Home

I have always loved my home. Being an introvert, nothing gives me greater joy than basking in the comfort of my home. It's been more than a year since I left home for college and every time I leave home I feel the same pain.
I feel homeless most of the time. All my belongings are now in my hostel which isn't home and home has hardly anything that's mine. I come back home after months only to realise how much I don't know about my own people. Papa does not drink tea in the evening now like he used to, mom doesn't go to the terrace now, she sits in the balcony. My sister has new sets of friends who I am not aware of. The sofa is not where it used to be. And no matter how many changes occur home still feels familiar. Home still oozes comfort. Home still means love .

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If my clothes could speak

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The Run

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Fitting grief and guilt in your life is like fitting a missing piece in your puzzle which looked complete to you. You need to fit it in but you don't know how to. Keeping it aside makes you uncomfortable and the puzzle incomplete but to fit it in you need to start all over again.— % &

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Even if you keep your doors wide open
Some people would still prefer to peep in through cracks.

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Some people personify things
and then there are some
who objectify people.

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Maybe

(Poem in the caption)

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The eyes which were once filled with sorrow,fear and pain are now filled with determination , courage and confidence.

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