For a lot of people, home is the house where they grew up in. For others, home is where they live. For some, home is something they dream of because they don't have one.
Our canine babies under the dining table
Our home is nothing like the newer houses being built in the village. Ours is a single story home and it is square. Not many frills. It does not have a hall or any intricate design. Though my Dad added an extra room which is considered as "upstairs," we leave that room empty and is used only when my brother or sister come to visit -- a guest room, you might say.Of course, our canine babies may disagree that it is "our home" as they tend to go around like they own the place -- which we willingly let them do.
Dad doing some gardening
Home is where I can lounge around in my oldest and most frayed t-shirts and faded pajamas. It is where I can relax and cook whatever I want, make as much noise as I want, make as much of a mess as I want (though that can get me in trouble -- cleaning up is never as fun as making a mess), and even make as much of a fool of myself as I want... Nobody can boss me around in our home -- well, except maybe Dad and the canines (hehehe).It is about 24 years old. It looks different now from what it did when it was built because my Dad likes to make changes each time we need to get something repaired or fixed.
Jyoti sneaking back out of the garden
Once we had a gorgeous lawn with lush grass and flowering plants galore but termites ruined that pretty picture. We had to get rid of the lawn and now we are left with just small mini-gardens on three sides. Termites damaging the wood on the interior doors also caused a major repair work which meant the installation of aluminum doors and that changed the look of the house again. Then we had problems with peeling paint which Dad addressed by having most of the walls tiled.But... whatever the changes and whatever the coming changes will be... there is still no place like home. Home is definitely my most favorite thing.