Where is my home

It has been really long since wrote something last. Mostly I write when I am sad. I have two options then- either to lighten my burden by crying or to express it in the forms of words- and write.

Lately, I have been crying too much these days. So much, that I have got sores around my eyes. And, shamefully, I cry like women. Non stop. For unimportant thing. And then sometimes even adding up new topics to cry. And later wondering where I started and what I ended up cribbing about.

I had read somewhere that you should keep targets for yourself and then should reward upon achieving, as an art of living. When I feel sad, I try to pamper myself by doing away with the requirement of achieving the target and reaching directly hitting upon rewarding.

I ask myself, “What can I do for you. What do you want”.

Off late, I had been convincing myself that I’ll be happy with rewards like- mango cake, gobi paratha, books, dresses, a travel plan or even sex.

But quite for some time, my convincing powers have failed me.

I have been looking to escape answers when last time I demanded, something that made me answerless. I said, I wanted to go back to  my home.

Did I ever have a home.  Did I feel at home when I was in Chandigarh. Didnt destiny keep knocking me to take me in its UFO to Mumbai in a flash of a second, with no plans of mine ever in my thought.  Was I at rest when I was there.

My love for Mumbai was profound. The liberty, that growth, that progression, those monsoons and those people- that comprised Mumbai. Did I feel at home when I used to walk back home alone at dusk, after work. Was the city mine when I couldn’t find what lost in my five years of pursuit.

And now, when I was in Hong Kong, staying so close to the sea, that if I close my eyes, and  try to imagine the sounds of the waves, I may hear them thumping the shore. Did I accept it as my home town.

This reminded me of Richard Bach-

“The simplest questions are the most profound.
Where were you born?
Where is your home?
Where are you going?
What are you doing?
Think about these once in a while, and watch your answers change.”

I think- Man, probably, is a homeless man, in search of a home; trying to build it when he has found, and trying to search for it when he has built.