Home Sweet Home

Home Sweet Home

Sounds cliché, right?

But there’s no greater blessing than this. The comfort of home. The little chores around the house. Cleaning it, decorating it, making things with your own hands... Adding your personal touch... Creating a safe space.

Back in school, we used to write essays like:

"My Home"

We’d describe how many rooms it had, mention the kitchen, the washroom, and, in the end, draw a box-like sketch. That sketch always had four windows, one door, and a chimney—no exceptions!

Ah, childhood... What days those were!

Anyway, that’s the kind of home we used to draw.

How wonderful it felt to fill that house with colors, with smoke coming out of the chimney, and the warmth of a red-painted door welcoming you in. The joy of seeing it all come to life, just like the five-liner essay we wrote in school, filled only with innocence and dreams of a perfect home. There was magic in the simplicity of those moments, the joy of imagining a world made better by small touches, by a coat of paint or the flicker of a flame. Each detail felt like a promise, a promise that this space, this house, would always hold a piece of our hearts, just as those memories still live on in the words we wrote.

It’s beautiful how those childhood memories still linger, isn't it? The innocence of those simple, heartfelt words, the joy of creating a little world. As time passes, we realize how deeply home is etched in our hearts, beyond just a place to live — it’s a sanctuary, a feeling of belonging and peace. The joy of returning home, no matter where you are, and finding comfort in the simplest moments, like a cup of tea, is unmatched. There truly is no place like home.

What am I saying? It sounds chaotic, my thoughts wandering in all directions. Alright, I admit it: right now, there’s no connection in my writing, just a feeling that I might fall short of expressing through words on this page. I love my home deeply. And I find myself growing distant from people. I tire of them so quickly. The peace I discover within the four walls of this house is unlike anything I could ever find in any corner of the world...

These small tasks, like getting my brass lamps buffed, not only because I can't afford new ones but also because the process of restoring them brings a sense of satisfaction, make all the difference. Each polished curve shines a little brighter, reminding me that even what’s worn can be revived.

I painted our decorative cages in bronze, giving them a makeover, a new purpose, as if to say that even the most overlooked things can be made beautiful.

In the middle of our garden, we built a bonfire pit using scraps of tough tiles. It wasn’t about achieving perfection, but rather about making something that felt right. We then used the grass from the pit to cover the barren patches in the garden, slowly bringing the earth back to life.

These small acts of care and creativity, working with what I have, bring me a peace I could not find anywhere else. I need nothing more. The simple act of making, fixing, and restoring within my home fulfills me in ways that material things never could. In short, no grand gestures or expensive things are needed. It is the love and the labor that make this place truly mine. Or to put it aptly: Home Sweet Home.