Written by Neha Sherkar
Every storm gives birth to a home
Where the doors are open for rains,
Where the windows are waiting to welcome and cure the darkness.
Where the walls embrace the broken pieces
And where corners sit with crowded silence.
Where thorns breathe in the war,
Where the garden blossoms with martyrs.
Where each colour adorns the walls,
Where the roof becomes shadows to the roads of all.
Where the closet keeps the marks of battle you fought
Where the mirror witnesses the mocking laugh.
Where my miseries unravel their mask & lay before me,
Where the nights assure a break of dawn and the promise of a new day.
Where days want to dream & nights are awake
Where nobody bothers, what people will say.
Where everything is yours, dust & the ways
Where my pain fades and blurs into a distant memory.
Where a place is less of people, and more of me
Where the storm heals my agony,
I ask that storm to build such home for me
A home just like me.