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Winston Churchill (novelist)
(Nov. 10, 1871 – Mar. 12, 1947)
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
For the literary career of the British statesman of the same name, see Winston Churchill as writer.

Born November 10, 1871
St. Louis, Missouri, US
Died March 12, 1947 (aged 75)
Winter Park, Florida, US
Occupation Novelist, writer
Genre
Non-fiction
Short story
Historical fiction
Notable works
Mr. Crewe's Career
Mr. Keegan's Elopement
Coniston
The Crossing
A Far Country
A Traveller In War-Time
Spouse Mabel Harlakenden Hall

​(m. 1895; died 1945)​
Children 3
Winston Churchill (November 10, 1871 – March 12, 1947) was an American best-selling novelist of the early 20th century.

He is nowadays overshadowed, even as a writer, by the more famous British statesman of the same name, to whom he was not closely related.

Early life
Churchill was born in St. Louis, Missouri, the son of Edward Spalding Churchill by his marriage to Emma Bell Blaine. He attended Smith Academy in Missouri and the United States Naval Academy, where he graduated in 1894. At the Naval Academy, he was conspicuous in scholarship and also in general student activities. He became an expert fencer and he organized at Annapolis the first eight-oared crew, which he captained for two years. After graduation he became an editor of the Army and Navy Journal. He resigned from the U.S. Navy to pursue a writing career. In 1895, he became managing editor of the Cosmopolitan Magazine, but in less than a year he retired from that, to have more time for writing.[1] While he would be most successful as a novelist, he was also a published poet and essayist.

Career
His first novel to appear in book form was The Celebrity (1898). However, Mr. Keegan's Elopement had been published in 1896 as a magazine serial and was republished as an illustrated hardback book in 1903. Churchill's next novel—Richard Carvel (1899) — was a phenomenal success. The novel was the third best-selling work of American fiction in 1899 and eighth-best in 1900, according to Alice Hackett's 70 Years of Best Sellers. It sold some two million copies in a nation of only 76 million people, and made Churchill rich. His other commercially successful novels included The Crisis (1901), The Crossing (1904), Coniston (1906), Mr. Crewe's Career (1908) and The Inside of the Cup (1913), all of which ranked first on the best-selling American novel list in the years indicated.[2]

Churchill's early novels were historical, but his later works were set in contemporary America. He often sought to include his political ideas into his novels.


Churchill at his home, Windsor, Vermont
In 1898, Churchill commissioned Charles Platt to design a mansion in Cornish, New Hampshire. Churchill moved there the following year and named it Harlakenden House. From 1913 to 1915, he leased it to Woodrow Wilson, who used it as his summer residence. Churchill became involved in the Cornish Art Colony and went into politics, winning election to the state legislature in 1903 and 1905.[3] In 1906, he unsuccessfully sought the Republican nomination for governor of New Hampshire. In 1912, he was nominated as the Progressive candidate for governor but did not win the election and did not seek public office again. In 1917, he toured the battlefields of World War I and wrote his first non-fiction work about what he saw.

Sometime after the move to Cornish, he took up painting in watercolors and became known for his landscapes. Some of his works are in the collections of the Hood Museum of Art (part of Hopkins Center for the Arts at Dartmouth College) in Hanover, New Hampshire, and the Saint-Gaudens National Historic Site in Cornish, New Hampshire.

In 1919, Churchill decided to stop writing and withdrew from public life. He was gradually forgotten by the public. In 1923, Harlakenden House burned down. The Churchills moved to an 1838 Federal estate, part of the Cornish Colony called Windfield House (now called Hillside) at 23 Freeman Road in Plainfield, furnishing it with items saved from the fire.[4] In 1940, The Uncharted Way, his first book in twenty years, was published. The book examined Churchill's thoughts on religion. He did not seek to publicize the book and it received little attention. Shortly before his death, he said, "It is very difficult now for me to think of myself as a writer of novels, as all that seems to belong to another life."

