life

What I call home

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we were a gang of five who stomped this ground day and night and loved each day of it. now we enjoy to cuddle up whenever we get time 🙂

Only lucky ones have a place to call home. So was I. For thirteen years this was my home, where I learnt to walk, run, laugh, cry and what not. Today as I look back, what I can see is that I am a reflection of this home and its surrounding. Every nook and corner of this home are so attached to my heart that I am living more in memories than in present. Which is why, so often I fail to adjust to changes which my heart cannot recognize. People close to me would surely vouch for my love for Pallipuram, just because I have bored them to death by narrating endless stories; stories of childhood friend, collecting stamps, stealing toffees, skipping school bus, innumerable romeos, spooky uncles and so on. However, what stands tall and prominent in the memory is the home. Now that the old home is renovated and is no longer seen, what remains is the new one with few parts of its past.

So I am in love with the old and living in the past. Hence would share with you all, what I miss the most each moment, while I am almost 2000 kms away. And thanks to Alwin, who prompted me to take the mobile and walk around while sitting and sulking about leaving home yet again.

curious observer

gate way of india is one of the main attraction for people who visit bombay (i dont want to call it mumbai, i still hang on to bombay, how i love old things), especially people like me (from small town). apart from the street hawkers, policemen and localities, you can never miss the dozens of one-minute photographers with polaroid prints. like her adult counterparts, this little kid too was fascinated with the photo printing process, she sat through the printing of many photographs of her own kin, others and ours (i, along with friends).