back home after a long time, three months actually, but this time, even three months seem long. maybe because i lived quite a life in these last three months, enjoyed life after a long time. lived every day, every moment. maybe because nothing is really calling me back to where i came from. so i get time to enjoy the moment.
back home, and nothing is changed, nothings changed about how i feel about my home, the familiarity, the sense of belonging, the sense of owning. there are small cosmetic changes, but its still home.
am at peace here, no where else. i have told this countless times to countless friends, after work, i really don't feel relaxed coming to my room, after the days over at office, i wonder what to do, try to find things to do which will delay my inevitable return to my room, because there is no one waiting for me there. its just an empty lifeless room, nothing i can call mine. but here i have people waiting, dogs waiting, my entire setup (comp and TV side by side) waiting. there are midnight snacks waiting, cold water in the fridge, the floor is waiting for me to walk around, the view from my balcony is waiting.
and the city is waiting, i love this city, ahmedabad, my abode, well on and off abode for last 11 odd years, waiting, ahmedabad is different from any other city i have seen, its huge, bursting at it seems, its quite well developed, malls and stuff, and u'd expect it to be very fast, but there is this laziness about the pace of this city, it never seems rushed. there are no hassels here, everyone is happy in doing what they do, i love this city, or may be i am just too familiar with it.
home also brings back memories, the city brings back memories, of times spent together, loving or fighting, but spent together. memories which i thouht had faded, but they lurk around right around the corner. and the problem with memories is that they always make life seem incomplete, because life was kinda complete when i was living those memories.
for sometime almost exactly an year ago, i found home in someone, the presence made me feel at home, the touch made me relax, forget the day and come to peace. home is nothing but familiarity, security and trush, and by that definition, i have many varying degrees of home. home is not a place, its people, its touch, its the warmth u feel.
take care.
back home, and nothing is changed, nothings changed about how i feel about my home, the familiarity, the sense of belonging, the sense of owning. there are small cosmetic changes, but its still home.
am at peace here, no where else. i have told this countless times to countless friends, after work, i really don't feel relaxed coming to my room, after the days over at office, i wonder what to do, try to find things to do which will delay my inevitable return to my room, because there is no one waiting for me there. its just an empty lifeless room, nothing i can call mine. but here i have people waiting, dogs waiting, my entire setup (comp and TV side by side) waiting. there are midnight snacks waiting, cold water in the fridge, the floor is waiting for me to walk around, the view from my balcony is waiting.
and the city is waiting, i love this city, ahmedabad, my abode, well on and off abode for last 11 odd years, waiting, ahmedabad is different from any other city i have seen, its huge, bursting at it seems, its quite well developed, malls and stuff, and u'd expect it to be very fast, but there is this laziness about the pace of this city, it never seems rushed. there are no hassels here, everyone is happy in doing what they do, i love this city, or may be i am just too familiar with it.
home also brings back memories, the city brings back memories, of times spent together, loving or fighting, but spent together. memories which i thouht had faded, but they lurk around right around the corner. and the problem with memories is that they always make life seem incomplete, because life was kinda complete when i was living those memories.
for sometime almost exactly an year ago, i found home in someone, the presence made me feel at home, the touch made me relax, forget the day and come to peace. home is nothing but familiarity, security and trush, and by that definition, i have many varying degrees of home. home is not a place, its people, its touch, its the warmth u feel.
take care.
I guess we agree here... being at home is a feeling that can be brought about by a person, a place, a memory..anything. whatever brings you back to your ground state like an electron which has being jumping around and needs to get back from the excited state ;) and yes, we feel at home most when we are with our loved ones.
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