Our House

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Our House.”

I don’t remember the exact details of the house I grew up but I do remember few bits and pieces of it. It was neither a quiet place nor a bustling arena. It was somewhere in the middle, serene during the days and noisy when it needed to be. I grew up with my sisters who were not so clamorous but they had their loud voices to fill up the room when it was necessary. Few hours of TV silenced everything else, as most of us were attracted to shows and soaps. It wore peace whenever there was a worship or a special occasion. We were blessed with joy, sweets and toys during special times. It was a happy place, our home. It’s a bit sad when I am not able to recollect everything.


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