For a yearlong at six in the morning I took the paper from the thin man And kept it neatly stacked on shoe box. When the stack looked like a hill I called the scrap collector, and sold it. ‘Why do you buy if you don’t have time to read?’ My wife pointed. I kept silent, and thought of a break from tomorrow. Next morning at six in the morning he came And I took it as usual and gently put it on the pile. ‘Sheer wastage!’ One day she rued, ‘I hate the headlines, but I love the thin man in slippers’, I admitted.
Picture design Anumita Roy, Different Truths
Abu Siddik teaches at Plassey College, Nadia, West Bengal, India. He loves to write poem, short story and article on the struggle and resilience of the Indian marginalised communities, the underdogs, the outcasts. He has 12 books.
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