Home

It has been half a year I am at Copenhagen. Before that, I was at Mumbai for eighteen months. Before that, I was at Chennai for forty six months. Before that, due to my post graduation, job and other stuff, I was living away from my family for almost four years.

Whenever I travelled around – which I do a lot - I met a whole bunch of interesting people who were very generous in sharing their perspectives about life, universe and everything else. The Chennaites asked me a plenty of questions regarding Mumbai. The Danish have a boatload of them about India. Regardless of the geography, there was one question which was, easily, the most asked.

Do you miss home?

When asked what do they mean by that, the answer has been banal, at best and ambiguous, at worst. One of my KRA’s is trend spotting; so, here is a concentrated list of answers I have:
1. Family
2. Friends
3. Girlfriend
4. Wife
5. Children
6. Sunlight
7. Warmth
8. Food
9. You know…home

During my younger days, I would say, no, I don’t miss home. This would lead to surprising reactions. Some said I lacked a heart, some declared I was one of the running-after-money-leaving-family-to-fend-for-themselves kind, some delicate souls stopped talking to me and so on.

Trend mapping came to my rescue, again.

When this question is put forth now, I start with a sigh. Then I randomly pick any of the nine enumerated above and voice maudlin thoughts till interrupted. It is especially interesting since
1. I don’t have points 3, 4 and 5, as of date
2. I am not concerned much about pt. 8 as long I get my daily protein and fiber quota
3. As long as there is no rain or snow, I don’t care much about pt. 6 too

But, seriously, what is home?

Definitions range from being mushy (Home is where the heart is) to corny (A place where you can scratch where it itches). A structure of four walls and a ceiling is, at best, a house.

When I was at Chennai, I made frequent trips to Kerala. I understand a bit of Tamizh but Malayalam is beyond my comprehension. After reaching Tamil Nadu, I felt at home.

So, is the homely feeling dependent on language?

When I went to Sweden, I could not understand one word of Swedish. But I felt at home as soon as I hit the Danish shores. To my untrained ears, Swedish and Danish don’t differ much and I don’t understand either.

Is it dependent on family?

I felt at home at Chennai and Denmark, even though my family is not with me. Don’t get me wrong, I love my family.

Is it dependent on friends?

My friends have their own lives to take care of. I cannot carry them around and neither am I quick at forging new ones.

Perhaps, I have become what Metallica sang in ‘Wherever I may roam’.

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Roamer, wanderer
Nomad, vagabond
Call me what you will

And the earth becomes my throne
I adapt to the unknown
Under wandering stars I've grown
By myself but not alone
I ask no one…

Anywhere I roam
Where I lay my head is home’
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That’s correct.

Where I lay my head is home.

Sweet home.