Jatin, the poet was sipping tea looking at the crowd passing by on the road. his firend, sitting beside him asked "how come you are not writing much now-a-days?"
Jatin's lips moved to one side in a smile that looked cynical and a sign that emitted a small sound and he said "My words are at danger of being mis- understood. and the mis-understood is at the danger of being circulated as the understanding." so, my friend, I fear putting into words what i think and know. Because the reader understands what he wants to. he fails to understand what i have written."
