The word "home" is defined as a place where one lives. So, going by the definition, it would mean that, when one shifts from one place to another, one's home moves along with the person. His residence becomes his new home. Well, I choose to disagree.
A
few weeks back, a couple to be precise, I moved out of my home, or my permanent
residence as the government would have it, and moved into a hostel in a
different city from my hometown, for my higher education. This is the first
time I have had to move out of my home, my hometown permanently, and now I know the true meaning of the word "home". Home is where the heart is. Home
is where the love is. It is where you are loved, even when you make the
silliest of mistakes. It is where the pampering of your parents and elders is.
Home is where forgiveness is free. I understand it now. They say, one does not understand, or rather they under estimate the true value of something when
they have it, it's only when you lose it, you realize its true value.
It's as true as it gets.
I used to live in a home where I was the king. Everything was a whistle blow away. Now I live in a hostel, sharing a room with two other boys. Almost all the time I am mute. There are times, like this very moment, when I realize that it's been hours that I had last uttered a word or spoken to someone, and by someone, I also include myself. Yes, I talk to myself.
It's been a rough beginning to my journey alone, without the comforts of my home, and i can say this without any doubt in my mind, I MISS MY HOME. I might have moved out and away from the place i call my home but somehow, a part of me has stayed back There is a strong urge inside of me to make whatever space i have in my hostel room, look like my room, so that i feel that mush closer to my castle.
I
have read in so many books, and seen in many a movies, that when you move away
from a place which you love with all your heart and soul, a place you know by
heart, to its tinniest detail, a place where you can move around with your eyes
closed, a place whose every texture, every smell, marking etc is known to you, you don't really move out, because your soul stays back. Like a ghost, half of
your heart stays back and keeps saying things that the other half doesn't want
to listen. Maybe it does, but it in no way can.
It's
a big hard world and it beats you black and blue till you are numb. We are
supposed to be strong, and carry on with whatever life puts in front of us. I
had thought it's not that tough, everyone around me is doing it, how tough can
it possibly be? But now I realize it's a hard struggle. It's almost as if
you declare war inside you own mind. One half says, “It’s not worth the
pain, go back home and do whatever you want from there”, and the other half
says, “Don’t be a loser; you know it has to be done.”
This world can make you feel pretty lonely if it wants to. It has some amazing tools. There are people, like me, who would rather spend time alone. They like their space. In the comforts of their zone, it's always I, me, and myself time. When people ask why, they would say things like, "I like silence". I said it a million times. I did not realize how much noise silence actually makes. It is, in its truest sense, deafening. Silence, screams at you, and makes you feel like your head is going to explode and there is nothing you can do; nothing at all.
We
have our own tools to counter these feelings of loneliness. According to me,
the strongest weapons we have are our friends. But, I am not talking about just
any tom dick or harry we say hi to or stop in the corridors of our
institutions, to talk to. No; I am talking about the friends who know the A to
Zs of the person you are, the people who you can count on. People you can call
up at one am in the morning and enquire about what the time is because you think
your cell phone is showing the wrong time. Friends like these are hard to find,
but you can always bet a million bucks on these people, that no matter how
tough it gets, they will 'defend the silver lining'. Yes, it has been weird a
start, but God has been good to me, by keeping a really close friend, really
close to me. Like most movies, my days have a comic relief too. The only thing
that has kept me going for the last two weeks has been the time I have spent
with this very special person. My “best buddy” you would say. As every day
comes to an end I return to my prison like hostel room; the only thing that
keeps me going through the night is the thought that I’ll get to spend time
with the person I hold so close to my heart, the next day.
As
we age, life starts becoming more and more taxing on every aspect of our lives,
be it mentally, physically or socially. We are supposed to adapt to the
changes, never look back and move on, without asking any question. But, at times even though in our mind we know we have to, our hearts keep yearning for things
to remain the way they are. Our hearts never want to let go, it never wants
change.