Tom Bombadil is an evolved chimpanzee that writes, sings and dances. He thinks it a cardinal sin to have a preferred fruit and enjoys them all equally, except pineapple – it stings his tongue. His greatest desire in the universe is to fly. So, on every widowed night, he prays to the Drooping Banyan for a pair of wings. Climbing trees and buildings are one of the delights of life. And on a good day, you are most likely to find him seated on a tree reading an ebook on his iPod, Melodia, or walking the streets listening to Melodia sing to him. He cannot bring himself to believe in heaven and hell, but secretly wishes it is true. For he desires to make conversations with Darwin, Dickens, Twain, Tolstoy, Morrison, Lennon, Kafka, Hegel, Nietzsche, Gandhi, Newton, Curie, Mahaveera, Aristotle and Tesla. And the only means of ever making conversations with dead people is to meet them after life. All in all, he’s hyperactive, starry-eyed and plain right stupid. And he truly believes:
"A writer is like a bottle of, she/he gets better with age. And his/her written word is like as cask of honey, it never expires."
