The Place Where I Belong

As I sit in my car and it speeds through Marine Drive, I hear Chris Daughtry's husky voice sing, "Well I'm going home, to the place where I belong", for the first time I feel what the lyrics mean to convey. It's been a long day, not a pleasant one and all I can wish for is a hot, home cooked meal and a refreshing shower. 

I ring the doorbell and am welcomed by my mother. She serves me lunch and I savour every bite, like a person who had suffered from diarrhoea enjoys every bite of his first proper meal after his recovery. I seem to be aware of everything around.The curtains, the carpet, the bookshelf, everything that has always been there, yet everything that was left unnoticed by me.

I feel a strange sort of warmth in everything at home that day. I realize I had taken for granted not just the luxuries that I had been blessed with, but the biggest blessing that one can receive, the warmth of a home.

I take a shower and  get ready for a nap. An hour later I am woken up with a glass of my favourite milkshake. Ma always seems to know what exactly I need.

 Later that night when we all sit for dinner, we chat about our day and I instantly feel lighter. I am in the the company of the three people who love me for who I am and genuinely care for me. They are the people who are going to stay by me through thick and thin. They are the people who are going to stand up for me with all their might and protect me against all odds.

April 16 2013, the day of my seventeenth birthday, the first time that I actually celebrate my birthday at home. There is a cake, my favourite dishes, birthday music, and a card that my sister made in spite of being horribly ill. All the wishes and presents that I received later was outweighed by what I felt that day. For the first time in seventeen years, I actually felt what it was like to be at home.

Antara