A friend of mine once told me that whenever someone visited him, he wished they would leave something behind, so that he would always have a part of them with him.
You might never know how much you mean to someone because it’s impossible to measure how much of them you took with you before you left them.. But perhaps if you come back to them, you might just know.
They say walls have ears, but did you know they could speak as well?
After my 6th grade, I left my humble home in Trivandrum (renting it out temporarily) to the fast-paced life in Chennai-one of the fastest growing metros. Five years just flew past and I had to return home for 2 days to attend a family function. When I entered through the gates, repainted many times, there was this rush of familiarity, like embracing an old friend. I saw the platform beside the car park area. The day the cement was laid afresh, my dad and I wrote the date on it-30/9/2000...no matter how many times it was painted on, it was still visible. As I walked down the steps I recollected how I used to run up and down, playing, laughing as a child, my pictures being taken. The hibiscus plant waved me a Hi -"Do u remember me? You used to pick one flower from me every day." I took a walk around the place, the water tap beneath which my pet cats used to sun bathe, the moss gathered brick wall from where I used to pick giant red ants and examine them, the washing stone atop which I used to stand to wave to the neighbors beyond the wall. I confidently walked barefoot on the stones because I knew these grounds had made my feet strong. As I entered the house, I could hear the walls talking to me-"Welcome back". A sudden rush of memories.. "This is the spot where you used to swing with your nanny, this is where you used to play hide and seek, this used to be your study table, this is where your cradle used to be hung.. Do you remember?" I do! I do! I remember everything! Everything is still the same! I’ve come back home! I never knew I missed home so much, I was so caught up with running with the world..
It happens to all of us doesn't it? But the best part is, home is always where you left it, how you left it, its somewhere you can always come back to, to be yourself..
WHO SAYS YOU CAN'T GO HOME?
You might never know how much you mean to someone because it’s impossible to measure how much of them you took with you before you left them.. But perhaps if you come back to them, you might just know.
They say walls have ears, but did you know they could speak as well?
After my 6th grade, I left my humble home in Trivandrum (renting it out temporarily) to the fast-paced life in Chennai-one of the fastest growing metros. Five years just flew past and I had to return home for 2 days to attend a family function. When I entered through the gates, repainted many times, there was this rush of familiarity, like embracing an old friend. I saw the platform beside the car park area. The day the cement was laid afresh, my dad and I wrote the date on it-30/9/2000...no matter how many times it was painted on, it was still visible. As I walked down the steps I recollected how I used to run up and down, playing, laughing as a child, my pictures being taken. The hibiscus plant waved me a Hi -"Do u remember me? You used to pick one flower from me every day." I took a walk around the place, the water tap beneath which my pet cats used to sun bathe, the moss gathered brick wall from where I used to pick giant red ants and examine them, the washing stone atop which I used to stand to wave to the neighbors beyond the wall. I confidently walked barefoot on the stones because I knew these grounds had made my feet strong. As I entered the house, I could hear the walls talking to me-"Welcome back". A sudden rush of memories.. "This is the spot where you used to swing with your nanny, this is where you used to play hide and seek, this used to be your study table, this is where your cradle used to be hung.. Do you remember?" I do! I do! I remember everything! Everything is still the same! I’ve come back home! I never knew I missed home so much, I was so caught up with running with the world..
It happens to all of us doesn't it? But the best part is, home is always where you left it, how you left it, its somewhere you can always come back to, to be yourself..
WHO SAYS YOU CAN'T GO HOME?