Going Home

They say home is where the heart is, the place where we are accepted for who we are and what we want to be. The place where we don’t have to change who we are for people to like us but we want to, so that life maybe easier for those who make a place our home. Home is not always the place where we are born or the place we where we live and sometimes it does not even exists outside our heads but whatever it is, where ever it is, it the one place which we would not even hesitate to die for, the place whose memories we treasure more than perhaps lie itself. It is the lovely, dark and deep woods which pulls our soul towards peace, it the place where when we close our eyes to rest, we already dream of being awake. It is the place where every day maybe is not better than the last or even happy but where every thing some way or other brings us peace, makes us think and smile even through eyes full of tears. The place where we care for others beyond ourselves, the place where our heart sings and where we feel that we belong, the place where we get out true names and know our true selves, where our differences do not make us targets but give us a purpose to live and love. Love our parents, our friends and ourselves.

For people like me, out home lies deep in the pages of books, in worlds where things happen beyond our reckoning, where lions roar and Pegasus fly, where war is a myth and happiness flies likes birds and smiles twinkle like streams full of stars in broad daylight, where we get so lost among yellowing pages and words that time and reality lose all meaning, where we know the world in those books, the people there perhaps better than we know our own selves, their words better than our own. Their smiles are our smiles, their pain our pain. We may laugh at their love and fear but in the end we are them and they are us, both craved from the same pen and spelled from the same ink, with memories that span the length of the world. Like how every fan of the Hunger Games smiles when they see a sugar cube and how every “Divergent” feels nostalgic when they go zip lining and how every Potterhead smiles at the thought Hogwarts and every demigod yearns for their camp Half-blood.

Maybe for others their world lies within those whose eyes hold their beauty or in the world created by colour and pain on canvas, decorating nature and yet others find peace in helping others and protecting the world, in being brave and some in reality. However, one thing remains the same no matter where one’s home lies, it is the one place where in the end we are all welcomed with open arms and smiling faces.

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