Home Sweet Home

With great apprehension, I walked towards the exit of Bhubaneswar airport. That was two months ago. I was greeted with a hot an humid Monday morning. Among the many faces, I searched for the familiar face of my husband. Tapa didn't fail me. I allowed my gnawing anxiety to ease a bit as I rushed towards him, letting go off my luggage and a bit of poise.

I was to report to office that morning. Before that, I had to go home, dump my luggage and get ready. On the way home, I tried capturing the new city unfolding before my eyes. A long road, roadside shops, billboards, people, all new sights and sounds.

At the end of this seemingly unending road, we turned left and got off the main road. A dusty road, leading to dustier roads. Each turn brought me fresh bouts of alarm as the road got more and more unkempt. Finally, we stopped before a lonely house with an ugly looking, uncared garden. I was prepared for an ugly situation, but the house was worse than anything I had imagined. Not in terms of size or general architecture. It looked so forlorn, as if apologizing for its state of neglect.

Inside, it was a typical bachelor pad. It was hard to imagine that a man took rest in such an uninspiring house. Although Tapa had managed to clean it, especially for me, it's bland walls and furniture made me cringe.

Since that day, we have managed to make this house resemble a home. The floor is swept. The bed is made with bright bed spreads and plump pillows. The fridge has fresh vegetables, milk, cottage cheese, half used packs of tomato puree, cartons of juice instead of just half filled bottles of water and frozen, ready to eat meals. The kitchen counter is scrubbed, no matter how tiring my day was. The sink is not overflowing with week old, unwashed utensils. The clothes line is burdened with washed clothes, brightly drying in the sun. The windows are left open religiously morning and evening. The tall grass and weeds have been replaced by freshly planted baby jasmines.

I will be sad when I have to move back to Mysore. I will remember how I set up my first home. Not my house of dreams perhaps but definitely my home sweet home.