At the moment, I am gazing at the barren room, you know, it was once a space for our inevitable tittle-tattles. Unswerving, I spot the kitchen, where my mom puts her effort 24*7, and my dad barely sets his foot in. I miss the swing at the hall, for what I am always hunger for which holds me delicately and soothes my pain. My book rack is vacant and my couch has vanished. The money plant which I never feed and the teapoy that I hardly use has faded from its calibrated locus.
The boudoir which I claim mine has procured its retirement. The hushed chatters in the chamber refashioned to colossal echoes in the desolated space. The bathroom which was habituated with my hip-hops and chorus is breathless right now. The desktop that ogled me and the barbie dolls that gaped at my deeds cheated from its existence. I am confused about the portrait of my Shiva, and his rapturous headshot, who beams the positivity from within. The terrace, the balcony, the latches, the tiles, the fragrance and what more, I just fall short of my genuine happiness.
I cognize, once I make my move now, my reoccurrence is conditioned. I am aware that I am neither the constructor nor the owner but the memory-holder. Somewhere, to somebody, at some point at the ages, I would point my forefinger at this house, mentioning ‘It’s where I lived’. At that moment, I would upraise my feet to the greatest extent, and widen my eyes to the fullest possibility, and vision it, and investigate with magnificent zeal, and curve my lips while recollecting memories from my memory bank.
Currently, my heart is hefty and vacating the house is bittersweet and hard. My eyes are welled up with tears, but I bravely suppress the urge to let them fall, not wanting to be judged or appear vulnerable. I am at my feet with unhurried deep breaths. Like a faded flower, spoilt milk and incompetent mind, my delight has turned hopeless. I have to rub out my address on Amazon’s and Flipkart’s address lists and score out the contacts of the auto drivers who always imaged me as a school kid. Henceforward, it’s needless to delineate my folks that my residence is positioned at the backside of the ‘Veterinary Hospital’. I miss the Zomato’s instant delivery of Chinese noodles in not less than 15 minutes.
These brick walls had the most of my memories. Not just the good times, it understood and shouldered at my bad times. This house has been a witness to myriad of emotions from happiness to sorrow and accomplishments to failures. The secret cries, the mute vulgars, the massive dance, the heartfelt laughs and the useless chit-chats, ah, what not, it was my paradise safeguarding precious memories with pinned treasures. But from now on, I lost my position from being its Prime Minister.
Its location and surroundings hold a special place in my heart and my mom’s and its bodily stature is entirely relaxing. Its terrace was my dais, where I sing visualizing myself as a singer with my wireless headphones on. The flowers at our floor, which I rarely pluck or think on is facing me now, with its graceful smile for my better future.
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