Chitradurga Fort

Forts have always held fascination - more so as I grow older. I am less engrossed by tales of valor, heroism, less awe struck by the immensity of ambitious architecture, and more intrigued by the spaces that men carve out - to protect themeselves. Forts these days are metaphors of all kinds of parallel realities that we build within, but hesitate to conquer. I sang with Kumar Gandharv 'Shoonya Gadh Shahar...' (Desolate Fort, City..) as I wandered around the Chitradurga Fort yesterday. I did not read the usual historical description, listen to almost mythical stories, pause at the romance that only bygone days evoke; all forts abound in these. I was filled by the nothingness that it was reduced to - all that men fought to protect, or sought to overthrow. The breeze was stiff - the warm afternoon was filled with waving tall grass, leaves rustling to gusty roars, and a standing stiff, upright, with the excitement of being almost blown away. It was this constant 'blown away' that yesterday invoked most, as I wandered through the abandoned fort of Chitrdurga.