Yesterday I was asked by a shopkeeper , this question “where do you come from?” This is not the first time I have been asked this question and this will not be the last. But every time when I’m asked this I am at a loss for an answer. The question by itself is very simple and not from any angle glamorous . Many would name their state with great pride. To me it is a very complicated answer. I wish I could tell them I come from five elements-air, water, earth, fire and sky. This would sound cocky, saucy and impudent on my part.

On a serious note, where do I come from?  Where is my home?  What ascertains one’s home? Is it the place of birth? Is it an ancestral place one never sets eyes upon? Or is it a place where one’s formative years are spent or is it a place where one dwells on compulsion because of livelihood or marriage or millions of other reasons.  What do you call as your home?

I think I would call a place my home not for any of the above reasons but simply because it defines me. It accepts me for what I am and gives me space for my stillness.  My home is where my heart is. I do not have to live in it, I do not have to even visit it but rejoice in its simplicity and in its greatness.  To me concrete building is not a home where I can sleep but a vast expanse valley snaking its way to the sea engulfed by the great hills. That is my home.  I may not have come from there but one day I would like to reach there.  To my home- my destination.