‘Home is where the heart is.’
I’ve never quite been able to grasp the essence of these words until now. As I sat down to write this blog, I was flustered out of unawareness of what the word ‘HOME’ meant to me.
My mom, noticing the almonds that still lay untouched for the past two hours, exclaimed peevishly, ‘Saanvi, eat the almonds RIGHT NOW!’ I looked at her and smiled. It’s as if I had a light bulb moment and realized that ‘home’ was currently glaring at me in bewilderment.
Home – it’s not a place but a soul-stirring feeling. A fervor that overwhelms us with reassurance, solitude, and sheer comfort. An inexplicable feeling that personifies my MOM.
After an exhausting day, with all my energy drained out, the only burning desire was to run into her arms. The warmth of her embrace seeps into my skin, rejuvenating me with the long-lost energy. As each day rushes by, bringing me closer to the inevitable moment when I must part ways with her and embark on a new chapter, a sense of fear grips me for I would have to leave behind the only refuge from the harsh realities that engulf us. But I dismissed that train of thought immediately. I refuse to delve into woe right now, especially when I’m writing about someone so enigmatically beautiful. Though hell hath no fury like my mother scorned, she exudes optimism and bonhomie like no other person I know. She is the silver lining in the darkest of times. Her boundless love fills my heart with joy and exhilaration, like a gentle shower of affection that knows no bounds. Her profusion of sacrifices has scrupulously crafted me into who I am today. An invisible thread binds us together, drawing us back to one another even when we’re miles apart. A single word of affirmation, a smile, a hug, or a kiss from her brings solace to my heart and I would have never been able to experience the captivating warmth and the radiant love if it weren’t for her. I owe it all to her.
In the most maudlin of words, even if we were in the middle of an apocalypse, I would be at home with her by my side. In her presence, any place transforms into a home.
Home is where she is.
Name: Saanvi Rungta | Class: XII | Section: C1
