Was it my mistake, in picking up the threads of learning,
in growing up the way I was told to
in living the way I’ve done up all this while,
in standing by truth, and wearing honesty.
That someone’s pain stirred me, a frown made me sad
if I cheered in etching out happiness for someone,
or, in thinking of someone more than me,
was it a mistake?
Was it a mistake in crying at someone sorrow,
in feeling the pangs at your loneliness
in toiling to carve out a ray of smile
in welling up tears at my pain, but failing
by crying up like a kid
at your hour of trial, friend?
© Sashikant Mohanty
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