Death
Churchill died in Winter Park, Florida, in 1947 of a heart attack. He was predeceased in 1945 by his wife of fifty years, the former Mabel Harlakenden Hall.[5] He is featured on a New Hampshire historical marker (number 16) along New Hampshire Route 12A in Cornish.[6]

Churchill and his wife had three children. Their son John Dwight Winston Churchill was married to Mary Deshon Hand, daughter of Judge Learned Hand.[7] Another son Creighton Churchill was a well-known writer on wines.[8][9] Journalist Chris Churchill of Albany, New York is his great-grandson.[10]

The British statesman
In the 1890s, Churchill's writings first came to be confused with those of the British writer with the same name. At that time, the American was the much better known of the two, and it was the Englishman who wrote to his American counterpart about the confusion their names were causing among their readers.[11]

They agreed that the British Churchill should adopt the pen name "Winston Spencer Churchill", using his full surname, "Spencer-Churchill". After a few early editions this was abbreviated to "Winston S. Churchill"—which remained the British Churchill's pen name. The two men arranged to meet on two occasions when one of them happened to be in the other's country, but were never closely acquainted.[12]

Their lives had some other coincidental parallels. They both gained their tertiary education at service colleges and briefly served (during the same period) as officers in their respective countries' armed forces (one was a naval officer, the other an army officer). Both Churchills were keen amateur painters, as well as writers. Both were also politicians, although the British Churchill's political career was far more illustrious.[13]

Works
Novels
Mr. Keegan's Elopement in magazine format (1896)
The Celebrity (1898)
Richard Carvel (1899)
The Crisis (1901)
Mr. Keegan's Elopement in hardback (1903)
The Crossing (1904)
Coniston (1906)
Mr. Crewe's Career (1908)
A Modern Chronicle (1910)
The Inside of the Cup (1913)
A Far Country (1915)
The Dwelling-Place of Light (1917)
Other writings
Richard Carvel; Play produced on Broadway, (1900–1901)
The Crisis; Play produced on Broadway, (1902)
The Crossing; Play produced on Broadway, (1906)
The Title Mart; Play produced on Broadway, (1906)
A Traveller In War-Time (1918)
Dr. Jonathan; A play in three acts (1919)
The Uncharted Way (1940)
Yenson Aug 2018
Why hold me responsible for the bad choices you made
Why make me a scapegoat for all your mistakes
Why vent your spleen on me
Why blame me for your inadequacies and insecurities
Why project your arrogance and ignorance on me
Then deviously politicize your shortcomings

" There but for the Grace of God goes I"

I walked each day to school with sandals held together with rubber bands
I received six of the best for un-submitted assignments or getting answers wrong, or misbehaving or not having required tools
I stayed up nights after nights studying for most-pass exams
I forego parties and relaxing outings to stay behind and study
I left home at 17 to another Country without my parents to continue

I saw my 18 year age mates owning cars, driving around having fun
I did not resent them or envied them, stole from them or burgled their houses.
I saw successful young men in their 20s and 30s running businesses
doing well, I did not resent or envy them or stole anything from them or burgled their houses.
Rather I thought, if I worked hard, get my degree, get a job, I too will
one day, be like them.

While studying I worked as a casual staff in Night Bakeries, in 24
Hours Car Parks
In Night Factories sorting rags for cleaning machinery.
I had college mates going to Disco and having fun, going to pubs
and having fun
I did not resent or envy them, I just thought soon, if all goes well
I'll be able to join them or do fun things too.

I put in the shrift and the graft, I made ****** sacrifices, I paid my
dues and earned my spurs
Then when I got my job, my car, a wife and success.

You and your indulgent, insolent, arrogant disaffected malcontents
with your strangulated anodyne corrupted version of Socialism
come along.
Justifying Theft and indulgent anti social behavior, screaming
Privilege, Silver spoon and Inequality and Greed.
Prattling " There but for the Grace of God goes I"
Because I told thieves and Scroungers what to do with themselves.
You talked of trading places and went on to destroyed every thing
I worked hard for and stood for.

Churchill quoted " "Socialism is a philosophy of failure, the creed of ignorance, and the gospel of envy, its inherent virtue is the equal sharing of misery." - Winston Churchill.

He was so right and you and your despicable gangs have proved it.
The Modern world is no longer falling for your crazy ideaology
and you and your deluded ideas will soon be forever in opposition

And my only consolation is, apart from still standing after all the unjust and horrendous things you've done to me and my wife

NOT ONE SINGLE ONE OF YOU CAN EVER BE THE MAN I AM

You know it and I know it and there lots out  there that knows it  too

SHAME, SHAME, SHAME ON YOU......
Just what do we know about
Ward Churchill?
That radical agitator,
That Colorado college professor
Most famous for calling
Twin Tower 9/11 dead technocrats
Little Eichmanns.

