Yesterday morning, when I was rushing against time transferring buckets of water to the bigger bucket in the bathroom for my bath (the tap water was unusually dirty), I realised how much I missed home.
I'm not referring to a specific home, just the idea of it. I guess you can get used to a place, and still be reluctant to label it home.
Or maybe, you grow up getting used to a certain place that you will, in the future, come to associate with home.
Maybe it has something to do with warmth, or a certain bonding. That's why it takes time.
The bonding for me, happens when I come home after a certain thing takes place. Then later, this is the place that I think of in recollection. The more happens, the stronger the bonding will be...because it constitutes a bigger and bigger part of my life.
Years later, the only possible way for me to go back, is to recall things in fragments...I hope then, these little associations won't fail me.
1 comment:
In my opionion Home is a place where u feel free...feel good...and dont want to leave the place...there you get unconditional love, caring, etc etc. Home is the best place in the world and everything is second to it...
Post a Comment