Today I watch you closely in the half open eyes of a kitten. The kitten only born today, her mother all the more protective holding her not letting her even touch the floor. But in some quick past moments when she touches the floor, I can see her crawling, rather trying to crawl, trying to give food to her one day old curious mind, that wants to know this world, wants to open eyes to see and feel it all.

~Continued in caption~

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You may come in various forms, wear a different attire each time, stay for different intervals but to me you come as that breath which I can count as mine.

You come in tiny packets for me. You know when the clock turns 11:00 AM on Saturdays and I hear the weekend bells ringing, the same air brings a different puff, a puff of you and even with doors locked inside a 8 by 10 ft room I can feel you.
When I open my wallet taking out that Rs 500 note to buy pastries without anyone's consent just like that, I can feel you around somewhere, maybe at the corner of the bakery shop, smiling.
When I let the fear of taking decisions on my studies, job, love and marriage, shove out of the window, I can see the abstract you coming in and resting.

You empower me. You make me smile in dark hours, you help me grow and fight. I wish to close doors forever to not let you out ever.

Yours,
A mighty soul

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You are indispensable characters of so many stories. Sometimes being a benchmark and the other times showing ways to hit benchmarks, but ending up hitting heads. You are envied, hated even called villains is many stories I must say.

Well it's not your fault though. When Mr and Mrs Verma ji end up pushing their son way too much comparing his capacities and potentials with your son it is their failure. It is their failure to fathom the capabilities of their child. They fail to understand his uniqueness, they fail to cherish what they have and become a part of a race which was never their's.

Although it's they who need make the corrections in their targets, a piece of advice for you too. Don't take so much pride of your position before your fall. You never know when in your way you shall come across another Sharma ji and sons surpassing you. I end up wishing you success with a pinch of humbleness.

A silent spectator
Me

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You give wings taking away the shackles or do you bring shackles unseen at first to take away the wings forever? I wonder, wonder and wonder but I fail finding a definite conclusion to this complexity the ever complicated you bring.

You the ruler for eternity, draw a never fading line between dreams and reality. When one awakes to understand your stand and control, dreams slowly start forming dark clouds hanging along the already dark reality.
/Caption/

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Dear Home,

With efflorescence oozing out of your bricks, with water creeping in through cracks and pores, I see you growing old with me. I see you crestfallen with the yellow walls turing pale. Yes, when I look through your window to adore the saffron, the sky is wearing today, you envy, you envy my admiration for a world I seek outside of you. In the evenings when I arrive worn and torn you caress and comfort me but sometimes the screeches I have to listen to, makes it unbearable to stand you for another second. I wish to flee, escape to the world outside, to the saffron sky but your magnetic pull cuddles me around, I try to drift and move but you, your rigidity, your cozy comfort makes it nothing easy, I give in to you, giving up my temptation.

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My home, my heart. I know you and I are not fine but we are strong right?
'Flood in Assam', I think I have grown up listening to this and having it as one of the most common topics for essay writing too. Every year we face this prolong plight but this time I see it worsening.

(Caption)

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