The wounded Donkey in the heart of the Tughlaq fort. He was bleeding, legs tied with a rope... yet he enjoyed eating the grass... The sun was setting, i tried my best to spot Qutab minar. As we walked inside the prison cells, she said - i hope u are carying your Kirpan. All around delhi moved in all directions. A fortress laid far away on the other side of the road.
I wish i could do something for the Poor donkey. Tamura she yelled and my chopstick legs started running towards the car. The sun ran away to the other side. We were in traffic. I thougth of the innocent sweet donkey. Would he spent the night tied up like this inside the deserted fort. He is so lucky to spend the night under such a vast sky, yet in bondage of his ignorant owner.
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