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A writer and a poet, Mamta looks within in this verse.
An Inner space of reflection Mining one's interior life The thoughts are held as hostage Sorting memories Every word has to be lugged into place While the obese moon Saunters pompously Staining darkness with silvery sheen The heavy paperweight Lifts from the mind Freed from sense of claustrophobic confinement The keyboard feels alive again The fingers tapping freely Waiting for polite applause.
Picture design Anumita Roy, Different Truths
