Hiraeth | Soumya Sarita Kar

I intensely yearn

For going back home

Like the school going child waiting

For the last bell to ring.

That summer

Heat wave wasn’t more tormenting;

Tears felt prickly rather- so was

The fire on daddy’s pyre.

It prickled my heart so much so that

Blood turned into tears but

Held back at the choked throat.

With him, all I held closed to my heart

Turned into ashes- burning always;

The house became lifeless;

Hopes turned into heaves and

Dreams took the shape of despair.

His empty chair created a ghostly void

That even after four summers

I feel it ruthlessly after me.

It echoes in the entire house and so does

In my heart, my soul, my entire being.

I rush home- at a distant past

But it’s unreachable every time.

My home- at a distant past holds

Innumerable memories;

I rush Home

To find the old me and all that

Held the essence of HOME, but in vain.

For, the void has taken its place.

My home calls me in.

My heart longs for the same

But home isn’t home anymore!

And, hopes turn into heaves,

Dreams despair.