My hand bleeds to paint,
Splitter spatter here and there, Everywhere.
Wanting the warmth of embrace,
By it's friends,
Brushes of goat hair.
Papers, paints and palette,
All what it would want to hold.
Has so many wishes,
More than "The Hand", so bold.

The moment you leave your home,
To hostel Or your dome.
It's done!
It's not the same any more.
Though you may return,
Weekly Or monthly,
But the lump in your heart,
When you realise you gotta go back.
It makes you feel like you don't belong,
In there, the place that's yours forever.
You feel like your days are numbered,
You count the days left and behave,
You take all the love and joy,
In the packages from mom,
And pocket money from dad,
Hugs from brother, kisses from each other.
Yet you yearn for that permanent feeling,
That you are home completely.
Fully, in a way that's really true.
And take that heavy heart pack it all,
Go to the place that you now temporarily belong to.
So you can come to back to your place.
When it's finally time to.

These empty beds,
And the silent rooms.
Have we got to the end?
The days really have come to an end.
The tress, the birds, and the lady bugs,
When will I meet these buds again?
Morning Yoga and Morning walks,
Are what I always waited for.
Landscape and OU's nature,
Made my whole gallery fill with her.
Walking to the college and to the hostel,
Days have gone by just like a tide.
Going to the mess hall with my friends,
Conversations in there just don't end.
Walking to Arts whenever we wanted to,
Talking for hours on the green grass and shades too.
Group studies and night outs,
Workshops and Labs,
Civil and CELT,
Instant plans and escaping seminars,
NCC and Ratnadeep,
Saraswathi and Yellamma temple,
Arts Landscape and Health center,
City wok and Tasty crunch,
Cycling and our Adda,
Jamai Osmania and MMTS
Koti and Secunderabad
Bawarchi and Sri Ramana,
210 and G4
Who could've thought it would end this fast,
Time machine is what I wish for at last.
Adieu to you
And I'll miss you.