Noteworthy is the fact that
The United States Supreme Court
Denied certiorari,
Passed on hearing his claim of
Unlawful discharge.
Unlawful discharge?
Sounds felonious and vile:
Like pus laced with *****,
A criminal secretion, like mucus
Smuggled past Customs:
Vaginal contraband.

Sorry, Ward.
We just don’t give a ****.
Your fake Indian pedigree,
Your bogus Vietnam fairytales,
Your phony combat record,
Your forward ops recon
Way out in ******* Cambodia,
Fall flat like Buffalo turds.
You’ve been slick, Ward.
Hired originally to fill
Some gratuitous affirmative action quota,
Denied tenure in two legitimate departments,
You create some ******* academic discipline
For campus freaks & geeks.
Self-appointed Department Chairman,
A fraudulent college professor from the start,
Once tenured, a courageous warrior for free speech.
Describing Native American history as genocide.
Summing up American history as Holocaust denial.
Professor Churchill was all of these things,
And less.
But using the Holocaust metaphor
To anchor one’s fakakta politics?
That was the proverbial last straw,
The camel buster, if you will.
Especially since most of the
Stockbrokers & market analysts
Crushed in the rubble were Jewish.
Hava Nagila, Babaloo!
Lawrence Hall Jun 2019
To be chanted whenever the O Machine 1 fails:

Rumor has it that the Enigma
Was to Churchill a foul stigma

And that the ancient, creaking Babbage
It was to him but so much cabbage

Colossus One and Colossus Two
Those gadgets too he began to rue

They say he let them rust and rot -
The pity is that he did not


(I checked with the Lizard People on this – Churchill’s secret Second World War computers, powered by a primordial Lemurian source of energy so dangerous that even speaking its name in the ancient language of the Atlanteans is said to be fatal, are secured in a locked vault on Oak Island and guarded around the clock (set to Martian time) by the Trilateral Masonic-Vatican Continuum of deadly albino flying fish.)

1 E.M. Forster, “The Machine Stops,” 1909, Much-anthologized
Your ‘umble scrivener’s site is:

Reactionarydrivel.blogspot.com

It’s not at all reactionary, tho’ it might be drivel.

Lawrence Hall’s vanity publications are available on amazon.com as Kindle and on bits of dead tree:  The Road to Magdalena, Paleo-Hippies at Work and Play, Lady with a Dead Turtle, Don’t Forget Your Shoes and Grapes, Coffee and a Dead Alligator to Go, and Dispatches from the Colonial Office.
Lawrence Hall Mar 2017
Winston Churchill Defies the Nazis

#Intersectionality come together
#As one we are cliché strong privileged
#Patriarchy ethically sourced all options
#Are on the table chilling effect quagmire

#Teutons behaving badly doomsday clock
#Transgressive sustainable Guccifer
#Renewable change the gender binary
#Wiretapped microinequity

#Unity in diversity is strength
#Build bridges not borders no fascists here

                          And let The People say “#Meme”
There once was a Prime Minister named Winston Churchill
Who during the war years suffered with the black dog ill
The British people knew not of the personal cross he did bear
No reportage of his bouts of depression ever went to air
Churchill's ill was never allowed to publicly spill
Tommy Johnson Apr 2014
Winnie the Pooh is trying to think
As are Plato and Socrates
While The Little Rascals get rambunctious
And The Marx Brothers cause calamities
Jim Jones stirs the Kool-Aid
And Georgie Porgie makes his move
Bo Peep and Miss Muffett start to blush
Red Ridding hood just swoons
The Muffin Man does a deal
With Johnny Apple seed
These beings and people our real
In our Surreal Reality

******* lets the paint splatter
And Moses parts the sea
Belushi buys an eight-ball
Bruce is on trial for obscenity
Rorschach is on the case
Right behind Sherlock Holmes
John the baptist goes for a swim
Along with Brian Jones
Jack and Jill meet Hansel and Gretel
They're hungry, they're thirsty
These figments of imagination do exist
In our Surreal Reality

