A place called Home.

December '13. Home visit.

Me to Mommy: If this is not heaven, then what is it?

*wraps her arms around me in a tight hug*

Mommy to Me: This is it.

Home is not a place. It's a feeling. It’s a Sunday. A day off at home. I open my eyes, lying on my bed for a long time, letting my mind wander from one memory to another. You need to remember how there have been days you felt all warm inside, like you’ve just drunk a hot cup of tea. Like a small fire has ignited of you. Hold onto the warmth and never let it go. Mentioning of the warmth, I, immediately, am transported to the place where chaos is soothing, every tiny moment is a celebration and the soul is at peace. Rhythm in steps. Harmony in heart. Symphony on streets. Only a few places have that kind of pin drop silence. And the only music to be seen or smelt is quietness. Home. The year 2014 began with a tattered sweater, getting high on the scent of home and being with family. Someone has rightly said, visiting your hometown is like visiting yourself. Oh what a luxury it was for people to hold their loved ones whenever they wanted.

Without alphabets, world would have been a better and cuter place to live in. With the arrival of the youngest angel in the family, it was fun to see even the oldest member doing crazy things just for that one smile of hers. Warm hugs, nonsensical chatter, short walks and long talks with Mom, hysterical laughter sessions - that's what sums up my home visit this December. The best month of the year in my city when everything was so cold apart from the city and the people. When even your hyperactive dog would snuggle under covers and not move an inch even if you kick his ass. I have learned that we cannot live even in heaven if it is not our hometown. Memories, mainly childhood and growing connects us to the soil, not its beauty. One can never have enough of the time spent with family. It's like the addictive weed, every whiff of it makes you want to have more. But as they say, if you want to travel in the ocean, you will have to leave the sight of the shore.
 
Making a note of the date today, I complete an entire year since I first stepped out of the house to embark a journey that least did I know could churn me from inside. Joining Infosys, Mysore as students on 18th March, 2013 and turning into colleagues of some of the greatest minds of IT industry. What happened suddenly? From an Electronics Engineer to an IT Professional, that too a Java developer. What happened suddenly? A person can spend days, weeks, months and years without feeling anything new. Then when a new door opens, a positive avalanche pours in one moment, you have nothing, the next, you have more than you can cope with.

But as Sultana beautifully puts across in Patakha Guddi, when He is there, we needn't worry. As the songs found place in the mouths and hearts of many, I had my own reasons to beam with pride. It was a pleasurable moment telling people around me how I have met and interviewed these two singers. Film industry produced two back to back hits, Highway and then Queen. Both beautiful in their own ways yet leaving an entirely different impact on the soul.

Queen. What better than a couple of your friends texting you about how they wished they had seen the movie with you. Ranjha from the same movie. Put it on if you are a brave heart and can bear the void and screeching wave of pain it brings with itself. I ain't no movie critic but the simplicity of the lyrics along with the subtle music would instantly attract you to it like RabriFaluda would lure a girl on diet. She knows it's not good for her body, yet haves it and merrily divulges in the pool of pleasure it gives. Similarly, you know it's going to make you cry like a baby yet you are tempted to listen to it.

It was after quite a while that any movie could make you experience those velvety crests and troughs. It re-emphasized how when you are at the lowest, you gather the strength to bounce back with a higher amplitude. And that is when you feel how the entire universe would be in sync to help and guide you through. Then there was this let-go wall where just pinning up a piece of paper could make you drop a part of yourself and hence leave you feeling lighter. Could they have made it simpler? But can letting go be this easy? 

Highway on one side brought back a sweet realization of how your own self comes out differently with varied people. How a meager truck driver, her kidnapper, could reach a under-zillion-covers part of soul so smoothly. Why does it happen that sometimes, words find their way into sentences themselves with some people even when they aren't supposed to? But rather isn't it surprising how he could exude this story from her like a thread coming out of the eye of a needle. Smoothly yet piercing right through the center without letting the needle feel it in spite of knowing it. Many such people would come in your life, altering it in their own unique way, leaving you a more beautiful soul and closer to self than before. As Murakami writes, 'What happens when people open their souls? They become better.'

I think I fall in love a little bit with anyone who shows me their soul. This world is so guarded and fearful. Ripping apart yourself and portraying your soul to someone is an art too. In the world where there are more conversations and less interactions, rawness is much more appreciated. You owe people around you your time as it is more precious than money today. Pause for a while and listen, observe them while they speak, try and see through their souls, show them a place called home.