Saturday, June 20, 2020


In a parallel universe, today I would be at "home" with my parents in Delhi...Thanks to the global pandemic I am here thousands of miles away reminiscing about where home is. Home is where the heart is, they say. But what happens when your heart is split - it's pieces claimed by more than one person, more than one end up having "homes".

Till we had Manya I think my idea of home was very singular. Vish and I moved around so much together that home for me was where my parents are. Young and footloose, we were so caught up in the idea of exploring the world, that we bounced from destination to destination rather than finding our forever nesting grounds.
(Well forever is a mirage, I have learnt, and I think I may have given up the pursuit of such fleeting illusions - perks of growing old)

Like most children do for their parents, I guess, M brought with her ties and knots that made us a family. She had us hook, line, and sinker. We made a home together. Suddenly home wasn't only the home that I grew up in but also the home my child was flourishing in with meaningful memories etched on walls forever. The realization of the responsibility of being the forever home for your kid like your parents are for you is very humbling and extremely daunting.

The joy and richness of more than one warm, comforting haven is often rivaled by an equally measurable ache that the distance from loved ones brings.

Living far away from my parents and brother; knowing that my daughter will in the years to come have to make decisions of her own...I allow myself to wallow in self pity - my heart is never going to be one whole again. 


  1. Well said. I guess home is where the pieces of your heart lie! I'm already gearing up for advaith leaving 'home' in a few years and one more piece of me living in yet another place :(


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