Rasputin was so evil
As bad as Captain Hook
Now was it ** Chi Minh or Nixon
Who said "I am not a crook?"
Mao Zedong looked at Stalin
With a shared murderous grin
Booth stormed the Ford theater
And shot President Lincoln
Kennedy and King we're both casualties
Of the process of the deciphering
Of our Surreal  Reality

Zeus said to Aphrodite
"Wow, you look real good tonight"
And Handel says "Hallelujah!"
As the Wright Brothers take flight
Baby Face Nelson
Teams up with Dillinger
Moe, Larry and Curly
Mengele, Mussolini and Adolf ******
Three bears, three little pigs
Along with three blind mice
Sit together, while Maurice Sendack
Cooks them chicken soup with rice
Charlie Bucket had a buy out
Wonka gave up his factory
Fiction or nonfiction it's all a apart
Of our Surreal Reality

Chicken Little tried his best
To warm The Little Red Hen
Of the sly trickster
They call Rumpelstiltskin
Rimbaud applauds Leonidas
And his 300's final stand
Da vinci  paved the way
For both Newton and Edison
Folklore and war heroes
And those with intellectual mentality
Are all just pieces
Of our Surreal Reality

Wee Willie Winkie's scream
Wakes up Rip Van Winkle
But not Sleeping Beauty who's been asleep for thirty years
But has no acquired a single wrinkle
Caligula has lost his mind
And Nero's lost his fiddle
What does Beethoven's hearing aid
Have to do the March Hare's riddle?
Abbie Hoffman fights for civil rights
Thomas Jefferson for democracy
Products of the conceptual
In our Surreal Reality

Berryman writes an ode
To Washington's wooden teeth
Manson speaks of Helter Skelter
Neruda damns the fruit company
Charles Schultz frames the story
And Seuss gives it rhyme
Some where far, far away
Taking place once upon a time
And the villagers all had omelettes
Thanks to clumsy Humpty Dumpty
It's all food for thought
In our Surreal Reality

Santa brings us presents
And Cupid bring us love
But we can never get back
The members of the 27 Club
Warhol makes his movies
And Buddha meditates
Joseph Smith reads the golden plates
Mohammed and Jesus save
Theses figures bring people hope
In life's dualities
Trusting faith
And our Surreal Reality


Han Solo is in carbon freeze
Don Juan's preoccupied
Sinbad sets his sails
Simple Simon didn't get his pie
Caesar looked at Brutus
Brutus looked at Saddam Hussein
Hussein looked at L. Ron Hubbard
Who prayed to Eloheim  
Dionysus can out drink us all
We cringe at Achilles fatality  
As Ra soars through the skies
Of our Surreal Reality

Aristotle says to Shakespeare
"Well Billy you old bard"
Frodo trades the ring of power
To Fidel Castro for a Babe Ruth Baseball card
Biggie and Tupac write their lyrics on paper
Ted Bundy is put in jail
They're making another skyscraper
For King Kong to scale
Hemingway is too far gone
Kant's take on morality
Einstein says it's all relative
In our Surreal Reality

Churchill said victory
John Lennon said peace
Judas gave back the silver
Then hung himself in a tree
Tojo and Kim Jong-il
Wanna be as cool as Brando and Dean
George Carlin warned us all
Now Hermes leaves the scene
So do the butcher, the baker and the candle stick maker
Followed by Old King Cole and his Fiddlers Three
As they make their way to find
A sense or Surreal Reality

Odysseus pines for Ithaca
Paul Bunyan chops the trees
The Jersey Devil has not been found
Noah herds the animals by twos not threes
Anubis wraps the mummies
And Augustus leads Rome
Bugs Bunny laughs with Pryor
All at the expense of Job
So what can we all make of this
Is this all actuality?
Symbolism or nonsense?
Realistic Surrealism or Surreal Realty?
Men and women are equal
None are *above
the other
In rights and respect
Equal

Men have strength yes
Yet it's women who endure

Men and women
Both are intelligent
As their brains made of the same matter
Biologically here equality stands firm

Differences of course are there
Yet minuscule
Appearances cast aside
Only  few can be observed

