Coming Back.

How vulnerable you become when you travel back to Bihar. In the hoardings of entitlement, you lose your empowerment, when your eyes fade with the oppression by the muscle power and negligences of the elite, makes your social obligation tremble and you sneak back to your identity by keeping silence and breathing polluted air filled with risks. Where your hustling makes juggle to your soul. Living in the past, you miss your little memories, which are small in numbers. Deep in vague, you love your background (patriarch), at the same time, you hate in a haze. You call your friends back there, who left out in being less skilled labor. You talk with excitement wherein conversation you express empowerment but in reptile, nature having guilty deep down the skin you miss home, which crowded with entitled hoardings. Without the color of your soul, you show patchy entitlement in conversation.
Whenever you feel deprived by classes and see injustice to you or your fellows, social-obligation calls to your soul, ‘this is enough suffering, not again.’ The soul sees your hustling, keeps juggling at a pace where you are on the verge to lose your breath. Then polluted air filled with risks starts your breath to lose its end. The fight goes on, you keep balancing it. But again all around you see the people with their entitlements, making you lose your senses. The vicious cycle keeps going on.

Dedicated to my Hometown, Bettiah, Bihar.

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