I got to see my grandfather's old room;
the grandfather I never got to meet or know,I saw how tranquil and zen his room was,his safe haven,how he must've gone there to escape,to breathe,to let it all out
The radio,the cassettes,the photographs
The antique guns,his old briefcase
The suitcases,the mirror
It felt like him,like I was getting to know him,the extravagant soul he was,the blissful laugh he had,his room was his ruin,his relic,a part of him,
and how I felt his absence and presence all at once
How I felt grateful that I had the honour to see a dormant part of him and grieving that I didn't get the chance to know the truest of him.
Zoya babar khan
YOU ARE READING
Sentiments in words
PoetryThis is a collection of my poems,I've written them with my entire heart and soul and would love to write a million more:)
