I have been planning the plan of a house for some time now, just a plan with a placeholder for start date. The concept of living in a metro in a flat doesn’t appeal to me where you live on top of other people (and their expectations) as well as below others (and more expectations). This imbalance of expectations is greater depending on which floor of the building you are on. Metaphorically speaking.
One can build a house, but when does one call it home? I live in a house here in the city, I have my parents, relatives and in-laws houses where I go to. Which one would I call home? The one where you can stay the way you like, of course with adjustments, but where the amount of adjustments is minimal. This adjustments are subject to making the house better, closer to one you can call home.
Co-incidentally I am also reading this travelogue of an American Jew who traveled all the way to India by foot, hitchhiking rides, without any money. He is now known by the name of Radhanath Swami. The book is called ‘The Journey Home‘. I may not be religious, but I am very much moved by his determination to follow the calling of his heart to find his spiritual goal. His Why. He calls the entire country home, while he doesn’t enjoy the comforts we decorate and arrange our houses with. Walking in tattered clothes, sleeping in temples, river banks, and caves, he has this feeling of home wherever he goes to. The unknown road is his home.
Two very different takes, on the two ends of the materialistic spectrum.
Image courtesy: Pexels
Random Musings 