Leaving. Fleeing. Knowing you will come back. Knowing you will never come back. Journeying. Escaping. Mixed emotions.  Many miles. Wondering if it will happen. Will I make it? If I get caught, what shall I say? Safe? I’ll go back and get it. Will I go back and get it? How do I feel knowing that I may never see my home again? That can’t be true.

Let it go. I don’t need it. I need to feed myself, my family. It keeps me safe. Mud transplanted. If I don’t cross I will never cross. Clothes to keep me warm. Generic clothes. Nobody should recognise me.

Everyday things disappeared. Bought. Confiscated. Lost in transition. Sold. Burned.

Some smuggled in. Hidden in clothes. Those that made it are now centerpieces of people’s homes. Carefully locked into a Godrej. Cherished.

Objects as language. Collected. Museumised. Archived. Change in use. An everyday object with a story.  A history added.

What will you take if you go back?

“Knowledge. Nothing. Myself. My books because everything I learned and everything I became came from words of thinkers I never met.”

Will you go back? Is the dream of going back the reality that keeps you going? 

Memory & reality. Reality & memory. Merge.

Shifting. What remains? A whole new home is being formed.  Makeshift. Transiting. Transition. Permanent.