Dear Aditi,
I came back to Bangalore. Now I barely spent any time at home, trying my best to be out. I have been calling hostel home recently, but honestly it isn't one no more how homely my friends make it.
For one, there is no bell. I never thought about it before, but I missed having the bell to ring knowing that my mom would greet me. So even though I had the keys with me the entire time, I always rang the bell.
The other thing about home I missed was the freedom. Now, even in the hostel I have freedom. And most people would be freer in the hostel than in their home, but we are quite lucky that way having such chill parents. I drank basically every night, and learned that I make damn good cocktails. And absinthe is the drink of Gods. And I want more.
I also realised that home is my mother's home. Like when I think about our house in Mumbai, she is the only constant. In my mind it's become her house more than mine. And frankly I'm not even that mad.
(I'm not really sure how much of that made sense. I don't really think much while writing. Or doing anything.)
Anyway, back to home. I could be a sap and say you are my home, but I'm a saap so I won't say that. Cause you already know.
Also a new year started. Yay. And I still missed the day I was supposed to post. But I had an important exam to be fair. I really want to not do a 2017 this year.
This year needs to be good. I don't know why it 'needs' to be. But everyone is tired, okay? Including me. So I really need it to be good.
This one really has no cohesion. Oh well.
Love,
Upa.
No comments:
Post a Comment