Having left the comfort of 4 walls and plenty of familiar faces for some time now, the notion of home is beginning to strike me as an elusive one. As much as home is where the heart is, home has begun evolving into something else altogether with each passing day.
Home is the place I manage to have a good night of sleep without getting woken up by mosquitos or flies. Home is when I stay at a place long enough to be able to do laundry. Home is when I share my first laugh with a bunch of strangers I had just met. Home is the heart of the stranger that offers you a helping hand seeing you struggle with grocery bags. Home is being familiar with a place that you get stopped by for directions. Home is the moment you fall in love with a sight before your eyes, you forget about snapping the beauty and sharing it with the rest of the world. Home is the welcoming arms of a stranger after having travelled for over 10 hours. Home is a hot shower. Home is that familiar couch in the lounge that made Skype calls bearable, even through lousy internet connection. Home is that mischievous smile of a friend, who tries to peek into my screen each time the boy whispers “I love you”.
As much as there is comfort in having a permanent address called home tagged to your name, the comfort being on the road is far more enticing at the moment. That moment overrides the moments of being homesick, the struggle of being responsible for having food on your plate thrice a day and all the other pains living alone in a new city brings. The road is my home and these strangers are my family for now, and possibly, for some time.
See you on the other side.