My Safe Haven
Image credits : Unsplash Every time there’s a certain void, I experience spine-chills. Terrified, I close my eyes to calm myself. There it is. My ‘safe haven.’ It isn’t a ‘place’ but usually a seamless memory tape that I hold close to my heart. --- 'I’m four or so. Everything seems to be beyond my comprehension. I hear the patter of the raindrops falling on the surface. The musty smell of petrichor fills my nose. It’s a dull afternoon with no sign of the sun and the skies oozing of melancholy. I see an image…an image of the wooden door to my grandmother’s house. I’m standing under the shade waiting for the door to open. It seems to be an endless wait. I stand there in front of the door with a lot of questions and no answers.' This memory keeps coming back to me time and again. Is it because I miss her? Is it because she left us before I could know what she thought of me? Is it the ‘vulnerable me’ seeking strength from the brave woman who fought all odds by herself? Befo...
