I miss my home me and my world I miss my home where I use to live, laugh, smile and weep. My home was filled with love and security where whenever I reached my home my daddy was standing any repairing a gun at his table and my Dada was sitting on his chair with many people mostly his acquaintances sitting around him. I had a very special relation with them as most of them my either Dada or chachcha. My home was most of the time filled with liveliness, some of my Apas were sitting and making their dresses or doing some needle work and my sisters were also there and every time they were eating. A vibe was happiness use to prevail in the atmosphere of my house and the entire area was filled with huge unformalities where I was able to shout and laugh without any reason and I use to get even admirers and critics as I was presenting some piece of art. By nature I was a poet but my audience was only my little sister and I was her audience. We were young and beautiful and ...