Muhammad Sadiq

'The look on boy's face was dauntless; his face, the sweat, the tinge on his cheeks, the unkempt hair, everything ran waves of infatuation in the chattering women. He knew he was expected to win, that all eyes were on him, that hordes of enemies should not relent his valor, that the sweat trickling down his hair should not slacken his faith.....or else'





'The haggard and decrepit warrior was still fighting. All these great years he had learned to keep his nerves calm in the worst of hours. He smiled smugly to the death that he saw coming, his eyes brazen with the light of a thousand wars he had fought, his body word out, but still agile and reactive.
He knew he was inching his death, but nowhere was the presence of those who cackled on his victories. He was but an impostor, with a smile on his face that reminded him of his first victory, and taunted him of his great friends. he was dead way before the foes could pierce his battered body.'

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