For me, Home is where mom is!

I am not one of those fortunate ones who have had a home for generations and can dream to look for that forever. I have been moving from house to house, street to street and from city to city and today to a totally new country. Technically family to me means me, mom and dad. And we have together grown from a single room apartment to a luxurious two bedroom apartment. And the meaning of home has been just the same in every house. We definitely are more equipped today but we have had the same experiential home ever since. Home is not a physical thing. It is not in between the four walls but it is my folks who define my home.
It is indeed a very thoughtful question. Which is my home? Which is my street? Which is my city? Which is my country? Probably all the people I grew up with define my home, my street, my city and my country. I have grown up in three different cities in India and feel greatly attached to all of them. On a broader sense I call India my home. Is it because I have grown there or is it because my folks are there? I don’t really know! But at the end of every day, I want to go to my home, where my mom opens the door for me, eagerly waiting for me to be back home! Home is definitely where mom is! Home is where the kitchen is owned by mom! Home is where mom decides what’s for dinner tonight? Home is where I can just lie down on the couch after a tiring day and sleep like a child and be rest assured that first sight in the morning is going to be my mom’s!
Home is where I make my way along my dad’s principles and moms love. This is the emotional aspect of it! If I had to talk about the right streets and the right house then I would say it’s the right light! Home is where sun shines on me every morning! Home is where the wind blows through every window and home is where the colors on the wall speak my language of being bold in every situation irrespective of it being a surprise or an expected disaster. Home is where not just me but my friends too feel at home!