Few more steps

“Is it possible for home to be a person and not a place?” 

– Stephanie Perkins
I check my bag for the keys. Inserting it into the hole, I open the door.

Bismillahi Rahmani Rahim.

That smell. That warmth. That comfort. I am back. I am back home. (alhamdulillah)

**

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Being brought in a place which is not my homeland, being a part of an expatriate family, you mostly live in a place which is not owned by you. We pay for it for the months that we stay here. But its still my home. My Home which is always in Riyadh.

This place, that we started living in since I was nearly 4. The place which hosted my 4th Birthday party, the place where I grew up to become me, the place which saw the birth of my siblings, the ups and downs of my family. These walls have been a witness to all my successes, my failures, my joyous moments, my breakdowns. These walls were where I would lean on and cry when I broke down. These walls saw me grow up and become the present me.

It was just recently I came to realise how much I love this place and how much I am going to miss it once I leave. This place, which was my home for the past 14 years of my life. Its just recently that I realised this place held a certain comforting smell and warmth within it. This place would be ready to engulf me into its warmth as soon as I enter. And that puts a smile on my face. The sense of relief that comes with entering this place – its unreplacable. When we go out, I look back at my home and it whispers to me, Come back soon. We are going to miss you. And when I come back to it, I have a smile which conveys it all to those walls – I am back people! I am back home. And I feel them engulfing me to ebb away all the tiredness of my journey.

But the day isnt far, when I leave, that I wont be able to come back to them and adorn that smile. The day is not far, when I will be away from my home. And there is always this indefinite itching to pack my whole home and put it in my baggage and take it back to India. Sigh. Its a pity that I cant do that.

And there is always this dream in the deep corners of my heart, to come back at some point of time in my future and experience the warmth that it always provided me. I know its silly. But I can dream. I still can dream. Because its MY HOME after all. My very own home.

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” Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in. “– Robert Frost

But isnt home the place where your loved ones are? Yes. And with that hope for the future I would be ready to let go.

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