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The Girl Who left town


Have you ever lived out

like away from your parents, your town, your city,

your country

away from everything familiar..

Have you felt that sense of new beginnings

the feeling of setting up a new room, a new

apartment, a new house, a new home..

Making new acquaintances, the middle aged grocery

man downstairs, the food delivery guy from the

cafeteria down the street, the guy who brings

drinking water in gallons every Monday,

the mothers who wait for the school buses every

morning with their seven eight years olds, the

security guys at the entrance who spend

uncountable hours keeping their eyes open to keep

the neighbourhood safe,

All these people that I see,

they also left their piece of familiarity, far away,

somewhere in their beautiful forgotten countries.

And together we carry this new, unfamiliar sense of

identity, that we are a no-one here,

which is comforting, strangely enough.

No need to show the neighbors who got a more

expensive Television set, or who upgraded to a more

expensive car, or who bought another new flat in a

posh locality.

No relatives to nose in the daily lives.

This sense of being a no one feels safe.

No one to judge.

The old home, back in town, with all the familiar

families doesn’t feel the same anymore.

There was that gnawing mess which was toxic then

and is toxic now,

people having unrealistic expectations,

your old self still lingering there with its meaningless

insecurities.

Do I call that familiarity home even if it’s comfortable,

Or do I look ahead into the unknown, the

uncomfortable, and build a space for me there, a safe one, and call it my home?


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