Where is Home?

I have always been able to get comfortable in new surroundings quickly.

When I went for the गृह प्रवेश of one of my father’s friends, I (an 8-year old) ended up staying there for a whole night. I had no qualms about going to different places if I got instant gratification.

As a child, I was pretty sure that my home was where my family lived, where I grew up sneaking around, and where I received love, food, security, and other kind of things. Here is home.

But as I grew older, my sense of home—a place where I belonged—was lost on me. I no longer fit in at my parent’s home. I no longer felt okay to be myself at my parent’s home. I started hiding precious-to-me pieces of myself—which were frowned upon or not understood—away bit by bit.

I started looking for a place to be my authentic self. Where is home?

I tried fitting my home into a person’s heart. That led to a world of hurt when the key to my home was no longer in my reach. Where is home?

I thought if left my parent’s home to pursue my dreams, I would be able to be myself in the real world out there. Boy oh boy, was I wrong!

The real world was quite harsh and I had to develop a shell around myself. I could share a few glimpses of my real self with the real world but only for extremely short periods of time. I didn’t belong in my supposed dream world. Where is home?

When I found my tribe out there, I was surprised at how easily they felt like home. It was no longer necessary for me to hide myself. Here is home.

But as the seasons changed, it was time for us to walk our own paths. Alone. By ourselves.

By this time, I honed my ability to make a temporary home anywhere I went. So it began: a long journey of temporary houses, but no place ever really felt like home again. Where is home?

I lived in many cities, travelled quite a bit before I thought about creating a home for myself with someone I love. I named it ‘दूजा घर.’ Here is home.

All was fine..till a tsunami came and swept me away. It left me in the middle of a hurricane (just to be clear: a metaphorical one). When things got calmer, I found myself stranded on a foreign island with bare minimum essentials to survive. This foreign island used to my home when I was a little Ashmita with pigtails on her head. Where is home?

Coping with the present, I was forced to establish a house on this island. With time, I reacquainted with the island and built my home here for the time being. But I knew that I couldn’t stay here forever; could I?. Where is home?

Life taught me that it’s foolish to create a home in a person because then you might not have free access to your home always. Through my struggles, I learned to find a home for myself within myself. This way I will never be lost, I will always have access to my home no matter where I am.

Ashmita: here is home.