Homeless

I got a house but it’s not my home.
All of a sudden I feel I don’t belong there anymore
The freshly painted walls fail to add color to my imagination
The ceilings hate me when I sleep and they have to stay awake
The carpets are aping my hopes and getting blackened day by day.

There is a generation gap between the clothes in my wardrobe and my mannequin body
The mirror refuses to show me in it and all I am able to see is the mirror’s face.

So I decide to move out
With an ego,
Larger than the dimensions of my house.
Quarter past ten I step out of the house
Next moment, the name plated door shuts Automatically
As if it was just waiting for me to go.
For the first time, I felt my house talking to me
Though I am disappointed with the tone in which it spoke
I just keep staring on the sticker below the nameplate which had changed from
Home Sweet Home
to
Rome Street Rome

by AVISHESH JHA

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