This is "My Home".
Where can you find the house full of Books which is left by my children who have studied from LKG to graduation,their books kept well secured in shelf's,copies of various articles,letters from various universities,their files of all sorts,their photos from kids to parenting and their kid in Blogs,Videos and innumerable artifacts of their childhood.
All items stored and if possible labeled.Arranged in all shapes and forms to almost resemble like a junk to a stranger.
Their college Final year project reports in safe custody of their mother,who went after them from kindergarten to college and felt happy that her efforts were well rewarded by their success in full education required for a firm footing in the corporate world.
The Motorbikes that were used by them is stored for ever.
Their clothes from diapers to Wedding dress kept in steel cupboard or trunks.
The computer left here and on which I am writing all my 5 Blogs since over 7 years. The Music system and World space radio parked here.
Their Maruti Alto car which we are using.
The Saree's of my daughter which she may never wear are used by My wife.
Their kitchen and furniture left behind in My Home when they left the country.
They are all looking at us,My Wife and Myself keep talking to each other as to how on earth these things could be replaced.
When they visit us all they have left all that they were using is a Junk according to them.To me they are my sweet memories.
All this and many more left in " My Home ".
My Home is a place where I have the freedom to do what ever I feel like doing,mostly sitting depressed before the PC Monitor and gazing at some web site,Blogging this and that in textiles,reading,visiting my room upstairs to renovate the paintings that I have done in the past and of course eating.
There is nobody except my wife to tell me something which I may do or I refuse to do.Mostly I do what ever she says though.
I keep calling my old friends over phone and chat for few minutes which won't be more than ten minutes.
Strangly most of my friends avoid to talk to our common friends.
When I asked my friend as to why he is not calling our common friend'X' his reply was he is not calling why on earth I should bother.
Some times I feel,that it is such a nice idea to just walk away with my wife and keep "My Home" locked.
Easyly said than done no one can do it in a city like Bangalore.If at all you return you may not find your sweet home.
You are in your Home,you call "My Home",till you go to your Home from where you came from that Home.
This is My Home Sweet Home.
My Brother has kept many things of My Home or "My Fathers Home"in his Home as he stayed in one place after the death of my parents,while I had to travel with bag and baggage all over south India and Maharashtra.I did not opt for anything since I considered that what belonged to me is as good as his since he was my only younger brother,My sisters never bothered over anything,since their husbands could afford anything.
My Home,Your Home,Their Home,That Home,This Home but all have come from One Home from some where.
That is "Our Home".
That is also "My Home".