Somewhere, Somebody, Sometimes, Silently closing his bedroom door. Quietly turning the backdoor key, stepping outside, he is free.
His Parent whispered, “We gave him most of our lives, sacrificed most of our lives. We gave him everything money could buy. he’s leaving home after living for so many years.”
I guess there’s two kinds in the world Nishant, people who move, people who stay. Ain’t that true? No that ain’t true. Well what’s true? Oh there’s two kinds of people, them goin’ somewhere and them goin’ nowhere. And that’s what’s true. I don’t agree Nishant. That’s cause’ you don’t know what the hell I’m talking about. I’m an ex-citizen of nowhere and sometimes get mighty homesick, said the person whom I met was in abroad. I felt nostalgia.
One of my day in the hostel last week, a classmate, that I had to share a small room with, came into the room with a cold. Guess what? Two days later my gifted Cold kicked in such a way that, I have been sick and lying in the bed all day inside room of hostel and went to class only at two day a week and getting homesick most of day in week. Next time, if I turn up and someone in the room has a cold or any other infectious illness, I am going straight home again!
“Alone but not alone, the lights are on, but is there anyone home? My screams are loud but not loud enough to be heard. Who can I trust? Me. Who loves me? Me. Scared of disappointment, scared to be hurt, so I’ll take my feelings and bury them in the dirt. I don’t need anyone, all I need is me. I’ll hug myself tight and won’t let me go, I’ll love myself better than anyone else ever could.”
Isn’t love a funny thing when you can’t express it inside home? It makes you worry and care more that you ever thought you could. It makes you jealous over things that really shouldn’t matter. It shows you the capacity of love you can truly have for someone. They say when you know you know, right? Well that’s true, you really do know. When they feel like home, your safe space, the one person you want to tell everything to, you know. That Love for home is crazy.
I want fence in here and there, And plant a lots of trees which will bear shades and make environment cool during hots days and with a modern pattern on the wall of house. I want geometric designs and cool rooftops plus enough space to grow vegetable which can feed family enough. I want the only flowers to be real flowers, over there on that windowsill where they’ll catch the light each morning when the sun comes up. And I want to smell coffee when I wake up, and start day from home. Because that’ll mean you’re here, or that you’ve just gone out. And when you come back in, I can say ‘Welcome home’.
In my childhood home, my bedroom was on the backside of the house with the forest outside my window. We lived near the water and a new bridge was being built. One morning, a morning which is burned into my memories, I woke up to a beautiful relaxing fog, the rising sun beams cutting through the trees, my window cracked open, the sound of the bird chirping in the distance below. I stayed in bed and silently soaked in the moment, comfortably in my blankets, fully taking in the grand beauty of it all. It was like carpe momentum and diem vibes.
But Where is home? I ask myself this question a lot nowadays. No one feels like home, nothing feels like home. Wherever I turn, I feel lost, trying to make my way back home, wherever that is. Wait for me, while I come back to you. I have been searching for you my whole life. I want that feeling again, that feeling of home.
Coming home is happiness, whether the dogs lick your face or not; whether you have a family or just a fur-ever friend puppy waiting for you. Leaving home is terribly lonely, so that you think of the oppressive barometric pressure back where you have just come from with fondness, because everything’s worse once you’re away home.
How are you today? Did you check up on yourself mentally? Is everything okay at home? Questions I am asked by my friends, roomates and relatives who reside far away from my home. It is all overwhelming and hard to keep on-top of. Now I’m questioning if I am okay. Am I really ‘Okay’?
When you do not have anyone to turn too. When you just do not understand, “why?” and it hurts, but don’t want to change your transition of being a better person. When all you have is this to vent out toward sweet home!
The childhood memories that I cherished with my younger brother was monotonous. Every morning, I wake up and eat breakfast. Wait outside the house for my brother to get ready to leave the house. Always late and miss 1st trip bus. We catch the 15 minute bus and wait 2nd trip. Get to school, and finish the day. I wait for my brother to finish his class and we catch the bus home. When I get home I take off my uniform and turn on T.V. 10 PM comes and I go to bed. Everyday it’s the same. Everything stays, right where you left it. And I’m here waiting for something that will make me want to wake up.
One Day, During vacation.. Mother said something like this. Sweetheart, you look a little tired. When did you last eat?You look pale. Come in and make yourself right at home. Stay as long as you need. Tell me, is something wrong? If something’s wrong, you can count on me. You know I’d take my heart clean apart if it helped yours beat. It’s okay if you can’t find the words. Let me take your bag and this weight off of your shoulders. It was moment that I realized it’s obvious that without mother home was nothing, Wait No, it’s just house without Father too. Grace.
Experiencing those brought huge changes into my life. My facial expression, changed that anyone who sees me, judged me with the expression of I’m scary, I’m ugly, I’m serious, I’m angry, my face shows an expression that everyone around would be disgusted and leave me… I just don’t know how to describe that. Because of the judgement I get when going around with people, I decided to just stay alone at home when I don’t need to go out. I avoided my friends because home was place where I felt secured and loved.
Sometimes due to foolishness and quarrel with family members, I say something stupid like I hate this and I hate that. I don’t eat and I don’t sleep. One more call from home that I ignore, they don’t want to hear from me. Not another lame excuse, so done with apologies. This door has opened but there’s still no escape. Four walls form a box its hell, every homes is a prison cell. Lets free all the ash that trapped we just need to start with spark of gratitude and forgiving own mistakes to appreciate that we have home while some people are being homeless.
At the times of mine birthday, I daydream about my childhood home. I walk through the rooms in my head and remember birthday parties, friends, relatives and family get togethers long past. I recall playing with my siblings and pets on the living room floor, eating homemade meals in the kitchen, and exciting nights in my bedroom. Those were the golden day of my childhood. A part of me was left behind in that house, like a child’s ghost roaming the halls since that day.
This wonderful sense of optimism. It is something I can always keep close to me — to draw from in my darkest hour like a ray of unspent sunshine. No matter what happen next. I will always be glad to know there is something like you(home) is next to me in this big world outside.
So, To be able to go to a place where I can escape from everything and everyone, and then come back when I miss the few things. I actually cherish here, would be heavenly. A place where I can be my true self without having to worry about who’s going to make fun of me or judge me for it. A place where feelings matter. A place where I’m appreciated for the things I do. A place where I can talk about the things I’m passionate about and have people actually listens. It’s a home.’ A living heaven with living god.’
Every time when I have to leave home, I feel like somebody who Looked At The bird that flew and soared high in the sky and thought about it as…
Was it searching for home? Or was it searching for freedom?
Was freedom the home to it? Or home was freedom?
Did it really find what it was searching for ? Did it really know what it was searching for?
