I am where my heart is and my heart is where my home is. In my home I am king, emperor, prince and public, all in one. I might move hundreds of miles away and I may be given the highest palace to live in but at that distance, and in such a palace, the intimacy with the home will remain. Home really is the best, as they say, and the home is the best for me as well, no exception.
The emotional, spiritual and even moral attachments that are there with one’s home are intimate and strong; broken they break not. It is in the home we get the compassion of father, love of mother, and companionship of siblings, care of spouse, concern of the children and guidance of the grandparents for those lucky ones who have them. Nowhere else is that possible, if the place is not home and where it is possible will naturally become a home.
Within the four walls of a home every person is rich, what is there belongs to that person. No poverty, even in poverty, is there in an ideal home, those where poverty exists, it is that of material kind only. The fathers scold, the mothers rescue, the brothers bashing, the sisters quarrel, the spouses teasing and the grandparents advices, how poverty can reside amidst all this?
This is the real worth, asset, property and riches a man can have. Indeed a human should strive to get riches and material wealth in life but while doing that the riches that are already there should be valued as well. While trying to find material wealth the wealth already with us in the form of our homes and the people constituting those homes must never be undermined; that, in fact, is the real wealth.
A home ideally requires four walls of the house, no matter what the size of that house. Along with the attachment with the people of the home, there is great attachment with the house as well. Strongest of that attachment is with the house in which childhood is spent. Attachment with the house where a person spends his early adulthood, middle age and even the old age can be well imagined. The house or houses where a person might shift or shifts can never substitute the attachment that was there in the first one.
House is not only a place to live and rest with the people who matter for you it is more than that. It is a confidant, a healer, a place of peace and an asylum from the pains and hardships of the outside world. In the harsh conditions of the outside world it is the house where we turn to get some respite. Under the circumstances of all round rejection it is the house which never closes its doors. And when nobody needs us outside the house and home never likes our absence. The house and the home really are confidants, companions, comrades and counsels of men.
All the treasures of the world may get gone but then the memories and remembrances of the moments spent in the house, and the first house of life, can never go. These are the great treasures and no wealth and power in the world can buy them. The people with whom life is spent in the house remain there long after they are gone; they remain there in the form of their memories.
This precisely is the reason the people who have passed appreciable part of their life in one house, and once they have built more luxurious houses, want to go back to their old broken and shabby houses and their old homes. They want to experience those old moment again and again, repeatedly and consistently. But alas, it is hardly possible to go to the old houses back and it is not always possible to find same sweet old people in those houses.
People have changed and the old ones are gone. Some of the old ones may return occasionally but there are those who are dead now and can never return. It is not that the new people are not sweet and they are not special. It is not that they don’t care about you and for you but the care of a mother, that of a father and that of the siblings in the early part of life is special.
Special is the case of a mother and the father, when they are gone and they are gone forever, none literally none can take their place, none at all. The remembrances of the parents bring with them the memories of the ragged walls and broken floors and unembellished ceilings of the house and or reminisces of the old house bring back the memories of the people who live in that house.
Relating my story the house and home where I live is special for it is the same place where I lived with my father who is no more with me now. It is the same place where I used to saw my mother as a young and energetic lady. Like the real home maker and good administrator who sacrificed a lot for the home and house and the people they live in but today that is not the case.
Today seeing my mother in her old age sends chills down my spines. Today my mother is unable to work and she is not in the health. Her worn out and wrinkled face makes me numb and makes me concerned more. I have lost my father and the only wealth from my parent’s sides is the face and words and presence of my mother, how can I let go those memories of my mother in the prime of her health. How can I leave that house where I have seen my mother in that state without feeling pain?
The world became too much harsh for us and it was within the four walls of our house that we comforted each other and withstood those days of poverty, daily embarrassments and disgrace. My sisters, me and my mother, during last days of our father, we kept bearing all that without complaining without telling anything harsh to each other. Life was really harsh and in those harsh days were also the beautiful moments of the life.
Life passed and today is a new stage; it is my turn for parenting my children. Perhaps in some respects the life of the children is much easier and luxurious but life is not only about facilities, wealth and money and that is the reason why many people remain poor in opulence. Proper parenting, education, guidance and equipping the children with the logistics and knowledge about how to deal with the lows of life are the keys for their successful living. Hope their house and their home becomes comfortable and all the memorable moments are filled their life with.
Now I am leaving this house, I have decided to construct a new one. The old one has developed cracks; its foundation has suffered damage. But in its damaged foundation gives me strength. May be after some days or months the house may not be there, it might be dismantled but then it will always remain there in the form of its memories, life without these remembrances will be incomplete.
No new house can substitute the memories and value this house has for my life. The heart wants to touch these walls and say thanks each brick stone and piece of timber of this house. And the heart is saying it a big thank you. Life might be easy now but the basis of that ease lay in the moments and time passed in this house, real big thank you.
— The author who can be reached at fayaz.greatstep@gmail, tweets @ FayazdaaTribal