This post was re-published in Writer's E-zine
Ma in my home, Diwali 2013 (Photo by Suhas Mehra)
It has been exactly a month.
Exactly a month ago she was sitting at the same place where she sits today - this spot at the Bangalore airport, waiting for her next flight. Then too, like today, she was going home - a different home, home of her childhood, home where love and blood tied her to everyone around, home where she felt loved and protected, home where she learned to dream dreams of growing up, of becoming independent and living her own life in her own home - home of her adult-hood, home where she is heading today, exactly a month later, a home where also love ties her to everyone and everything around.
But so much has happened during this one month.
Truths of Life have revealed and expressed themselves in ways so that once again she finds herself asking what is home, especially that home of childhood. Who or what makes that home? Walls? Furniture? People? The bonds between the people? A particular Presence that is the anchor of a home? Is that Presence only a physical one? When that physical presence is gone, does the home remain the same home? In what ways does the absence of a physical presence change the home? Or does it change anything at all?
As her flight is delayed further by an hour, she reflects on what will that home of childhood be like when she visits there next. May be much will change, including the physical address of the home itself. But perhaps that change too will only be on the outside, would matter only when looked at from an outside view. May be the true home of the childhood will always remain, hidden within, held safely on the inside, letting its presence felt through the ties of love and blood, making its impact felt through all those memories - some easier to dig into than others, some more pleasant than others, but all that have shaped her into who or what she is today, all that will continue to shape her into what she will be tomorrow.
As her heart and mind continue to wander with these thoughts and emotions, a voice deep within reminds her of something she had come across a few days ago - "We need so much less than we think, and think so much more than we need." (William Chapman).
And so she tries to quieten her mind and moves away from that spot for a leisurely stroll around the terminal so that she may simply be...be with that "home" inside, be with that "love" inside.
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