Hesitated at the beginning,
He crossed the line for the first time;
The book seemed old, full of dust and mystery to him,
A kind of book that is written once in a lifetime.
With his fingers trembling,
Throat almost drying;
He tried to touch the cover of the book,
A book that was full of stories, whose papers were dying!
Stuck tightly between the piles of different books,
He somehow managed to pull it out;
He was immensely happy to have in hand that book,
A book that he never knew what was it all about.
He adored that book,
Like a child adores his first toy;
But reading it was not important to him,
For him it was just a good site to enjoy!
Just as that little boy,
You adored me immensely like your first toy.
I was in your hands,
Like that book was in that boy’s hands with sophistication,
Exactly when I was on a verge to be broken.
Slowly you brought me closer,
Stared at me with surprise,
Agitated when you didn’t even understand the first page you opened.
Then the day came, when everything was frozen,
Your agitation melted and your yelling stopped,
The book kept with utmost sophistication finally dropped.
Suddenly everything started echoing in your ears,
Everything that was once clearly spoken,
When every page of that book was torn and every word of it seemed broken;
Like that book I was torn into pieces,
A book meant to be read by you,
A book that was never opened!