A time when you are never home

You are walking past the subway station, and your eyes gaze at the sight of a sibling duo taking long scoops of ice cream. In another instance, you see a son pulling at the drapes of his mother's, whining to get that extravagant toy; you take a long sigh and dwell on the idea that you miss home. You get back to the house of your childhood, the serene gardens and bizarre graffiti from a different time, a simpler one, where days vied into the comfort of cosy nights and woke you up to dreamy sunshine. The sweet scent of the sun brushes your homecoming cheeks, and you find yourself missing home again.?

As the longing for various places snuggles into many chambers of your heart, you come to the epiphany that you will probably never be home now. Your solemn heart would always stretch for the touch of that stability and rest you felt before you packed up and moved out to start the new expedition of your life. So does it insinuate that moving out to create a new life calls for giving up on home? While nihilists may agree with the statement, most folks would exhale a big NAY! The truth is, in the twisted juggle of defining home, we all grew up. From the pampered kid with myriad tantrums, we all brought to life the pipe dream of making our abode in a new city that resembles the hope and feel of the home we left behind.

The constant yearning entails that home was never a place; it was always the people we surround ourselves with. The people who saw us shed ugly tears at the slightest inconvenience and go numb at the gravest of times. People who caught you off guard and on, who can detect your upcoming calamity with a mere hint of flinch and twist. There is one home you grew up in, which flourished you in many hues and charms. The place that would always emanate a sacred and innocent calm miles away from the complexities of a broken life. Even today, waking up with a runny nose and blues of the season, you hope for that humming hug from Maa. You still hope that on some days, you can take a rain check from the long switch of vehicles and wait for Dad to drop you at the destination, just like school days.?

As much the longing of nostalgia aches you, the new place in the new city with its nude curtains on the window panes, the floral walls, the badges of your favourite show on the fridge, the mug you received on the first day of your move-in, doesn't feel so new or alien anymore. It feels your own, nothing more or short of home. The new home is a fulfilling replica of every little aspiration we have gathered in our soft corner of dreams over the years. And that's the cheer which, despite the block of homesickness, provides a sweet release of drill every morning and lets us unfold the day in velvet sheets.?