We are ‘Home’


Its amazing how the term ‘Home’ gets all relative….It was just today when it struck me, as I posted on FB after a long time and wrote “ Finally, Having a relaxed evening at Home” …Home….Really? Yes, Home!

Its like a ceremony our heart performs to upgrade a place to be called ‘Home’ when we decorate it with little things that we carefully select, where we have the comfort of anything and everything we need, spend cuddly time with our family. It’s a synonym of our time there, our personality, our choices….its just all about us.

                                                                                               View from my Home

Now, it’s a small n cozy apartment here in another part of the world that I had never known, that I pronounce as my home( although technically its not, am just a tenant), but still, its my Home, which my hubby and I decorated as we wanted it to be, where my young daughter has a toy room which is a world to her, where in the kitchen I have all things at place where I like them to be, and where my hubby has all his kids[ I call his gadgets that, since he loves them just like one] where he would like to put them…where we all have cuddly hugs and we sing songs or just hang out together watching ‘FRIENDS’[ I should start calling that sit-com as our family anthem, even the 3 yr old Aahana can repeat the dialogues now,I think there hasn’t been a week when we dint play it, at least once], where in the evening everyday I wait to hear “Honey, am Home!”

A few days back, Home was somewhere else….a few thousand miles away…..and a few years back….somewhere else….

So technically, is home only at Yamunanagar [India], where I was born, where my roots are…..Or is it at Faridabad [India], where I grew up, where my Parents are….or is it at Lucknow [India], where my Parents-in-Law live….Or Is it at Cyprus,where we started our lives as a married couple….or at Pune[India] where we Technically ‘own’ a place, where Aahana was born….or at Malaysia, where I couldn’t stop my tears when leaving the home….Or is it Here, where I have chosen to come!

I remember an incident from my childhood, I was hardly a teenager, when we visited our ‘then’ house at Yamunanagar, after having moved to Faridabad a few years before. The now-occupants were a friend of my parents, and we stopped to pay them a visit, on our way to my grandparents place. My God, how it had pained me to see them having re-decorated the place in their own taste and was all the more horrified when I looked at what had been my room, though it was decorated in a perfectly civilized way, but it wasn’t the way when it was ‘Mine’….and hence the horror…..I couldn’t bear to stay indoors, and hence with my neighbor friend, had a stroll in the garden until my parents came out…Never did I accompany them to those family friends again.

We were just married and hardly a day old at Cyprus, when Bhupesh and I were invited by his old roomies to their place. It had pinched me a little to hear Bhupesh say as he lay on the couch ’Now this is coming back to home’. I was all excited about “Our Home” but he was more comfortable at the place where he had stayed….Well, I did understand later though….

And ain’t it ironic, when I say, am going ‘Home’ next week for 2 months but I’ll miss ‘Home’…Sigh!

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