Home Vol. III Issue 13 Home Sweet Ho...

Home Sweet Home


Home Sweet Home:

When I first landed in the US of A, it was a dream come true. I was finally in the land of fast cars, spicy burgers, Jack Daniels and fantastic gadgets. The initial couple of months could only be described as being in heaven. But then, within six months, it was over. I was back in hell. I was missing the dirty stench, the crowded streets and the street food of Mumbai. I was missing Home…Sweet Home.

And that is how home works, isn’t it? So what is it about a place that drives us back to it? Is it the comfort of the furniture? Or the protection that the walls offer? Or is it just the warmth of the fire? A home is not just about four walls but the place around it, the feeling of being that it brings along with it. Every piece around those four walls has a significance of its own, memories of its own. A home is where we get the sense of belonging.

I have heard people banter on about how wonderfully their home is decked up. And I wonder… is that what a home is about? It’s a house that is being mentioned here. A home is where the heart is and not all the interior decoration. A home grows on you, a home draws you to it, a home misses you. And no amount of cosmetic decoration is going to make it feel any more better.

Even in these modern times when the entire world is up for grabs and the lure of a career governs the travelling and living patterns, our home draws us. How ecstatic is the feeling of feeling the home turf after a migration? Even the air seems to have its own unique flavour. A home is that part of our lives; we always try to get away from. We may find a million reasons for not being in the place that makes us feel liked, feel special. But the Home always draws us. And that is why it is Home..Sweet Home.

Home is such a wonderful place that it has found place in every bit of our culture. From poems to songs and from writings to paintings, a home is perhaps the most covered subject in any form of art. But also perhaps the most ignored. As we try desperately to find our own place on the planet, what we are also trying to find is to find out own “place”, a place to call our own, a place called home.

We welcome your comments at letters@friedeye.com

Previous articleThe Drive Home
Next articleTwo Homes and Infidelity
I am a nobody. In the Matrix, I am a software engineer, struggling to survive in the race to nowhere. I lead a normal happily married life, full of the usual hope and apprehensions. I worry about small things, I crib about low wages, I hate the politicians and their policies and wish I had a better life. Outside the Matrix, however, it is a different story. I put on my earphones, cut myself away from the fake world and let my fingers take me to a world of dreams and fantasy. I do not complain here, in this world of words and puntuations. I find divinty with the Almighty when I write.I write about life, my experiences, my hopes, my wishes and some stuff not at all related to me. And music is the blue pill which takes me out of this everyday life. It is the Bodhi Tree under which I stand enlightened. So this then is my world. I can also be found at: http://vinayakgole.blogspot.com/