Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Tinkon Ka bas Ek Aashiyan.

Back to where I belong.
No matter how much u deny, after 10 years of imprisonment, the inmate feels cozy and home-like in his cell only.
My little world.

The unwashed Number bearing t-shirt wearing teddy, the green hatted big-assed daughter doll, a few dust-bearing 'statement' posters in which i don't believe in anymore.

Life is same.
But do i even want a change?
What change if at all?

The room at least gives me 'My home' sort of feel.
May be i will barter with a nuanced and advanced version of my home.
A real home. A house i would own.
(I am fully aware of the difference between home and house, but i m letting myself use them interchangeably. May be coz they are in fact interchangeable in certain cases!)

I have tried reading Naipaul's A House For Mr. Biswas.
Couldn't complete.
The beginning though never fails to impress me.
I too want my house, not nominal like a hostel room.
But my own house.

This urge of private property nevertheless appears to me inexplicable at times.
Why isn't my parent's house mine or for that matter my prospective husband's house?

I had argued with him at this, when he asked me why would i need a house. I could stay with my husband and it was foolish and opportunistically escapist for a girl to have her own house!

Outrageous? Or do u believe in this as well?

I really don't have an answer why i want a house.
I know i would not stay there. I would not rent it out of possessiveness.
Then why exactly do i want a space of my own?

I guess its more like the feeling when u don't erase with the eraser behind ur pencil lest it finishes!
Its like, preserving the chocolate in the refrigerator till it rots. Or till some cold-immune strong bacteria eats it away.

I want my house. I want it if not for myself, not for anyone else too.
If I can't stay there, no one else can.
I want to have the feeling of owning a piece of earth.
Not treat it as a threat-device: Main apne ghar chali jaungi tum dekhte raiyyo!

But the silent joy of being a house-owner.
I told u before, and the feeling is still inexplicable.

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