Four walls make up a house but does a house maketh a home? What do you do when the place you called a home ceases to become yours for reasons whatsoever?
As I stepped out from the place I called a home I was left with a feeling of nostalgia. I had spent a major part of the last 2 years stacking the memories that each passing day bought, some good some bad, but most of them precious moments I would never be able to forget for the rest of my life.
There was a time when I would rush from office just to be with my little darlings. Each passing day was like a party and their antics played not just a therapeutic role but also an enriching one and I had immense pride seeing them grow up before my very eyes. Not to forget the antics were also instrumental in distracting me from the mundane life I held and the pressures I faced ….
But my birdies flew away some time back since someone else on account of having a relation that weighs higher awaited them and it’s just right that they fly away. Things were never the same once they left the nest but nevertheless I had enough memories that ensured I shared my private moment with them each day just like the good old days.
As I lit the lamp, prayed and later stacked up to leave, all these memories came flooding in again, each pillar each room had a distinct flavor of its own and I savored them all for the last time. Times are changing and the tree lined boulevards are giving rise to newer entrants and still newer changes but somehow I regaled in those good old memories since they seemed so very precious at this point of time.
I stepped out bags, baggage and memories, I may not see the same place for an awfully long time but I was glad I carried the things that were most precious and counted the most to me wherever I went…
Life …. Here I come …..