in

I Am Home

the door, like an old man, creaks

the swollen window groans

the spotted walls frown at me

sniffle and snort the cobwebbed corners

dank and grimy it is inside

layers of dust on the floor

they’ve preserved my footprints-

stepping outside.

*

cautiously, gingerly

lest the grime sully

my pristine white dupatta

I step inside

inhale the musty air

choke and cough

and yet, after years,

I am home.

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Written by Seema Taneja

Formerly a teacher of English language, she is now a full-time blogger, writer, and poet. A bi-lingual writer, she writes on social justice, gender issues, women and child rights, economics, and political affairs, in English and Hindi. She contributes to several platforms like Women's Web, Momspresso, The Anonymous Writer and her write-ups have also been published in The Times Of India. Her stories have been featured in several anthologies. She has won many awards for her writing, including the prestigious Orange Flower Award for Writing with Social Impact in Hindi.

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