Foreign-Home
“Home is where one starts from.” –T.S. Eliot
A place that would once bubble
with children playing
on the streets
are deserted today
The buildings that were once new
are old and rusted today
Those familiar faces
are replaced with new ones
The corner tea shop is converted
to a restaurant
Those open doors now
remain closed for some reason
The newspaperman no longer
cycles down the street
The neighborhood that was once my home
now feels so unknown
One thing that remains unchanged
are the memories that it holds —
the most precious
memories of childhood can never be old.
© Shruti Sinha 2019. All Rights Reserved.
In Response to Shobha Roy’s Thanksgiving
This story was published in The Cotton Thread — weaving life with words. If you want to be a writer in our publication, click here