Women and men
Both are sensitive and feel
Yet where women show it; display
Men conceal; pretend not to feel
Society kills

In tactics and ideas
Is where our message ends
For  too often  it's said to
Disregard the thoughts of women
Too  dumb and feeble minded to be
 Of Value and interest

Yet where there's Winston Churchill
The mastermind of Britain
There's  also Elizabeth the 1st
The queen who beat the Spanish Armada

Hence with logics like this
Any notion of ****** inferiority
Can be easily dismissed
As utterly ridiculous.
A view point I agree strongly upon equality not feminism but the equality of both men and women!
Matt Apr 2015
“It is essential in order to protect societyfrom the ambition, greed, and malpractice or caprice of rulers to ensure the inviolatibility of even the humblest home.  The right and power of the private citizen to appear to impartial courts against rulings of the state and against ministerial decrees of the day.  Freedom of speech in writing, freedom of the press, freedom of combination and agitation within the limits of long established laws.  The right of regular opposition to government.  The power to turn out a government and put another set of men in its place by lawful and constitutional means, and finally the sense of every individual’s association with the state and of some responsibility with the actions and conduct of the state.”
Taken from a lecture by Sir Martin Gilbert entitled,

"What Did Democracy Mean to Churchill?"
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2020
whatever happened to the churchill statue beside
the houses of parliament...
is a bit like... the psychadelic
opening sequence of stan kombric's...

2020: a societal cull of the moon...
later know as...
   over-stepping the science with
fiction...
      19 years prior...
19 years prior... whatever happened
in the 20th century's 60s...
is but a dream...
a nightmare to some...

   a smile a scythe a sickle...
somewhere in che-shyre... involving
a cartoonish: & cat...

              the shard: the shadow emblem...
of some skeleton and some other -esque...
or... that "crucifix"...
from the artwork of led zeppelin's:

      presence...

for days i have been suffocating under
the impression of the arabic evil eye
of some malice-riddling ******...

it's raining and some house (if not two)
in the distance is being flooded...

             how it happens... that my expression
of freedom has to be problematic for
others to express their: supposed...
"counter"...
i am either dead and rigid...
or alive... and... paranoid...
    as it happens:
"i see what i want to see"...
pentagram ditto...
       or... i insinuate fictional
res extensa narratives when...
i feed no schadenfreude into the events
of the lives of others...
they happen with a measure of:
oops...            

      ...the statue of churchill in parliament sq....
the object on the sleeve artwork
of presence...
               such that the apes
gathered... and prostrated themselves
before the altar of the abstract form...
it was less clued-in to the definition
of the vitruvian man -
as all became known in the hindu "cruelty"
of depiction of vishnu and shiva...

hardly... the ****-erotica gratification
of the man... the vinci...
the vitruvian man...
when... some... hindu... dreamed up...
the deities as already gifted...
the angels and their wings...
the hindu deities and their four hands...
because it wasn't a *****
falling asleep who conjured up...
a pegasus - ******* unicorns?
and a chimera...
        no... only sober... rational...
people... need... to venture into the nether
of what's... allowed imagination:
a wish for a larger ****...
or a crop of hair... with one's receding:
corona... of it...

- it rained and it rained...
people confused my stoic approach
with either solipsism or altruism or...
worse... still...
   hybrid soul lost to tow...
the prosaic... and the... prime example
of atheism: the...
                  halo autist:
with no god...
         this diatribe of focus on nothing...
and someone: n'est ce-pas...
taking a selfie?
       who isn't to want to understand
an solipsist... when...
these supposed: social cretins...
are doing... the worship of moloch before...
everyone else's tired and ***** shirts?

- who's to bargain on what's the service
silver and chinese platter?

