Thursday, March 5, 2015

What makes a house a home?

A home filled with love

Home is the place, which has love oozing out of every atom of it. Every brick has been laid with love and every furniture selected with care. The house becomes a living entity when a family moves in. An unused corner suddenly becomes the play area of a kid, the kitchen starts to smell heavenly and the rooms begin to record memories of togetherness, of love, of happiness.

For the first twenty-five years of my life, my home was the place where I was born. It held memories of a little girl, pampered a lot by her father and one, who ruled over the entire house with her own set of rules. I had absolute freedom in what I wanted to do. I could ignore cleaning my room and eventually my mother or some other person would clean it. Nobody questioned my freedom and there was no need to prove myself before anyone. My mother taught me the nuances of housekeeping and cooking. I did them only when I felt like helping her or when I wanted to try something new. We had a maid and so I could laze around the whole day doing absolutely nothing other than eating or reading books.

Things changed when I got married. At my husband’s house, everything was different. Like all new brides, I had no clue how to go about my day. While we used to sleep at my house at around midnight and get up late in the morning, at my husband’s house ‘early to bed and early to rise’ was the norm. I had to get up before the sun rose and had to help my mother-in-law in the household work. I had to fight with myself to adjust. It was very hard for me to undergo the change. But my husband helped me at every turn and encouraged me. Within a month, I adapted to the new routine and my parents were delighted at my change.

Then came another twist in the tale. My husband joined for work in the UAE and we set up a home together for the first time. This time the change was harder. I was completely in charge of my home. I didn’t have a mother-in-law or mother to advise me as to what I had to do to maintain my home. Telephone calls were expensive and hence I depended on my kind neighbours for guidance. I too joined work but miraculously I managed household and work without any issues.

Change again came with the birth of my son. We shifted to Bangalore when he was just a year old. This time, I had a toddler, a very active one at that, to manage and my household duties as well. My son gave me sleepless nights, loads of dirty clothes and a chaotic house. I was still happy and content. Every day brought new cheers. Every moment was a revelation. My new home became my entire world and this home bonded the three of us together. A house again became a home, where love and happiness was cherished like fresh air.

When love exists, every change is a happy twist in the tale. 

This post has been written for #lookup campaign by


  1. One of the things I hate is change of residence. I have been lucky enough to stay in the same staff quarters for a decade and a half. But your post encourages me to think that change won't be a bad idea :)

  2. When love exists, every change is a happy twist in the tale Tomichan Mathiekal. :)

  3. So true that when love is there change seems enjoyable.. You are a good woman, Preethi.. I have seen very less so-called-modern women adapting to in-laws routine lovingly.. Mostly these days feel exploited even if they have to prepare tea for their in-laws.. Its very sad state these days..

    Soulful : God is a Trickster

  4. I have lived throughout in a rented for me family is my home, your post brought back some memories