The House That Built Me

April 13, 2015

Note :This is a really old blogpost I wrote sometime around last April and it used to be one of my favourite posts on my old blog.( Yes I used to have a personal blog before I started this one.) I thought this deserves a place on any blog that I decide to start because it's so close to my heart. I hope you enjoy reading it. 

The last week of my life has been one of the most amazing times I’ve had in this year. I went back to visit my childhood house, where I grew up and it was the most exhilarating experience ever. I moved from that place when I was around 8-9 years old and although I wouldn’t call it my teenage home but it was my early childhood, the years with the best memories. As soon as I set foot on the porch, I was so overwhelmed by the memories and stories from my parents who kept narrating it to the new residents. The new residents were slightly shocked and very amused to see the old residents of the house, the people who actually had built it to come back and visit after decades. The whole idea of visiting it was on a whim. We were passing through the town and we randomly decided to go in and pay a visit. I must say that was one of the top best decisions I’ve ever made. The three hours that I spent in that house made me feel so giddy and whole inside and made me forget every worry I had. I felt closer to my inner child who had been long gone and suppressed but now it wanted to come out and play.
It’s uncanny how I remember every little detail of the furniture and rooms of this house. Although many residents have lived here and each of them has made changes to it over the years, the original house remains etched in my memory. I can remember things I did in every corner of the house all those years ago more than what I did last month.When the residents gave me a tour of the entire house, I felt like I didn’t need any guidance. I knew every nook, every secret of the house better than any of them. I felt proud to have remembered this magical place and this must be what heaven feels like. One of my theories about after-death and heaven is the place has to do with some of the good memories of the life I’ve lived so I could go back and relive them. It would have been frustrating if I walked into this half changed house and not remember my childhood, my roots, where I came from. It’s true that some of the best memories never die; they live on with you forever no matter where you go.
Photography by Farhad Sadykov
  This is the house that moulded me, taught me so many things, gave me life changing experiences which has made me who I am today. I owe everything to this place. I couldn’t help get a little teary-eyed while I was taking the tour. So I quickly climbed up the stairs to the terrace which used to be my very own hideout spot. I would spend hours on the terrace sitting on a chair, reading Enid Blyton novels or playing with my toys up there. Especially during the holidays, it used to be a task to bring me back down for my meals because I refused to leave the place. I would lie down in the hot summer evenings, looking at the star-lit sky. One of the things I loved about the town is we could still fall asleep staring at stars. Sometimes when I would have some kids over, they would also join me at the terrace and play games together.Those were the years I would never regret and always look back on.
Now after growing up in this big bad world, those years feel like heaven when trusting people wasn’t that hard, I had no worries , the biggest decisions I would make was what I would eat that day and everyone would love me unconditionally. After this visit, I was taken back to my happy place, the place I hope would come back to me and things would be just like it used to be all those years ago. Living in the past has never been a good thing but when some things of your past make you so happy, it’s okay to dwell on them once in a while. A lot of people aren’t blessed with happy childhood memories and I consider myself so lucky that I have these to think about, smile to myself and pass on these stories some years down the line. I’m glad I can resort to these during dark times. I would be completely lost without them. If the question on your mind is “After all this time?” then I’m obliged to reply with a proud and teary-eyed “Always”
Photographed by Vivian Farinazzo

The title of the post has been inspired by the song – The House That Built Me by Miranda Lambert. She won a Grammy for this song back in 2011. I absolutely love the lyrics of the song which is also about someone's childhood home and the moment I walked in to my old house, I thought of this song.

To never growing up,

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