Home; a place you can relax…a place that most have their freedom. The words "home" and "house" are two are so similar but so different. A house is is a construction.. its usually described with walls,doors,windows etc. but a home is where you feel safe and unique in your own way… but to me it's much more… it's where my heart lies.
My home is where i belong. No matter what i know i can try, almost like I can touch the sky. When I'm pessimistic or rapturous, home is the one place in the world i can run to. When i feel like i have no one or no where to escape from the teenage drama or the scurrilous lies people say.. my home is always there for me.
Home isn't just an ordinary word , everyone has their own definition of their home. Mine is the place that accepts me for who I am. I don't have to pretend or put on a mask . I have to be who I really am inside and no one will judge.
The Smell. The Sound. The Scene. The Feeling. Its unimaginable! My Home or should I say "house" isn't very big…. It's not a huge 5 bedroom villa…it doesn't have a backyard or a picturesque garden… It's a not a mansion but its just a simple apartment but truthfully thats all i need. A place to go to when I'm alone… A place to call home.
When I walk through the lobby I can always smell a beautiful scent of flower diffuse through the air… every week it's usually different..Some times its tulips or daffodils or even lilacs spreading its smell around the room filling everyone's nostrils with a wonderful essence
As I ascend up the elevator and enter my deep passageway that leads to my home, I notice the different religions and culture as i walk through. Some doors with an arabic sign on or some doors with an Indian clay pot which lights in the night. Different fragrances coming out of each apartment … some with a sweet smell but some smell with the smell of curry or biryani.
In the night you can usual hear children playing outside in the corridor or adults laughing or entertaining guests. Somedays there is old music blasting through our neighbors houses. You can hear mothers screaming at their children for being immature or disobedient . When I take a minute to listen to the variety of sounds I notice the different types of people who live on either side of my apartment.
No matter where in the world i may travel or stay and no matter how peaceful or boisterous the location may be, at the end of it all when i get out of the taxi and go through my usual path up the elevator and through the corridor and when i reach my apartment … a smile always creeps up my face because no matter where i may go , I will always love my home. As they say … its "Home Sweet Home"
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