SANCTUARY
I was reminded by her that it wasn’t my home,
I was ensured I will have mine too someday,
If getting married was the only way-
I prefer not to.
She understood I was reluctant,
Nonchalant of my room and belongings,
My father’s house was the only sanctuary I thought of-
But she, my dear mother reminded me every time it was not.
My Holy Book reminds me how my grave is the only home,
Knowing that too, I was told how an “apartment” should be my abode,
I got married and went to live in my husband’s home-
But I was told by my friends, it wasn’t mine after all.
Months later, I rented an apartment for us,
Just for the three of us-
Us and our daughter,
Again she reminded me ‘paying rent doesn’t make the walls my own’.