She was there sitting on the cold floor,
With a book in her hand
Mouthing the words
Flipping the pages
Without taking it all in
Her loneliness is becoming
Thicker and heavier
With each minute passing
She felt the wind on her cheek
The sky was putting efforts to end her loneliness
She heard the rustling of leaves
The wind was tickling each other
She felt the warm hands
Trying to embrace her
The same hands as her grandma
She heard the cheer of young boys playing cricket and she looked back at those days where
She used to play with her dad
She came across another familiar smell
The intense aroma of ginger in tea
She found peace in it
She missed her mom's tea
She closed her eyes and thought these things were her childhood
She could feel everyone's presence here
Sitting in the terrace
She realized that she belonged to this place
The terrace was her second HOME
. . .
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