Thursday, August 28, 2008

Gone missing.

I miss my mom.
I miss home.
I miss not missing.
I'm tired of growing up.
Baba's kurta smell, his arm, a hug that fits, a heartwarming book, an uplifting poem, chocolate, sunlight through the windows, white bedsheets, muffled rainfall, slick roads and speeding, dal-chawal and Dammam air-conditioning... tv in the background, Ammy's smile and her legs resting somewhere on me, Mummy and Ammy, silly girls giggling and blissful solitude. Missing.

I really shouldn't have looked up this poem right now.

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