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Maybe you had to leave in order to really miss a place; maybe you had to travel to figure out how beloved your starting point was.” –  Jody Picoult

When you’ve been away from home for over 8 years, the initial phase of moving to a new city is fairly easy but the bouts of loneliness you feel is a little overwhelming sometimes. It’s strange that I don’t really relate to my house so much when I think of home, because I never really had a room of my own which was just mine. In an apartment, where every individual wants their own room, the youngest normally gets left behind and that was the case with me. When my elder brother left for college, his room became mine for a while and when I left for college and he came back, my collage of posters and pictures were all torn and discarded just leaving a funny print on the door where the pictures had left a mark.


Granny’s House 🙂 Home Away from home…

What I miss most about home is my Ammachi (granny) who stays five minutes away and whose old withering legs I love to sleep on as I lay by her side and watch all those Malayalam serials and movies with rapt attention. Her stories which date back to her time when she was the eldest of seven siblings and was a tom-boy herself playing more with her brothers than her sisters always leave me in awe. I’ve heard these stories a dozen times but I never tell her that as she repeats her story of how she was wooed by so many men while she was staying in the hostel and how she first met my grandfather. I miss her tattered old sweater with so many holes in them but her love for it is so intense because it belonged to my late grandpa. I miss you Ammachi and talking to you on the phone today made me realize how much I have taken you for granted over the past 8 years, but your love for me is as always, unconditional as when I was younger and wouldn’t leave your side even for a minute.


My Ammachi is such a SPORT!! 🙂 Love you to bits!! 

Kk as I fondly call him who stays a floor above mine and whose house I have raided once too many times when in need of better food, better company and definitely a shoulder to cry on. He has been there advising me, scolding me, admonishing me like a brother more than a friend over the past 13 years now. Our trips to the beach when we’re both feeling absolutely frustrated with the world and our silent time there as we watch the waves beat against the shore are my best memories of us. I have forgotten his birthday I don’t know how many years in a row and he for one has never failed to call me on mine, from whichever part of the world he’s in. I think I’ve called him religiously when I’m upset over my 5 years in college and then 2 years when I was working in Ahmedabad and he has NEVER failed to cheer me up. He is something every girl wishes to have and he is my biggest strength. We’ve seen each other in our worst and that’s what keeps our bond stronger I guess… the secrets which hold us together. 😉 Love you Kk!!


The Beach Road… 🙂 Along the Marina – one of the longest urban beaches in the world… 

My mom and I rarely talk heart to heart about anything when we’re in the same city. We don’t hug, kiss each other or say ‘I love you’ but there is this silent understanding between the both of us. When I leave, she cries which in turn makes me cry and then we both look away and cry some more and each time she drops me off at the airport or train station, it’s like the most heart wrenching moment and we both smile through the tears and bid each other farewell. Once I’m away, talking to my mom is my release… it’s strange that I can spend an hour talking to her about things that even my then better half would know and it pains me to think that I’ve fought with her over the most trivial things like her loving my brother more. (it’s still not settled, that one!)

I just needed to get it all out of my system and cry a little and I did and I spoke to the three people who made my life complete in Chennai and it felt so good. Well, actually I haven’t spoken to my mom since Mother’s Day when she called to tell me that she loved the gift I sent her (it was a classy Esprit watch) and that was good enough, I guess.They say ‘Home is where the heart is…’… I think ‘The heart is where our home is…‘ wouldn’t you agree?!