Whispers and Words of M R Maiti

*** 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...

*** The meter is stuck. I'm traveling miles Still not moving ahead. The brakes don't work A speed breaker sends me flying Into a vault of old memories. I had come of age. So I had to give up My fear of the road. Travelling all the roads together, The thrill of the ride Eventually replaced the fear. Then, without noticing, The license plate wore out and The gentle ride turned bumpy. The rearview mirrors droop low now, No longer reflecting her face, Just the trailing traffic. *** This poem is dedicated to the scooty I grew up with. Like everything else in life, it was once new and bursting with energy. Its condition has worsened now, not very different from human relationships. Have you had a similar experience? Leave your thoughts in the comments below.

*** You may have heard Or watched Love stories of men Who gave away their hearts To the love of their lives. What remains underrated, however, Is how their eyes light up When they recite the stories, Filled with fun and flare Of the not-so-distant past. There is something endearing In the way they run with the world But their hearts still roam Their college lecture halls And the school playgrounds. *** This poem is dedicated to male friendships that sustain the test of time, through various stages of life, despite all odds and the intervening distance. Have you observed something like this yourself? Leave your thoughts in the comments below.

*** Finding solace In an air-conditioned space, The city slept While I wandered the streets, Restless, Perfecting the ending Of a sentence. The cool breeze made me forget That it was a summer night. Then, out of nowhere, A cold whisper Sent a shiver down my spine. "You have to choose, my friend. Be a writer or be content." "Why can't I be both?" I asked the emptiness. And the whisper scoffed at me, "You and your consistent pursuit To get the best of both worlds. Buckle up then! You are about to be tested." I stumbled over a rock And found the ending I was looking for. "If a river wants to meet the sea, Twisting and turning, It will somehow find its way Even through the mountains." If a whisper could smile, It did, and said, "We will see." *** I don't have a million readers - not by choice, obviously - just a handful. But they mean to me as much as the millions would do. And one of those readers reminded me that I had taken a lon...