Aps- The Muddled Utopian

Today the air smelled like mom’s rotis, When I walked towards the cafeteria… My heart just jumped out of its rib cage And flew home… Mom was running around the house, Her anklets were ringing the sweetest melodies, Dad was telling endless stories, And my monkey brother was playing his pranks… I am glad heart is a wild creature with wings, Who knows no bondage Who is still a kid that loves to play in puddles… I never thought when I was leaving home, I was leaving it forever… But like they say, home is where your heart is And my heart is tied to that little veranda, Where the grass is always green, rain falls like pixie dust there is always warm words, hugs and food when you come home And everything is taken care of… We all wandered as adventurers And we have achieved what we always dreamed off And we are working towards what we want to achieve But what keeps that fire alive is that feeling called “HOME”, I am carrying my “HOME” in m

She was lying wide awake in her hostel bed. It was just yesterday when she had traveled 1600 kilometers away from home alone to give wings to her dreams. Her cozy nest of 21 years was now beyond access and mother bird was nowhere around to take care of her.  There was no steaming breakfast on the table, no hot water running, no ironed clothes and no mom shouting “Oh! Come on kid, get up already. You are late.” Sometimes I used to deliberately pretend to be asleep just to hear her voice. But then she remembered Moms warm tight hug and her precious words which were still echoing in my ears. “Go my dear Cuckoo (that’s my nickname) grab the world by horns. Mumma is so proud of you. In you I live my dreams”.  She got up from the bed and opened the balcony door. Mumma Duck was swimming happily with her ducklings in the nearby pond. That was the day little cuckoo bird grew up and took her first flight to make the world her own.