I am back again driving through the same lanes. I pass through the familiar roads filled with unfamiliar faces. By the signal I stop, stare out and smile at an old building with cracked walls. I called it home as a newlywed. The rooms were small and meals were burnt. But, a couple there had nothing to complain. I wonder who lives here today.
With a green signal I move ahead. Though I avoid looking at right, I hear my heart pump with fear. Here is the hospital I used to visit. I hated falling sick, being pierced with needles and paying heavy bills. I can still recollect its preserved lemon disinfectant smell.
Next, I speed through an old bazar. Aroma from the bakeries, make my stomach grumble here. I wish to halt for a snack. Such a risk and would leave me with regrets. Who wants to be stuck in rush hour stampede for just a piece of cake?
As I turn towards the next junction, I remember the day when I was nearly hit by a drunken driver. He surprised me like a pouncing tiger. I thank Lord that I’m still alive. As I perch in my parking lot, I wonder what my little chicks would love to eat. Today I’m back safe and sound to my cozy home where I nest my lovely kids. But is there any assurance that I’ll be back again after next trip? Does it really matters where I live? It will always be a question of – How I lived.
Prepublished in wolfpublisher