02 Jul Coming back to you HomeReading Time: 4 minutes
I was just not willing to go back home after four weeks long summer holiday and wished, we continued.
Peak summer we landed at Delhi Airport, with a mixed bag of emotions, exhausted yet refreshed, I was fast to load nine bags on the trolleys, and I found this contradicting.
Soon we were in a Cab, with the increasing proximity to my home; the scent of the city started to sink in, and the familiar surroundings made me feel warm, coming back-to-my-home now made me tranquil. I rolled down the window, the warm air of near mid-night brushed me like a breeze! I was feeling fresh, in-fact fully refreshed, as if another Holiday had just begun.
Minutes passed in moments, and we were inside our home, it was like…wow we are back home. This feeling shot up like mercury and soon ‘not wanting to come back’ entirely evaporated. What had happened? Why did it happen? From wanting to holiday more to great, I am back at my dome!
Our house had remained closed for four weeks now, in peak summer months dust finds its way to get in and settle. As soon as we opened the door it felt like we have opened the door of a Sauna room, the dry sandy odour was lingering as if a dust storm had just settled in. It was half-past midnight, scorching heat of the day had made extra night its prey. Swiftly we opened the windows, switched on fans, exhausts and even chimney; soon we started the air conditioning. I mist sprinkled our plants (we had left adjusting the sprinklers to supply water for four harsh weeks) and took a quick shower before dozing off!
Early morning, I woke up with a why, it’s my home, and I love it, as much as I like to travel. I understood – the law of diminishing returns would have spoiled extended holiday. With this thought, I was out of the bed, I poured a warm glass of water and came out on my balcony, birds of Pipal, Neem, Mango, Jamun, Rosewood, Moringa and other trees were chirping as if they were welcoming me back home.
Soon It felt heavy, I knew I was nostalgic; I was sinking, I was teary-weary, it was not a new feeling, it was very familiar, I had felt it this way many a time especially whenever I would visit my parents’ home (I always called it my real home). From my post-graduation days in Agra to my early entrepreneurship days in Delhi; from a bachelor to a newly married couple to proud parent. Like any other son, my visits to my parents’ place, always brought this strange joy blended nostalgia.
“Shukar Dateya” (north Indian Punjabi dialect) is a powerful “Gratitude Statement” meaning “Thank you God – the Giver” reminded me of how my Mom would thank God, for the small sweet home we had. The real home was definitely to be thankful for. I was about to understand, about to decode, alas! I was not. I was stuck somewhere, again. I wanted to come back to home from the nostalgia of real home.
But this time, I was on edge, on the shore, at the boundary, hanging from the cliff and I was ready to fall, to surrender, yearning self-empathy, I wish it was easy for me, I wish I could define my home – my childhood home, my teenage home, my adolescence home, my current home, my real home. The home that had shaped me made me, batted me patted me. Sliding through phases, here I was now standing again in a house, which we built with the blessings of my parents. For the first time, I knew this is also a home, how I felt last night. I felt the difference, at my real home I was a free-runner.
Free Runner! Yes, that is the Code.
Here surrounded by the trees, I was not free. I was supposed to be Born Free!
I walked to the Kitchen, to make a cup of tea. The thoughts extended to visualisation, design, nature, culture, art, creativity, family bonding and love, possessions, waking up, sleeping and what not. It was like lightning, and I took a deep dive into me. I was deep in thoughts, decided to drop my office for the day and cancel my meetings, I wanted to be with me. Who we are and how we live matters to our core, unfortunately, we choose to ignore.
That day I sat, looked around there was nothing I could notice, so many things had stopped cheering me, I cleared the blind spots physically and tried to wake myself up spiritually. Soon I found a light; maybe it’s where I am headed; I knew I will find my balance now. Whether I live for a day or live my calling, I must shape every day, so I build my day, every day. Days of consistent encounters, knowing the secret of homes, I explored what I call Meditative Homes.
Our Homes are all about energy, like our body energy, the air, water, light, earth, and space all converge here to create this harmony for better living, only if we know how to play.
The prayer bell, doorbell, phone bell, wind chime, chirping birds, humming bees, running waters, morning hawkers, helpers, visitors, guests, aromas, daily chore disturbances; all converge & create this elevating energy which flows seamlessly.
Every day I absorb & embrace these energies to live in my meditative space, I wish to be in this state here and everywhere.