October 18, 2017
It feels weird being back here.
I have no particular memories of happiness associated to this place.
This small house that has no real place in my heart has remained just the way it was. The two roomed ‘house’ I stayed in as a kid, was never a place that I truly called home.
In fact, I was thrilled when we all moved to the city and I thought we had padlocked this place for good.
I have come here to sell this place off today.
As I walk across the dusty rooms, I see faded scribbles and drawings drawn with different colored crayons on the wall at about 3 feet off the ground.
My mind instantly goes to faint memories of many blissful afternoons of creating ‘inspired art’ with my sibling and my mother’s incessant scolding.
As I turn away from the scribbles and the wall, I smile faintly.
It seems like I do have some memories of this place.
WORD COUNT : 160
WRITTEN FOR #FFfAW 137
PHOTO CREDITS : Grant-Sud
Mysuru, Karnataka, India
The world in my eyes... 
Beautifully written
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Cute story! Oh, the memories we have of scribbling on our home’s walls as kids. Great story!
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Sweet story, I liked the way her memories came flooding back.
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Thanks Iain!
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Nice story Divya!!
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Thank you!
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That’s a good story. Well done.
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Thank you!
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If you look hard enough, there is almost always at least one fond childhood memory.
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That’s true!
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A worthy realization.. Sometimes, the memory of childhood will bring all the light required for the situation.
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