HOME IS NO WHERE

Probably if you ask me to describe it, i will not be able to produce the defined meaning of "HOME" exactly as i could when i left it afresh. Like many of my pasts this also left me stranded for quite long. Talk about rest in solace, if i get a translucent feeling thinking about home , i believe that i almost everyday fall in love with this feeling but with little peace around.
Volumes of variety have i met till now , likewise people in different mobs teach me a lot about human cynicism but where work is not worship you are already without an address.
One may classify differnt feelings attached to his own home, i probably do it in terms of may be one or all of these-satisfaction, love, purity , honesty, assets , thanksgiving, awareness and above all rests peace (at least for me peace will do as of everytime).I have lost myself for describing any of them because i get a feeling that home is nowhere.It pertains not to physically the home but the place itself .Then why should the feeling be , fact of the matter is why don't you accept every place lovingly.
What you think inside is perceived by your senses and your actions correspond your perception.After all beauty lies in the eyes of beholder , here this will show your imagination.If i crave for things to appear smaller a deal rather than a big deal, i would definitely miss out on the good and the best parts.So its better to dream alike your imagination even when you know that you are doing too little to achieve it.
A dream to call somewhere a home that you may boast to yourself as your big asset, put it this way "It is one of the most precious thing as a human you've ever cherished".
I am a lot of times haunted by this feeling many a times that a place so beautiful beholds my eyes., millions of stars in a single gazelike diamonds in the night ,pitch dark. A night so dark with river flowing past my house making shy little sound of the touch.In the sound of the cold breeze where no other sound but the one by birds feeding their tiny ones in nests resting in tall trees.
Home is not just the bricks and walls but with people who make it worthwhile.
All such people who you believe have been there since like ages are to be found missing a lot of times when you are reminded of them. But unlike humans who are never to stay forever only the memoirs of their homes and the place they have been remain alive forever. Places remain humans don't, so Home is again no where for humans.
The lasting impressions that we leave on the place and people are what constitute the bricks, the walls being the insight memory of the times spent, the windows being the big hits that you often cherish and the doors are the gateway you seem to imagine of ever going to a place called HOME.