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Every festive season I have seen friends and family pack their bags and head to their respective homes. I can surely see the excitement of meeting their family after 4-5 months in their eyes. Back home, even in my home I can see the same sparkle in my husbands and mothers eyes of meeting their parents after a gap of atleast 3-4 months. Am I talking about myself? No. I no longer feel as enthusiastic about going anywhere or meeting anyone. The concept of home and family is gone for me and I have lost it forever. Yes I am never going to have what I call home, my childhood home ever.
I was born in Kuwait and stayed with my parents there in a rented apartment. My father's sudden death led my mom to vacate the flat as well as the country. After all, that country was never ours. Whatever attachment we had with it, it was not our country. My uncle stayed in that flat for few months just to hold on to my fathers memories but it became impractical for him to stay there further due to huge distance from his working place. The day he vacated the flat where we lived for decades, it was just gone. And I had lost it forever. No home, all childhood memories vanished.
It is not that I do not have a place to live, in fact by the grace of Allah, I have many homes. But I dont have my heart and soul in them.
I stay in Delhi with my husband, mother and two kids. As per my convenience I keep changing my location. If the office is in Gurgaon, Chattarpur seems better. When I worked in Okhla, South Delhi was preffered. The rented apartments of Kapoors and Tomars are not my homes, they are just temporary conveniences like nests, maybe. Feeling like a bird, already.
I am sure everybody loves to be back home to their parents in holidays or festivals. Even I get to visit my grand parents house and live there, but something is lacking. There is no short of love from their side, there is something lacking in my perspective. Maybe its the absence of my father. Yes offcourse. After 6 years of marriage, I still call my husbands home in Lucknow, " Aapka Ghar". It has still not entered my mind that it is my home too. Tough my extremely loving in laws make me feel that way, that its my home and I am as dear to them as their own daughter. What else can they do if I only think that way. For me my family was my father and his home. So I have lost it all. Forever.
Its not that I have problems with anyone or any place. Its just a point that those are not my homes. They are just places for me where my loved ones live. I would go anywhere they lived to meet them. But the location where they reside is meaningless to me. Whereever my grand parents or in laws are is always my family. I am really blessed to have them. The feeling that I no longer have a place to call my abode is not there. We already have few properties scattered around and may probably live there someday. Those would be homes for my children with their set of memories. But these places dont have the depth to hold me onto them. I do not have a childhood connection with them. Without soil, the roots of attachment and memories are worthless. My soil, my roots vanished the day my father passed away. Now, thoroughout my life, I would just be a creeper, hanging here and there in my thoughts. Its not that I am unhappy in life about anything. I am very happy and blessed in my life in everything. Its 7 am in morning and I wrote this piece of my heart out. My pillow is all wet from tears. They keep flowing for no reason sometimes. And yes, this article was requested by "xxx properties. They wanted me to analyse the topic, " Do you agree that, " Home is where Dad is!". Yes sure. What else.