Moma  I m coming home.

Under the sun burn sky I am walking on highway with my eyes staring on occasionally passing vehicles. In ears Ozzy Osbourne is igniting dead alcohol. Atmosphere was stinky and my body is in sweat. 10th rejection letter lays in my hands, flurring with wind. It has become like my life, deformed, unshaped, crumpled and dead. I stare at my phone screen over blue and white interface. It looks filled with colorfull pictures and fancy captions how every body loves their mom. How their mom changed their life. Some wrote about how they miss their moms.

 Today is mothers day.

                I think about my mom, sometimes but then most of time I try to remember what should i remember. Should i remember that red marks with guava stick or that burn match stick marks. The way i use to go to school hiding marks. I don’t know shall I think of one kiss that you gave me when I won medal in football or shall I think of kick on face you gave me on stomach when I played outside. I remember once i was caught by electricity. I was choked. I was life less. I felt deprived of blood. My body almost turned white. And very same moment you pulled wire out of socket and saved me. Shall I thank you for that life or shall I remember you for breaking my fingers soon after saving my life. Once you threw metal scissors over me which got stuck on my shin just for not doing homework, and once u pushed me from stairs just for skipping lunch.

I m not blaming you mom. I won’t ever. All my life I thought I must been a bad child. Child who didn’t topped in class. Child who ran away. Child who never did home work. I was bad boy. I use to see my friends mom giving them chocolate. I never tasted a bit of chocolate before I turned 10. I stole my first chocolate. After every stolen chocolate I felt more confident about it. That’s have been my life.

 Somehow on dad’s pension and savings I reached college. Graduated.  Now I m on roads with my 10th rejection letter. I left home with saying good bye. That warm young blood felt free and proud about that. I haven’t seen you mom for last 5 years. I still have monochrome picture which I clicked in rain. I have been sleeping on bare floor or on grass, body has got accustomed to it but I still long for your laps. I still long for voice that will sing me lullabay and pat me to sleep. I still long for hug warm enough to take all my pain. But then I fear that u will hit me hard for being a failed child. Disgraceful to your family. 

Tomorrow I have my train. I hope to see your wrinkled face, spectacle ridden eyes. Silver hairs which always flaunted like actress. I hope that you will welcome me with hug. I hope you will make those knots barfi. I wonder do you still weave sweater. Have weaved something for me too?

Ozzy was spilling in my brain with his magical solo ripping apart every nook of my soul as he says  

You took me in and you drove me out
Yeah, you had me hypnotized
Lost and found and turned around
By the fire in your eyes

You made me cry, you told me lies                                   But, I can’t stand to say goodbye 

Mama, I’m coming home 

I could be right, I could be wrong It hurts so bad, it’s been so long

Mama, I’m coming home

I am standing in front of confectionary store. Today is your birthday too. I have bought a vanilla cake with cherry toppings. I know u hate every other flavors because u think they stink like medicines. I hope some day I will become successful as vanilla so u will love me some day.



11 thoughts on “Moma  I m coming home.

  1. Abuse is an awful, awful thing. The circle of abuse must be broken. It is a very difficult thing to do. I have written a bit about abuse too. Not nearly as physical as this story. There was emotional abuse and some physical and some neglect in my family. If you care to read:

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Ya. Abuse is awful. It has to be stopped but sometimes its just out of our hands. I feel you 🙂 I like your post. Its like lime sweet and sour. Will be looking forward for more great post 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Thank you and ditto. (I am wondering, is this true or is this fiction?)


      2. Well, some part of it is true, some is fiction. Like I haven’t yet been rejected 10 times 😅😅 but then abuse and leaving home is true.

        Liked by 1 person

      3. Wow. So brave. I find it very helpful to write about the disturbing stuff from my childhood and the mental illness episodes from adulthood. Just to get it down is helpful.

        Liked by 1 person

      4. Hey. How are you doing now? Has that phase disappeared? . Are living happily now?

        Liked by 1 person

      5. I am taking lithium now and it has made a huge positive improvement in my life. I am stable mentally which is good. I wrote about that in
        And crazy train.

        Liked by 1 person

      6. This story almost made me ready eyed. . I was reading at first reading about ur labour i was sad and then when leo arrived on this earth, that moment must have been best moment of your life. Even after suffering from mental illness you strived to be happy. I love your fight 🙂 i m younger than you just 19 year old. But i can wish god to bless you with more and more happiness 🙂 by the way whats your definition of happiness?

        Liked by 1 person

  2. Little Clouds thank you for reading. Mental illness is often misunderstood. It’s really important for us to write about our hardships because it helps people to know that they are not alone. The best piece of advice I can give for finding happiness is to keep life simple and find joy in the simple things in life. For me that is walking in nature, looking at the sunset, eating a home cooked meal with Leo and Dean. Also, lowering expectations.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Oh my goodness. So do YOU!

    Liked by 1 person

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