The idea of it has been like those fuzzy dreams you remember in parts when you get up the next day. You are filled with a strange anxiety . You try hard to make sense of why you feel a certain way . Yet you do because you have been consumed with an idea. You aren’t even sure how it feels or seems but you obsess over it day in day out.
That’s me for over 3 decades yearning to feel home.
For a lot of people , the idea of home is comfort or a sense of belonging , a person even.
For me its none of those . My vision of home always involved me curled up in a lounge chair sipping on some coffee , reading a book or typing away on my laptop, alone.
Home has always been all about aesthetics . It has go to be pretty.
And an insane sense of control. One space where I am in charge and I call the shots.
Warning : If you have never been in a hostel or PG and worse , never shifted homes – THIS is perhaps the point where you move to some other blog post since contents hereafter will make little sense to you.
So here’s the back story . Being an army kid , accommodation was pre-lived and passed on from one alloted personnel to another. Black boxes contained our life’s treasures , picking up furniture and decor piece by piece everywhere we went across the country.
Home during school days was an assortment of things , people and events . A bunch of strangers thronged our premises like extended family [ cooks , cleaners and batman bhaiyyas ] , hoards of relatives dropped by as excited tourists during their vacations & a lot of socializing happened over weekends & festivals with diverse set of uncles and aunties who formed our social circle.
During college and the years that followed as a single working woman , the idea of home was essentially going back and feeling a temporary sense of calm , a break from a mad crazy life.
It’s only when I stepped into an empty space with bare walls and squeaky floors early this year on a sunshiny January morning did I really understand the idea of home.
It’s what you create that comes close to defining you. Your tastes and preferences , classy or eclectic . Your imperfections – when you get some things right and some just fall flat. Home is the only tangible asset that you create with your heart & sweat that is of emotional & financial value.
So after a wait of 8 years [ and many before that I am not counting before that ] and months of making mind numbing choices and reeling under self doubt while selecting laminates , fabrics , wall paper patterns , false ceiling designs and what nots I finally can see what waking up from a dream feels like.
All things pretty. All things bright . All things mine. My home.
Cant get enough of the amazing transformation ?
Share my wonder at how a blank canvas can change into a riot of colours and textures? Well then join me on Instagram as I post more amazing pictures and take a sneak peek into the home of my dreams.
Have a story of your dream home? Please share , am all ears !