Having lived away from home since 2012.

I so wanted to come back here since 2017.

I tried so many times to come back and it never fructified.

Now since past 7 months that I have come back, I realised so much here has changed.

I don’t know who lives near this house anymore.

There are no more familiar faces to run into. The locations of my favourite chaat stalls have changed.

The shop from where I bought my favourite dress for my 10th birthday is no more there.

People here no more address me as beta/gudia I have grown up so much that they call me ma’am. I don’t know why I felt strange at that, back in that big metro city I was a ‘ma’am’ for everyone already.. here too?

What was I seeking for here, I don’t know..

The dynamics in my joint family has changed. My relationships with each one of them has changed.

I have never felt this lonely, I was probably not expecting to feel this way here, at this place, which I had only good memories for, have you ever felt that? Like a stranger amongst all acquainted. So oblivious to everything in a place that you thought was your home? Like you belong to nothing and nothing belongs to you?

And now I think, may be just may be a home is not a place. A home is not a place made up of people you love..

May be home is a feeling, that should reside in us. So that we can turn to it each time we feel disoriented.

At 27 I don’t know how to create and curate that space in my heart which I can call home! My home.