Sweet Happenstance

poetry. books. photography.

Some things change

I visited my town after like 6 months and I was neck deep in nostalgia while I was waiting for my brother to pick me up in the bus stop, the same place where I used to meet our relatives to pick them up, to show them the way to home… someone was coming to get me. Suddenly I became the familiar yet unfamiliar face waiting for a ride home.

While my brother drove I felt like the streets were uncomfortably narrow, the same streets that I used to race to reach places on time, the very same whose every bump and pothole I had crammed like one memorizes the scars and dimples of their lover.

I reach my home and it looks almost the same… just a little paint faded here and there, there is a new house under construction in the neighborhood, my room is filled with things that weren’t there before, the book shelve has a heavy layer of dust. It is all the same but in my heart the feeling of belonging to this place has dimmed. I love this town off course but I can’t stay here forever now.


from a local cafe in dehradun



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