what's this thing called home, or.
some days before,
i had this terrible feeling associated with
this forced concept called
home.
when i was here
5-6 years back
i remember i was restless,
and to an extend detatched..
grandma, i loved.
acchan, i loved.
still.
i realise the restlessness came from
the feeling that i have a very great mother.
her image projected on me,
anything and everything i did and i dint.
and so i planned to leave this place
which proved very good in many ways.
i came back home almost a year back.
leaving the high paying job i had,
leaving my degree.
not planning to do anything with my life,
not planning to get married.
it hurt everything so much.
so much that some part of the pain still lingers on.
why did it have to hurt so much?
i wonder, my parents, both of them,
at some point of their lives rejected
every confirmity.
why do they expect me to be confirming then?
after some months staying here,
i'm completely at peace.
sometimes, i get the glimpses of the trust being lost,
but i still manage.
i wonder what changed in me.
or what changed in them..
or is it a peace that can be broken at any point of time?
as the days pass,
it feels like
its also how i make it to be.
its also how i react to.
and also how i can divert the conversations..
there are things beyond political theorisations
which can be moulded using love..
