A place called home
A video essay grappling with the question of "what makes a space, a home?"
Hi,
I’m back with another video after a long time.
A few years back, I made a podcast about my hostel room. My experience in the hostel room changed me in a myriad of ways. It changed the way I think about a home.
But, that moment had to come to an end. I wasn’t sure if I would every have such a unique home again.
I was working remotely. The pandemic has restricted opportunities. It seemed unlikely that I could experience such a space again.
A year back, I took a decision with two of my friends to move into a new flat. Can I consider this new place a home, when I already have one in the same city?
What does it really mean to be at home?
I’ve been grappling with these questions for a year and this video attempts at capturing these swirling thoughts in my head.
There is a moment in the week that I absolutely love and find magical.
It has been a tiring day. I am coming back from work. Heading up the elevator to the top floor. I take off my shoes outside the door.
I enter and find my flatmates (and friends) Krishnan and Sandesh chatting away, watching Modern Family on TV.
I set my bag aside and join them.
Maybe for half an hour, we exchange stories from the day. Share some laughter and express our collective disappointment in adulting.
This particular moment feels like I am in my own pocket universe, away from all the heaviness and fatigue I carry throughout the day.
I feel lighter.
It may have been a tiring day, but I am at home now.
All is well.
—---
When can you start calling someplace your home?
Ever since I moved out of my home into a new house last year – this is a question I’ve been thinking about a lot.
Home has always meant where your elders are. The place where you grew up. The streets where you learnt how to play. The neighbourhood that has all your favourite eateries. The room that contains your entire collection of books.
Home is the place where most of your history is.
But, this changed when I went to college in Jodhpur.
A tiny hostel room in an unfamiliar city became my home.
It didn’t matter that my history was not present in that room. Or that I didn’t grow up here. Or that my family was with me.
Home was now a place where I was writing my own story. With new friends and people that I deeply cared for.
Home became more than just history.
It also meant freedom to create your own.
—
During the pandemic, I went back to living at home again. Stayed with my family. Worked remotely. Stuck to the place that contained most of my history. It was different now.
My experience living in Jodhpur, fundamentally altered how I thought about a home. It wasn’t just about my roots anymore. I was searching for something more as I waged a battle with adulthood. I needed to change. I longed for a home despite living in one.
So, when I had the opportunity to move out, I did.
Two friends of mine, and I decided to hunt for houses. After some grueling house hunting, we finally found a place. And my friends remarked “This is going to be our new home”.
I didn’t use that phrase at the time. I was wracked with guilt for wanting to create my own home, separately from my family. I felt like I was running away from my duties. Even as I signed the lease, it felt weird.
But, deep down - I knew it was the right thing to do.
A year later, my friends proved to be right.
This is home now. It is where I found my sense of belonging again.
My longing for a home was fulfilled.
—
When does someplace become your home?
I love what Candace Rose has to say about a home:
I believe that home isn't something we change or replace with another, but something we add to. Home is the aggregate of our journeys, a collection of people and places, memories and experiences, each home building on the last.
I think it is when the walls bear witness to your tears of sadness and joy.
It is when you start forging newer relationships while deepening bonds with your existing ones. It is when you create shared memories. When you can fill the place with stories—of not just yours, but also with the people around you.
It is when you feel like the place offers a warm hug and acts as a source of comfort. It is when you can be your most awkward self freely.
It is when you can bask in the silence. Take a moment quietly for yourself.
It is when you find the rhythm of your life.
I think you can start calling a place your home when you realise that this space can contain all your fears, burdens and anxieties as well as your hopes, dreams and happiness.
You are then at home.
This is it for now.
What do you think of, when you think of a home? - Let me know !
Take care,
Nirmal Bhansali