tells his grandsons that life is not a fairytale. 

So, he narrates them the tale of a knight

whose sword was his pen, 

atween every battle and victory

lied his spirit of perseverance

his first counter with miseries was at twenty, 

when life wrecked havoc

on his mellow youth;

unable to find a comrade in the battlefield

he took out his pen 

and waved like a sword in the field

he used to fall atleast ten times before conquering

a fort in the battle and his wounds

were his greatest witness. 

Years later;

from The Paris Review to The New Yorker, 

from The Washington Times to The Sydney Morning Herald

all heaped praises on his tale… 

perhaps, it was only he himself who knew

how many drops of blood he lost until it became a sea of legend for him.