Home’s where the Heart is?

Tik-tok, tik-tok… runs the clock, as I count my days. Oh! I’m not dying, yet (abstract phrases can sound so faulty). Let me try again and maybe complete my sentence this time around – Strikingly restless but with immense devotion, I have been counting the days until I GET BACK HOME. Now, things are more clear, I presume? No? Okay. I’m going to try and improve on my writing skills, as I try to explain what I really mean by “counting days”. Let’s hope we don’t lose track and I don’t perish in the attempt. 

I study in dazzle-city, which is about a thousand kilometers away from where my parents live (let me tell you “thousand” is no exaggeration here). And like every other Indian child, my parent’s house will always be my home, unless you’re a girl and you need to end up with a husband, of course. For all the puzzled nobility, who don’t understand the concept of “pathi ka ghar hi tumhara ghar hai”(your husband’s house is your house), I recommend that you introduce yourself to some Indian soaps right away. Anyway, let’s not get carried away and let me come back to why I’m counting my days.. hehe.

Seven months. Seven months, since I’ve been home. “But, it’s just seven months,” some of you “self-reliant” humans out there must be thinking, while grinning smugly. But, here’s the thing. These seven months have been life changing for me in multiple ways. College has had assignments that have left me a LOT more skilled than I ever was, while people around left me with newer interests and increased opinions. “This happens to everyone, so what’s the big deal, right?” This is exactly what I would have thought of a couple of months ago. 

But with more Padayappa, Gilli and passing time, I slowly began to reminisce. And everyone knows what happens when you get nostalgic about the “good ol’ days”- well, you start MISSING those “good ol’ days”. This is in addition to missing the comfort of your parents and the devilry of siblings. And then this drought starts getting to you slowly, like the poison from a snake bite. It gets to your heart and that’s when you know that you just must get back home. It’s the only cure. 

So, I’m sure by now all my human readers must have guessed, what “counting my days” means. And for the rest of you aliens, you just landed yourself an open ended movie. 

P.S: This conversation ends abruptly because it will be continued when I get home… I think.



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