Makes me want to go home…but then the million dollar question is...where’s home? Isn’t this home, the cozy nest that I've painstakingly built, which I share with my two boys? Is the cavernous mansion in Kolkata home, where my mom is spending her twilight years with two ailing dogs and a lifetime of memories as company? Or is it the house by the lake, where I was born, where I grew up, where every nook and corner has memories of my father, of which I dream about even after leaving it quarter of a century back? How about the shoe-box size flat in Bangalore, my very own space for the first time, where I learnt many a important lesson in life including atta-daal ka bhav? Is it the tiny apartment in Redmond I stepped into as a blushing bride to be greeted by a room full of pink and yellow and white balloons? Or the suburban house where I grew lilies and roses and the backyard patio still has the handprint of my baby boy in wet cement? Should I go back to the designer home in Hyderabad with its film star neighbors and army of servants? They say home is where the heart is…then where do I have to go to feel at home?
Going home, where love abounds..
Coming home, where comfort is found.
After many journeys long,
you turn back to where you belong.
Home again, where you find rest.
From every trial and every test
3 comments:
whoaw! you have so many homes. fortunately (or unfortunately) i don't have much. sut still i guess, home is where the heart is. and heart is where mother is.
You're right Ghetu, no matter where I live home will always be where Ma is!
To me being home sick means being alone at that point of time and being alone is a type of sickness to my opinion. Though the literal meaning of home is different and made out of concrete/wood/mud, you are right by telling home is where u get love,peace and serenity. After all we are in search of that with whatever means we can afford.
Don't u worry, u are at home.
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