The Place I Can Call Anything But Home
written by: S. Akbar
I returned home today
Just to find a spotless place.
Everything is in its place—
The scattered pins, the makeup thingies
The worn books, the unfolded blanket
The dehydrated plants, the broken pieces of the anklet
Dirty dishes in the sink, stained cloths on the floor!
Spotless!
One might think I’m lucky.
Or, a spoiled brat who doesn’t know how to be thankful!
But all I can see is a house—
A house that doesn’t crave my existence.
I never saw, but I can bet—
A home would have been different!
Latest posts by S. Akbar (see all)
- The Place I Can Call Anything But Home - February 28, 2026
- A Note to Melancholy - July 23, 2025



