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[meandmymusings]

I carry it with me, always,

and no distance—no time—will loosen its hold.

Perhaps I cannot outrun what I never truly left.

Mohith Sekharamahanthi

[meandmymusings]

And now I wonder: is it the noise I’m fleeing,

or was it always myself?

The home I fled isn’t behind me. It never was.

[meandmymusings]

I am both captive and keeper,

wandering the corridors of a prison I carry.

Every step pulls me deeper into the thing I believed I’d left behind.

[meandmymusings]

The shouts I thought I could escape have woven into the fabric of my thoughts,

no longer just sounds I once heard,

but now the very essence of what I am.

[meandmymusings]

The walls I fled have rebuilt themselves within me,

silent yet unyielding.

My mind is no longer my own but a house—a house of noise.

[meandmymusings]

They slipped quietly into my mind,

creeping like mist,

filling spaces I didn’t know existed.

[meandmymusings]

Was it the walls, the voices, or something else?

The echoes aren’t there anymore—they’re here.

In me.

[meandmymusings]

But now, as I walk through strange streets,

past faces that blur like shadows,

I wonder: what was it I truly left behind?

[meandmymusings]

I believed—so surely—that once I left,

the noise would remain bound to those four walls,

trapped in the house I fled.

[meandmymusings]

I thought distance would scatter the shouts,

that the echoes would dissolve into the miles behind me,

fading into the air like whispers lost to the wind.

[meandmymusings]

I thought distance would scatter the shouts, that the echoes would dissolve into the miles behind me, fading into the air like whispers lost to the wind. I believed—so surely—that once I left, the noise would remain bound to those four walls where I grew up, trapped in the house I fled. But now, as I walk through strange streets, past faces that blur like shadows, I wonder what was it I truly left behind? Was it the walls, the voices, or something else? The echoes aren’t there anymore—they’re here. In me. They slipped quietly into my mind, creeping like mist, filling spaces I didn’t know existed.

The walls I fled have rebuilt themselves within me, silent yet unyielding. My mind is no longer my own but a house—a house of noise. The shouts I thought I could escape have woven into the fabric of my thoughts, no longer just sounds I once heard, but now the very essence of what I am. I am both captive and keeper, wandering the corridors of a prison I carry. Every step pulls me deeper into the thing I believed I’d left behind, and now I wonder: is it the noise I’m fleeing, or was it always myself?

And so I search—searching for silence, for peace, for a sanctuary where the past might unravel and the echoes might finally fade. But perhaps those who search for a home are already carrying it within them—not as a refuge, but as a burden. The home I fled isn’t behind me. It never was. It clings to me like ivy, its roots entwined deep in my soul. I carry it with me, always, and no distance—no time—will loosen its hold.

The truth is this: the home I search for was never a place. It was always within me, lingering in the silence between breaths, haunting the quiet I thought I could find. I wander, but the ghost of that home follows, a shadow that no light can dispel. I run, but the walls stay with me, as though they were never walls at all. Just echoes. Just me.

Perhaps I cannot outrun what I never truly left.

Mohith Sekharamahanthi

[meandmymusings]

In the desolate hours of my solitary nights, I breathe her name as my prayer.

I inscribe her essence by inking my thoughts of how i worship her.

Often, I find myself martyred in her memory,

And the words I entwine around her

Weave into a timeless tapestry, a comforting canopy,

A shawl of warmth that envelops me,

Cradling me, carrying me through the endless night.

Mohith Sekharamahanthi

[meandmymusings]

Happy Birthday :)❤️

[meandmymusings]

Do we see the world for our dear ones who are dead

or

Do we see the world with our dear ones who are dead ?

[meandmymusings]

Can you hold me close, like roses in your care,

In your arms, I'd find refuge beyond compare.

Can you embrace me tightly till my ribs break,

Piercing my heart in a death I'd gladly take.

I'd reach heaven's gate even before my final breath,

Locking you in the pupil of my eye until my death

[meandmymusings]

In a fleeting glance, her portrait I spied,

Adorned in white, her cascading strands flowed like liquid sunlight.

Cradling a bouquet of roses, in their crimson hue she takes pride, Longing intensified in a way i couldn't hide.

Oh, to be those blooms, embraced in her grace,

Those flowers have definitely found their comforting solace.

[meandmymusings]

Deep within me, a universe unfolds; spinning, a profound paradox untold.

Each dawn, I bury my sorrows beneath the sarcasm; a solemn funeral, beyond what depths I can fathom.

But, as dusk falls, like phoenixes from the dark, they take rebirth in flames;

Everything I tried to bury silently resurfaces and remains.

Not a day passes without the dualities dancing in me, where lights and shadows merge,

A symphony of silence and screams; in the garden of memories, echoes surge.

Mohith Sekharamahanthi