Kitabon ki duniya
In pensieve made of paper,
they have woven lives.
I attribute these soulless monotonous
prints on stacks of bound paper for
keeping me alive.
Sequestered I live,
but a thousand lives I have lived,
conjured by the alphabetical incantations
of the far-away sorcerer and the puissant witch.
Unfrequented portals on wooden racks,
incite passionate desires to escape someday,
but amid capitalist hiatuses,
I resort to these ethereal and curious paperbacks.
My indebted heart thinks of the pioneer
who created, what once would inspire
to never give up and let you escape to a place
a million miles away and in departed years,
in the ironical comfort of your own house
and chaotic peace of your own mind.
A loyal companion since memories formed,
I find every word unworthy to sing its praises and adorn,
but with a poem of gratitude,
I hope I have justified
the bewitching spells of a Bibliophile's guide.
I truly attribute these soulless monotonous
prints on stacks of bound paper for
keeping me alive.
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