HOME & not alone

When I was told I was born and this was home, I took it all in and eternally inscribed its meaning in my head and heart :

a) a warm, loving area with few walls;

b) a structure that is not limiting, yet needs some adherence to certain unsaid rules;

c) a place where both air and breath move freely in harmony;

d) a hearth where people thrive;

e) home is free of judgment;

f)  The Home Tree can be planted anywhere, and all other definitions take with the seed, and grow organically when nurtured and watered regularly;

f) the heart of the matter is in each member of Home.

So having culled the above as home-awareness dawned on little me, I grew up tenderly nursing these ideas, and they were engrained in me, subtly taking root. With a wonderful childhood in the exciting lanes of Defense Colony, Delhi, I bounced around, a happy, cheerful kid with not a care in the world. Home was a fat Frigidaire full of goodies; a place where I could be the most carefree version of myself with no obligations to complete school homework, or worry about anyone picking on me for anything at all; Home was love, Home was all fun. But it didn’t last, since nothing good is meant to last, is it!

The familiar and good was rudely snatched away, and I had to be put in a hostel, which was not half bad, however it wasn’t Home. No mother jingling her bangles and wiping the sweat of my brow; no elder sister to squabble with, or tease; no tasty home-cooked food, no bread to roll up with dollops of condensed milk and overeat, none of that. These lacunae lasted a few years, but the sentiment that I must return home, persisted. When I married – I got my chance to recreate the magic of Home, with me at its center.

The rest of my life has been spent recreating all of what Home meant to me then, and continues to mean to me in the now.  The thing is, as a married person, I’ve had to do this recreating over and over. We have been nomads, moving from one city to another, and at every juncture, I’ve pulled out all the stops. Folk, those steady folk, who have lived in one city for over twenty years, marvel at how quickly we bring it all together. Then there are the army kids, who get it. There are others, who’ve never moved, and find it appalling that we do, and say it out loud too, ‘but why, how, for what? Don’t you get tired, and miserable?” Nope. Nah.  Moving became a part of our married existence, and we always carried Home with us. It meant being ready, being cheerful and warm and welcoming all the time. Were we? Most days, yes.  Home has become the symbol of a steady stability, in the middle of unsureness, and limited time capsules, and far more than pots and pans, and wall decorations. Home on the move, is a concept we developed.

An ‘On-the-Move-Home’ is an expensive proposition, but it’s what we chose as a family- different cultures, varying degrees in seasonal offerings, and many different schools, because education was happening anyway- ours and the kids. The colors we drew on our palette challenged many a canvas. It was okay. We were okay. The world whizzed by, but not in a haze. There was clarity and there was learning and we were hardier than we knew. By the time our kids grew up, so did we. Not to say, we’re near done. What did growing up mean? It meant fighting for admission at a good school, after researching extensively; it meant waiting patiently for our ‘stuff’ to arrive and live within limited means sometimes; it meant ensuring that we had a good vet for our dog, a psychologist and medical help at hand, it meant that we chose our physical quarters with some amount of wisdom, i.e good gentry who wouldn’t mind noisy dogs and kids, it also meant that we had our work set out for us- every time, building a new life with new folk, at a gentle pace, or rushed, depending on our tenure, which was often unknown. 

I learnt that people are the same everywhere- they also love people who are kind and are willing to cook, for one. As for other stuff, don’t leave your garbage out, don’t yell on the terrace, avoid confrontations with your spouse right at the front door, and above all, invite them over on any pretext, and they just love the attention! Neighbours we discovered, make wonderful family as well. There’s a lot of love out there, did you know that? We do. We’ve had very few nasty experiences- one of them being an over-zealous landlord who couldn’t stand our continuous flow of guests, and ensured that we knew it too, alas! We, needless to say, did not obey his command, and were saved by the skin of our teeth. We only stayed a year in that beautiful home, although we thought we could teach our landlord a thing or two about hospitality before departure!

Everyone of us is carrying our home with us, in us, and when we poke our heads through the window of life, we believe, we are more empathetic toward others, because even while we were putting together a new home, another one was calling out a few years ahead. Knowing that we can put up our tent, and shelter anywhere, anytime, can be very energizing. It is also a strengthening thing. We made friends, and we carried the friendship with us. The only drawback, if any, is that we don’t get to see our friends in one place as often as we’d like, but on the other hand, we’ve earned visiting rights to all of these homes and places that touched us. Heart’s got to be in the right place, because that’s where Home is, is it not!

an open sky meets us every time