The bliss called Home


The fan revolves with a snail’s speed and my kid brother watches it slog in the summer afternoon.I am sitting on a sofa and i flip through the pages of a magazine and occasionally watch the kid do his little tantrums,his habit.The room is an ordinary living room with a flat T.V hanging on the wall with some photographs nailed above it.The room is occupied by a huge bed that is ancient.A marble dining table is kept on the left with loads of household things covering it’s surface.The room cooler is working but it doesn’t seem to have any effect on the temperature of the extremely hot environment.
The doorbell rings and announces the arrival of my uncle.He is a kind man with a heart of gold and always flaunts his pretty smile.The doorbell informs my granny that her son has returned and it’s time for her to sit down with him to talk about what had happened the whole day giving him minute details of what the maid and the gardener did in the garden.Her eyes always light up when my uncle returns from work.My aunt is too busy with her toddler and hardly has time for anything else.My mother and my brother have come a couple of days before and are enjoying the change of place.My mother is ecstatic on being near her mother and my brother is happy because he gets to swim in the pool which is built in the garden.Everyone is engaged in some or the other conversation.
I love the environment.The bonding that i have with my family is something i can’t exchange for anything in the world.I am sitting in the corner and observing what’s happening around and i finally feel i am home.There is nothing that can beat the feeling of being loved and cared.It’s like the elixir of life and the primary factor that decides the growth of a person.The more you were loved the better the person you are.I grew up under the loving but the strict guidance of my mom and dad.I say mom before my dad because as a child and even now i am closer to my mom than my dad.Some differences always cropped up between my dad and me because of a lot of things but my mom always did the work of a sewing machine to stitch together the relation and make it strong.My brother is growing under the same rules and regulations.I sometimes feel a difference of attitude towards my brother and my myself because of the boy-girl factor but i chuck that fact out as misconception and a figment of my over thinking and imagination as my parents dote their “only” daughter.I have spent a wonderful childhood and the mesmerizing memories are still fresh in my mind with the summer vacations in Kausani(a hill station) because of my parents’ resort and also at my granny’s abode with delicious sweet mangoes and unlimited time in the pool with my cousins.The winter vacations were short but my parents always took me out to some or the other place for fun.


Right now i am 21 and i have loads of delightful memories of the past with my family.I chose to stay at home and study in college when my peers were going places to study because i just couldn’t bear the thought of separating from my home.My home is my cocoon and i love the cocoon.It’s guarded and cozy,i get the best food in the world here and my day ends with a kiss from my life,my mother.I have a collection of my favourite books and comics that i have collected since i was a kid.Each wall has a special memory and each corner tells a hush-hush secret.
But i know this is not going to last forever and until then i am going enjoy my privy place,giving peeps into my old photo albums and journals.I leave with a quote-
Where we love is home,
Home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.
~Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr., Homesick in Heaven

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2 thoughts on “The bliss called Home

  1. Sweet one dear! we all love our homes and being in the cocoons.Kausani reminds me of some old visit of mine with my parents at the beautiful place

    • Thank you for such kind words.i am glad you liked my post.I think you should visit kausani again.i will be pleased to assisit you if you plan to go there anytime. 🙂

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