Written by Lungmying Lepcha

the cold
crisp
winds
from the breath of the mountain
knocks through my table and to my ear
to wake me up
from the still sleep I occupy
in the afternoon sun ,

The window rattles as I rub my eyes,
My blurry vision and I try to get hold
of my spectacles,
It reminded me of a familiar space
The golden warm afternoon of home
Accompanied by the rustling sounds of the forest we are surrounded with,

How I longed for warmth in this cold evening,
But there was some warmth
radiating in a corner
in the form of human connections
from the adjacent bed
where my roommate was asleep.

Lungmying Lepcha is a first year student at NIT Sikkim pursuing her BTech in Civil Engineering. Other than the materials needed in construction, she is interested in ethnographic writings.