*** The snow-covered peak Was well within my sight When a girl smoking a cigarette Caught my wandering eye. Can you spare one for me, I asked. Sure, but I don't have a lighter, she replied. A girl with cigarettes, but no lighter, Foolish, but she had the spirit of a fighter, I had left my entire group behind, Well, everyone except her. Like an incorrigible addict Looking for a fix, there I was, Bothering random passers-by Until I successfully borrowed a lighter. What do I get in return for the cigarette, she asked. And without waiting for my reply, You have to click my picture, she said. Can I read you my poem instead, I replied. If you like it, you can give me a cigarette. If you don't, I'll be on my way. And so we went all the way to the summit, Bugging strangers for a lighter. She had enough cigarettes. And I had written enough poems. *** After reading the above poem, an obvious question would pop up in your mind about the girl as well as the cigarettes, considering I do...
Whispers and Words of M R Maiti
Not all thoughts translate into words. Some die in a whisper.