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Old Memories – Fresh Pen | Series 1


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Welcome to a new series of posts where I will take you to the untouched box of memories from my past. The oldest of my memories are just flashes of my childhood. I have gone back into ages to remember my first shot of memory and share it with you all. I have penned down my deepest thoughts and the air feels alive once again.

From the core

I must have been 5 or 6 years old at that time. The clippings are all jumbled up and I am not sure which one exactly comes first. I remember my first home in Darya Ganj, Delhi where I was born. There were 6 open flats inside a big building and our flat was on the first floor along with a room set on the second floor. My dad had maintained a beautiful garden on the second floor. And I remembered that he used to take care of the plants all by himself.

We always admire those things which we can’t get easily. Similar was the case with me when it came to the nearby houses.

I always liked the ground floor flat on the opposite side. I had heard many stories from my Grandmother that described the flat so beautifully. It was an unfulfilled desire to have a look of that flat from inside.

I also liked another flat opposite to our building at the corner of the road. It was a vast round shaped bungalow. I had asked my grandparents millions of times that why didn’t we live in that house? That was brilliantly made.

My grandmother used to visit her friend and I used to accompany her many times. I liked her house too. It was all white and big. It had spiral stairs and it was fun to climb them.

Lessons learnt later in life

Now when I look back at my past, I just laugh away. But on a serious note, why did I like everybody’s home except my own? I was always fascinated by their home’s size and architecture. The colour and space had made a place of its own into my mind. Maybe because:

  • At such a tender age, we don’t have thoughts of our own to make an opinion of how the house should be. Whatever we see, we want it.
  • But yes, I had dreamed of a beautiful house since my childhood and today, I live in a house that is truly beautiful or rather made beautiful.
  • It is later in the age that we understand the importance of a reoccurring dream. A dream fits itself into our subconscious and our subconscious mind starts working to achieve it.
  • We may forget about our dream but our subconscious never.
  • Wisely we learn that home is not beautiful because of its space; big or small but because of the love out of which it is made.

Memories are old but the pen is fresh.

I am taking part in The Write Tribe Problogger October 2017 Blogging Challenge 

 

 

Write Tribe
Also, linking this post with Amrita and Tina for Thankful Thursdays
 

36 thoughts on “Old Memories – Fresh Pen | Series 1

  1. everyone needs a beautiful home. its funny how you describe ur fondness for neighbors house. Thanks for linking up with #ThankfulThursdays.

     
  2. Agree that it’s love that makes a home beautiful. 🙂 You know Geethica, I have almost never yearned for a beautiful home. As a kid or as an adult now. All I need is a roof, fresh air and Sun light 🙂 These three make me happy 🙂

     
  3. Childhood is innocence; a period when you think more with your heart than you do with your mind, and that’s why we find things that do not belong to us a lot more fascinating than those that belong to us. It’s only in adulthood that we realise how blessed we are!

     
  4. The quote ‘Love makes house home’ stands so true. As a child we are fascinated by what others have, but growing up gives us perspective. Happy to know that you found your dream house. 🙂

     
  5. Without love and family the best architecturally sound house is a waste. A small home is enough if the heart has place for more. Lovely post. ❤

     
  6. It is indeed the love and memories that make any place or house beautiful and worth living. Loved your take on the series.

     
  7. Being nomads, for better part of life, I have stayed in houses of different sizes and shapes. From bungalow to tiny mini studio… all were home to me. And as I read your post, Geethica, all those houses float in mind. All had been my home at one point of time. As rightly said by you, its us that make the house home!
    Engaging post!
    – Anagha From Team MocktailMommies

     
  8. True, the biggest palace seems like a desert if there is no love, and if you are surrounded by people who love you, then, space doesn’t matter. Everything seems lovely. Well written.

     
  9. They say that our childhood memories shape our adult life. It’s lovely that your home is as beautiful as that of your dreams and memories!!

     
  10. It is interesting to read how you didn’t like your own house but found the neighbour’s spiral stairs fun to climb. Our first homes always have a special place in our hearts which we slowly realise that it was pure love which was making it special

     
    1. I agree to that Monika. I never realised that I would miss my first home so much after growing up. The same house which I didn’t like at that time. Thank you dear.

       

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