Popcorn Zone

Home is Where Your Heart is

Home is where the heart is! Surely you must have heard this famous proverb. And that makes me wonder, where exactly is my heart? Is it in the home where I grew up and lived 25 years of my life, the place where I played and spent those blissful childhood days? Or is it in the home I live in now?

Years back….

My childhood days in the eighties and nineties were spent in a palatial bungalow in Bangalore. Life was far simpler then and Bangalore was an entirely different city too. Sans traffic, noise and pollution, the city would be full of blossoming trees. I grew up as part of a big joint family in this large home of ours. I consider myself lucky to have been part of such a huge family that lived together. The home had a huge front lawn and a backyard where there would be a washing stone (I wonder if homes still have those stones, with the advent of washing machines). Growing up was fun amidst grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins galore. We were a total of 15 members in the home and we all shared a common kitchen!!!!!

But as the years passed, the family slowly broke away. My matriarchic grandmother, the old owl of the family passed away. It was like as though the roots of a majestic tree had all of a sudden been cut off. The next gen sought better opportunities and moved to different parts of the globe. The other elders in the family moved on to live with their own children. My father however continued to remain in our home until his last breath. In fact the only thing he wished for, when his cancer was diagnosed as terminal was to be in our home till the end. Dad is no more today. Our good old home in Bangalore stands vacant. What once was a witness to beautiful memories, relationships, joys and sorrows, it is now nothing but a dilapidated old house.

Where am I now?

It has been over ten years since I have left my childhood home in Bangalore. Married to an Officer in the Armed Forces, transfers and movements have become a constant affair. I have moved close to nine houses in my 12 years of marriage. And as much as I put in the effort to make every living quarter I live in seem like home, somewhere deep down that element of emotional attachment isn’t quite there. It’s just a roof under which I live and spend moments with husband and kids.

My heart still lies in Bangalore, though it is now nothing but a mere house!!!!

Image: Calvin and Hobbes-Bill Watterson
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  • rameshwar sambyalr

    bring back those days smile happiness togetherness ….. just packed ur bags and do wat u really want to do …. atleast arrange meeting with ur relatives at ur sweat childhood house and remember those days together…….

  • Healthwealthbridge by Dr.Amrita Basu

    The past has its place .I have moved 6 times in 8 years.Both of us have a transferrable job,so theres really no other option.I read a book called Love the home you Have by Melissa michaels of inspiredroom and it has changed my life.Wherever I live I am happy if my family is there .A house is made into a home by the familyand you obviously lknow what makes happy memeories coz you have them .Right?
    Lovely post

  • BellyBytes

    As a Navy brat I too moved 23 homes in as many years and it is only now that I can call my home my home after staying here for over 35 years. Funnily, my parents have settled down in Pune after my dad’s retirement from the Navy and has been there for over 25 years but my mother got rid of all the stuff I remember from my childhood – the tins which she used to store the grain etc. and replaced everything with ‘new stuff’ so I still don’t feel my childhood home is the same……

  • Roshan Radhakrishnan

    Aww… I felt sad at the end there. I can imagine exactly what it must feel like. Once I joined college for MBBS back in 1999, I have never really been able to live at home, going to work all over the place. Coming home now feels slightly alien after all these years.
    The memories haunt as the friends who once were a staple part of life here have all moved on.


  • coolkidandy

    This brings memories of my childhood. I spent my 8 years at our ancestral house in the city and then 12 years in a nearby province. Now, I’m in China and planning to stay here for a long time. Reading your post made me travel back in time when all I wanted to do was to play scrabble or look at the stars.

    Thank you for this wonderful post. Yes, home is truly where the heart is.

    Way to go fellow A-to-Z-er!

  • Geets

    I think it’s mostly about the memories of staying in a particular place. We get so attached with them because all our childhood and life has been captured there… that’s the reason why some people refuse to their home and that makes absolute sense!


  • Shilpa Garg

    I know what you mean. But I think wherever I stay, I make that as my home. Last year, I stayed in Kuwait for more than a month and that room in the hotel felt like a home. And the same goes for any place I travel for more than 3-5 days. I mean, I love coming back to my room, my bed and making it a comfortable and cozy place. In 20 years of marriage, we have had 11 different houses across different states and cities and I loved being there in each one of them and have some beautiful memories associated with all of them.

  • Mocktail mommies

    Lovely article. Your description of your childhood home brought back memories of my younger days spent in our home in Bangalore in the nineties…..and yeah, we did have a washing stone in our backyard too😊…..Very well written.

  • Chaotic Soul

    Beautifully written…! Amazing! I can relate to that… 3 years ago when my Dadu (paternal grandpa) passed away my aunts decided to sell off the family house as no one would be able to maintain it. Even now, every month or so, I visit the place and look at the balcony where he used to sit and feed me…

    Ashmita Chatterjee

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