RedPaper.in – WriteForRedPaper
By: Deepanshu Chhabda | Guest Writer | RedPaper.in
Tilting my head, I looked above.
So many stairs and there was hunger in me and in my steps.
I climbed some getting grip from the railing to be steady.
It got well with time, no grip needed now.
Some steps passed and weight too.
It came over my feet.
Mere presence of that iron beside me kept that hunger alive, kept me climbing.
With time I moved forward but sideways too, actually the other side.
Close to the wall, I suspected my every step on that staircase now.
The moment I tried to catch the wall, to breathe as my legs hurt,
The more they repelled me to get over on my own.
I left hunger behind but thirst remained.
My steps reflected the hope of drops.
There were times I climbed faster.
There were times I crawled slowly.
And yet the end was not near me.
I couldn’t see the other side of those stairs.
Then came the moment when the iron on one side was too cold to touch,
The wall on the other side was too rough to rasp.
Left both of them, eyes were waiting for the end.
Right now, I’m on one of those steps,
This journey doesn’t worry me.
That thirst is not over yet.
I hope to fill it with faces above, not my blood.