Hello Everyone!
You ever had a quarrel at home? Ever thought you're not valued in your own home?
Most of us do (few in exception)
When you're young, you always feel like leaving the house. Notice I said House; not Home. You always think that- leaving the house is the only solution for personal freedom.
I understand, getting along with the same people for around 15-20 years is no joke. Ofcourse you'll have playful banter, which eventually fade, or let's say it transforms into disagreements and arguments, and one fine day your threshold is reached. There you question the respect you have for the other person; and vice versa. The later matters the most, and always interesting to know whether the person has even a bit of respect for us. At least the way we were treated, doesn't say so.
You try to forget, you try to let it go. Sometime you'll win, the other times you're a poor loser. But the feeling, the feeling never really disappears.
But once you left the home, for even few months, you'll realise that the same people who pushed your patience to the threshold, were the ones giving you strength in the most straightforward way possible. The same set of people caring about every other thing you thought they don't give a damn about.
Once you start living away, the silence of the room hits differently. The little argument you once hated, suddenly seems like background noise you miss. The nagging about eating on time, the complaints about you being on your phone everytime, feels like an echo of care which we never valued when they were around us daily.
You begin to notice the world outside is not as forgiving as our home was. Mistakes that were once took down with a scolding, now bear real consequences.
It's only then that you understand that home was never about agreeing to each other or being perfect. It was about having people, who despite knowing your flaws loves you to the moon and back, and never stops worrying about you.
It's strange, isn't it?
We grew up craving for freedom, and when we get it, we crave the same chaos which we left behind, at home. Because that chaos wasn't just noise, it was love and affection, abstracted.
In the end, it's not the silence of freedom that we remember, but the noise of the ones who loved us!
.
.
.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Leave us your reviews