Thursday, June 17, 2010

Where the heart is

Where, when you step inside, the familiarity overwhelms you.
Where you wake up in the middle of the night, and go to the kitchen in search of food, and you actually find some.
Where people rip the blankets off to wake you up in the morning.
Where you somehow know where everything is, even when it's pitch dark.
Where people cook for you.
Where you're allowed to watch cartoons all day.
Where all the clothes are washed and the food is made, as if by magic.
Where you have to tap the bathroom light switch hard because it doesn't turn on otherwise.
Where you're allowed to look your most horrible, in the foulest of moods, and you know you're with people who are biologically tuned to love you.
Where you know which stair to skip over because it creaks.
Where retro Hindi songs play on Sunday mornings.
Where evenings are spent laughing in the kitchen.
Where you occasionally have to chat with your brother online to get his attention, because he just can't seem to tear himself from the computer.
Where you can sing and play the guitar as loud as you want.
Where no one drinks from this one mug, because its yours.
Where you have pizza nights on Fridays.
Where you fight about which movie to watch while eating that pizza.

That's home.

No comments:

Post a Comment