With
rags that barely cover you, and a stony permanent bed, a little cold was always
chilly for me. I was idly sitting by, when a man came up, threw a few coins,
and asked, “What do you think of winters, young boy?”
A blank
expression, but a rush of thoughts.
But I
never had thought of winters before.
3
winters back, papa spat blood, and lays motionless, cold...Colder than the
night air.
2
winters back, they came and touched maa, and took her away.Laughing.next
morning, she had blood on her.
Winters?
Yes, they meant a lot to me.
--Kamala Sengupta
Department of English
UG 1
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