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A Small Story Of An Introvert

By Nitish Mahato


That day, the flame of the first dawn,

lit the lamp in the lover's mind.

Even God's gift turns a back,

and says you are an unknown island.

Like a rare oyster without pearl,




None but the sea-sand understands his anguish.

Sensitive me in the midst of a violent storm;

The question arises of existence!

Battling the confusion,

When the evening got her brightest moon,

The labor gone high on wine,

The cigarette ash planning suicidal jump in silence.

Cool breeze, smoky ambience and my quiet breath

The failure of the poor has been revived today.


By Nitish Mahato







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