            - that object on led zeppelin's
album sleeve for the album presence...
    which is a reiteration...
that shard cut into the mountain...
in stanley kubrick's 2001: a space odyssey...

  how the apes became amazed...
at... perfection...
   how the idea of a chiseled mountain...
implied: stacking one up...
rather than... the microscope...
lost... and no detail of footing...
arrived at... prayer before the ascent!

how the gorilla...
   would preserve itself eating
nothing but fruit...
the panda the shoots of bamboo...
the bear... the half-wit
but more than ape...
how it would...
                "digress"... serve
the docile "god" of... not brightening
particulars... hybrid with:
                    hibernating...
                  since no genius of man...
came up with digressing winter...
beside all that... comfort foods
and lullaby hype of summer thrills...
morose and chew seance...

  hello chimpanzee omnivore...
bacterial tsunami norms...
                     2020: a time-warp odyssey...
because... how can you...
feel comfortable...
listening to people... citing a book...
like it's some...
chapter in the old testatment:
the book of malachi became true!

some... celebration of... sleep-walking?
it has to be subjected to: elation...
that... someone wrote...
what would become true...
70 years from now? circa.

            the statue of churchill:
that glorified object of geometry
in 2001: a space odyssey...
and the pristine geometric shadow...
twisting...
   i.e. when god carved
a mountain with nuance...
man competed with a pyramid...
and then... that ****-storm
with egyptian necrophilia happened...
somehow... sedated...
the greek Δ...

                         emerged...
now back to basics...
              the shape of man... will always
require... some basic focus for...
abstracting: anew...
                     fingers trapped in
the abacus...
                    
        and people want language to flow like
some narrative...
poetry: esp. rhymes with cages...
rhymes with either prefixes or suffixes...
-ing and an -ing:
and then... echo echo oh oh: PING *******
PONG!
    
            i give ******* to the scissors...
then a whole left hand to a rabid
dog about to make a sweater when biting
into a yorkshire terrier's ***...
for good measure...

             i will not give up...
some boorish sanctity of a formality of language
for a dear sir... kind regards...
have 'ere: a slobber of pride
of raw oink... slab sir...
of a prop'ah... pork chopper!
no like?
   as the ol' proverb says...

you can take up your ******'
bucket and *****...
and *******... to the next... sandpit!
savvy?
here: here we play... THIS... sort of "game".
Kyle Kulseth Jun 2018
I thought I heard
               Canadian slang
from the opposite bed-side
Like it's 2009, rub some lines off my face.
Inner space bleeding outward,
deep red, a nosebleed,
angled points on white of The Maple Jack.
               A Nip at the Sal's on Esplanade-Riel.

Grab your runners and toque,
               it's warm, but not forever
and these legs are sore. Polar bears
on the sweater you wore in the Fall--
Churchill, Manitoba, the streets are full of teeth and claws.
Awoke and wanted warmth lacking.
I thought I heard Canadian slang.

I thought I heard "it'll be okay"
from the voices of feathers fletching arrows falling.
     they whisper and screams sink deep behind
                                     eyelids
                                     closing.
A sentence unfinished,
                sinking in flesh
                              in time
                sinking
                              in snow and ice
                sinking
                              in water in Summer
                sinking
                              in memory.

I thought I heard
               plans being made
and shy laughter.
I heard it 5 times. Didn't I?
Days fade, ears dull*
Walking on streets, in the cold
towards her home
I thought I heard laughter--
                                   heard something
                        like laughter--
I thought I heard rain, as the Lodgepoles drank water.

I thought I heard laughter.

I thought I heard wax melt.
I thought I smelled fairness.
I thought you wanting more time
to bleed and blur tenses.
I thought I heard rivers rushing and roaring
                                                 their battle cries--
--asserting their presence.
I thought I heard cars pass and sounds of the daytime
                    and late March walk along bridges.

I could swear I heard something
     Like Canadian slang,
                 sweet
                     water
                  light
                      laughter.
Som­ething.
RAJ NANDY Jun 2015
AN EXOTIC JOURNEY TO THE
               KHYBER PASS!
              By Raj Nandy

“When spring-time flushes the desert grass,
Our caravan wind through the Khyber Pass.
Lean are the camels but fat the frails,
Lighter the purses but heavy the bales!
As the snowbound trade of the North comes down,
To the market square of Peshawar town.”
- Rudyard Kipling (Dec1865- Jan 1936).

Those immortal lines of Kipling had enticed me,
To delve into famous Khyber’s exotic History ;
And today I narrate its wondrous story!

