Home

-

For years, equality sat comfortably at our table.

We called every decision ours until I made one on my own.

The house adjusted to him the way a compass obeys the north, and every room seemed modern enough to forget it.

The evening I disagreed, every needle remembered where to turn.

Suddenly, the word 'ours' sounded borrowed.

After all,

he was the 'man' of the house.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

From Dusk Till Dawn

-
Image
It was just another night at Westin’s Colony, a residential area comprising around fifty houses, nestled away from the hustle and bustle of the town. People lay awake on their beds, some reading, some watching television, some tucking their little ones in bed and shushing them to sleep, and some casting occasional glances at the bedroom window that faced the street. In some time, a sharp noise, accompanied by a shrilly voice, was heard all over the neighbourhood, “Clang! Clang! Clang! Ayo Goka!” And strangely, like clockwork, the lights went out, the sounds died down, and a blanket of silence descended over the locality. Sebu’s footsteps echoed softly on the pavement as he moved through the colony. The chilly night air wrapped around him like a familiar blanket, and the rhythmic tap of his bamboo stick against the metal gates became the neighborhood’s lullaby. A tall, lanky figure, clad in a beige uniform and a heavy jacket, strolled the streets with a bamboo stick in hand....
Read more

Sharing Is Caring

-
Image
My dear, It’s a selfish, selfish world out there. It truly is. Where relationships are evaluated Like shares in the stock market. Love is calculated, Responses measured, Reactions contemplated. Nothing is spontaneous anymore. Every move carries an invisible label That reads: 'Proceed with caution'. Gone are the days Of fighting over candies, Sharing what was left of the ice cream cone, Begging for a turn on the bicycle. Back when every war Ended over a favourite snack, A cartoon on television, Or silent laughter under the same blanket. Back when anger lasted only minutes, And love never needed language. Time changes everything, my dear. You realize it has The moment you pause And look back. You see it In the quieter phone calls, The delayed replies, The conversations that now sound careful Instead of effortless. You see it When harmless discussions Turn into calculations. When a few numbers Can wound relationships more deeply Than years of distance ever could. So no...
Read more

Un Numero

-
Image
Ever since early man began marking Lines upon rocky cave walls, It has been numbers. Ever since the Pied Piper Led the rats into the sewers, It has been the rat race. Or perhaps even before that. When we proudly invented zero, And shaped solutions To mathematical puzzles That unsettled the human mind. What began as marks and ranks Turned into marks and grades, Then marks and hidden grades, Cut-offs and percentiles. The rat race continued. And so did we. We ran and ran towards numbers. Like names stitched onto racing bibs, Breath shortening before finish lines That moved each time we neared them. Five figures, Six figures, And beyond ... Towards changing worlds And changing times. Grades and ranks Soon took newer names: Ratings and reviews, Plays and downloads, Followers and subscribers, Impressions and profile views. The names changed. The numbers didn’t. The world still asked. Still remembered. Still valued The numbers. It was never originality, Or individuality, Or standi...
Read more