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literature poetry SHORT STORIES

My Mommie’s Home

When I see this place, I see myself arousing at 4 AM even when I had no chore to do. That morning tea was a blessing for me. The Sunlight which came right inside this window all filled with hope and prosperity. I see myself sitting on the table, talking about all those butterflies flying on the sky. Those walks with my folk in the dawn would go on till twilight. Vacation meant this place to me.

When I was 9, I played with those kids here. They showed me how those field stairs could take me to paradise. Where the land had no other betrothed and could kiss the sky dauntlessly. I see myself flying while leaping from one field to another.

I felt friendship in the most unique way, as there was no other reason than love to stay. No justification to give when mistaken, as there were no grudges to be taken.Religious things that you need to follow if you have to stay in this place you have no worries to swallow.

A temple where goddess “Kali” resides, have more “shakti” power than any other place you can discover. A place you can call deity’s home and the courage that you discover is irreplaceable. As I’ve drawn in memories of past home, I may cry my sentiments out loud.

Marriages that were a festival to celebrate, and dresses I wore with all confidence and faith. Attire that looked so dainty and elegant, I wore it when I was 10.All glammed up and pretty, it was my “masi” mom sisters wedding. I showed my lehenga to every villager I met, as they were my mother’s kin I had recently met. There was no bound to my contentment, I hopped and danced like a peacock that day.

Those nights excited me more than I could explain, all of us use to doze on the floor as a group of pals every day.

I wish I could ever relive those days of joy. When I was here I never asked for another toy, which would make my mood better and give meaning to my day. Maybe I am less of words, I could assert my feelings with. Maybe I’m yearning to see myself being who I was in these ceilings.

This house you are seeing isn’t the one where I use to go, as it got burnt with those flames my childhood burnt too. That house would look the same, as my uncles tried to make it look alike. But what about those sentiments which the fire took along with those woods. Those people got busy in their life too and now this house is just vacant and all the darkness that is opposite to blue.

Today I came back here, trying to recall all those minutes I could take along with me, but all I feel is empty.

-Riya Shah

By Ray

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