Sarakshi Misra

To Where I Belong

I carry a place inside my heart,

A quiet world where I never feel apart.

It is stitched with memories, soft and bright,

Like warm morning sun and gentle night.

I still remember my childhood days,

Running through fields in golden haze.

Bare feet touching the cool wet ground,

Hearing laughter as I spun around.

I hear my mother humming low,

A song only my heart seems to know.

The smell of chai, the kitchen light,

Simple moments that feel just right.

My grandparents’ stories stay with me still,

Of old traditions and will of steel.

They taught me kindness, strength, and care,

And how love is something always there.

There is a home I miss each day,

Where evening skies turn soft and gray.

Where festivals bloom like colors in air,

And joy and prayer are everywhere.

Even now, when life feels fast,

And moments rush and never last,

I close my eyes and start to see,

All that once was part of me.

Home is not just walls or name,

It is warmth that always stays the same.

It is laughter, roots, and every part

That quietly lives inside my heart.

So when I ask where I belong,

I hear a soft and steady song.

It says with love, both deep and true—

“You are home in everything you do.”