THE KHYBER PASS:
Steeped in adventure, bloodshed and mystery,
The Khyber remains the doorway of History!
Winston Churchill, then a young newspaper
correspondent in 18 97 had said, -
‘Each rock and hill along the pass had a story
to tell! ’
Cutting across the limestone cliffs more than
thousand feet high,
This narrow winding path of 45 km’s stretch,
Cuts through the Hindu Kush mountain range!
Forming a part of the ancient Silk Route between
Central and South Asia;
Linking Kabul with Peshawar town during those
early days of Pre-Independent India!
The area is inhabited by fierce Pashtun tribesmen,
who live by their ancient Honor Code;
They value their land and liberty, and their winding
mountain roads !
They can be the greatest of friends and deadliest
of foes;
And as the saying goes, for a friend a Pashtun
can even give up his life;
But he never forgets a wrong or when rubbed on
the wrong side !
He always avenges a wrong deed done, -
Even after decades, through his sons!
The indigenous tribes living along the pass,
Regard this area as their sole preserve!
They have levied a toll on all travelers from
the earliest days,
For their safe conduct and passage through the
Khyber, - as Historians say!

HISTORIC INVASIONS THROUGH KHYBER:
At its highest point the Khyber is 3500 ft in height,
But its strategic importance can never be denied!
Around 2000 BC came the Indo-Aryan tribes
from Central Asia,
Migrating to the rich fertile plains of Ancient India!
In 326 BC, the great Alexander came through,
By bribing the local tribes to gain their favour,
To defeat King Porus on the banks of Jhelum River;
And set up his short-lived Bactrian Empire!
In 1192 AD Afghan warlord Mohammad Ghori, -
Invaded India to set up The Sultanate at Delhi!
In 1220 Genghis Khan with his Mongol hordes
came through the Khyber;
With the help of local tribesmen to plunder the
ruling Arab Empire!
In 1380 through this pass came Timur Lane,
To wreck and destroy the Delhi Sultanate!
And finally from Kabul through the Khyber path,
Came Babur to establish the Mogul Empire with
his victory at Panipath!
From 1839 till 1919, here the British had fought,
- three ****** Anglo-Afghan Wars!
And before retreating, drew the famous Durand
Line to ally fears;
But this Line is now the cause of bickering and
tribal tears!

THE BRITISH KHYBER RAILWAY:
At Jamrud Cantonment town 17 km west of
Peshawar,
Lies the doorway to the historic Khyber!
The track passes through a breath-taking rugged
mountainous terrain, -
Through 34 tunnels, over 92 bridges, a 42 kilometer’s
of winding stretch!
A five hour’s journey at Laudi Kotal gets complete;
The line stands as a tribute to British Engineering
feat!
The legendary Khyber Rifles had guarded the
western flanks of the British Empire,
With garrisoned troops guarding this route entire! @
Since 1990 this train is run by a private enterprise, #
With local tribesmen always taking a free joy ride!
Recent Taliban attacks made Pakistan to close
the Khyber Pass,
An uneasy truce prevails, only God knows how
long it will last ?!
But with that Durand Line of 1893 demarcated,
Forty million Pashtuns today stand divided, -
Between Pakistan and Afghanistan!
With hopes, aspirations and dreams of becoming
United!
- Raj Nandy
New Delhi .

NOTES:-
Battle Of Panipath, April 1526, where Babur defeated numerically
superior forces of Ibrahim Lodhi; thereby establishing the Moghul
Empire in India!
On 04Nov1925, the British inaugurated the Khyber Railway to carry
troops up to Laudi Kotal on the other end, short of the Afghan border
to guard the western flanks of the British Empire!
@KHYBER RIFLES: - Raised in early1880s with HQs at Laudi Kotal,
& garrison troops manning the Forts at Ali Masjid near the
mid-way point of the Pass, and also at Fort Maud to the east of the
Khyber Pass.
KHYBER RAILWAYS: With 75 seats, a kitchenette, and two toilets;
pulled by two old Lancashire engines of 1920 vintage! It cuts across
Peshwar Airport under Air Traffic Control! It was stopped in 1982, as
economically not viable! Started again by a Private Enterprise
in 1990, in collaboration with the Pak Railway! After the Partition of
India in 1947, the Khyber is under the Federal Administered Tribal
Area of Pakistan! A difficult and a volatile region to govern! The
Khyber now remains closed due political reasons! Thanks for
reading.
* ALL COPYRIGHTS ARE WITH RAJ NANDY

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