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 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’.