Home is Where the Heart is

Every night I pray to God before going to sleep. To bless my home with good health. This is my childhood tradition. When I was a toddler it was a routine that I followed because I was taught this. After I started to gain consciousness of my actions (develop understanding, in my words). I chose to carry this ritual to my adulthood.
It is my way of tranquilizing. This is the last exercise of the day and the most important as well. As I grew up, I started watching horror movies and TV shows. Especially, on the channel Star One called “Sshhhhh….Phir Koi Hai “. It was eerie, terrifying and spine chilling (might have exaggerated) to watch them as a child and still is whenever I watch any thrillers and horror movies which give me dreadful nightmares. Still, whenever I reminisce them, they have the potential of giving me goose bumps. My mind talks to me in sleep through crazy metaphors and the next day when I wake up I need to decipher these da Vinci codes. At the same time, sometimes there are good ideas also. I honestly curse my mind for playing such tricks on me. Make sure you tell me which horror shows you have watched as a kid. Also don’t tell me you weren’t scared. I refuse to believe that, or you are probably a psychopath. The point is that praying helps me have a good sleep.
Enough about dreams, that I discuss every now and then in one blog or the other like Driving or Nightmare. Make sure you read them also. Coming back to the point.
To me, house was a physical place. And that was my limited vision as a toddler. As I grew, the definition of a home keeps changing for me. It was limited to my parents then to my joint family and even now it is changing/expanding.
When TS said, home is where the heart is but that’s not where mine lives I understood it, but not really in context to how I felt about it.
I was asked this question in Toastmasters in a competition and I knew what it meant but couldn’t answer it. In fact, I choked (as in went blank in this ocean of thoughts that can come literally anytime but when it was the right time she betrayed me), which happens a lot with me in impromptus. I am much better when it comes to preparing speeches or presentations. Had to mention.

Now that I think of this phrase, I think of the time I have went to tours in school and in college. I always longed to go to home after a few days because as much as I love travelling to new places, it makes me realise the importance of the people I cherish the most and the warmth that they make me feel very much like being wrapped up in a blanket in cold and icy winter nights. I could go to a vacation with my parents and I would very much be at home and I could go to places with my best friends and very much feel like home. My metaphorical home has expanded from just a physical place to people that occupy space in my heart. I also believe it has more space but it has also the capability to let go.

18 thoughts on “Home is Where the Heart is

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