A house, technically, is nothing but a structure made of bricks, cement, wood, glass, and steel. However, it is the beginning and the end of one's world. It is the only place that is truly ours. Some houses see generations living and breathing in them. We remember homes by not how many square feet it has but, by the memories we made in it. The room where you grew up with your sibling, the kitchen where mom made your favourite dishes, the living room where you fought for the remote for the TV, the veranda where you rode your bicycle, the dining table where dad fed you green vegetables even if you hated their sight; these are memories which transform a house into a home.
I have lived in six houses so far, but the one house in which I spent my childhood remains the closest to me heart. I lived there from the time I was in the kindergarten to till the time I reached 7th grade. It was a fairly big house; the construction was like that of old houses. It had a big yard in the front and back, but the rooms were small. I used to ride my bicycle from the front yard to the back one while my brother sat in the backseat. We didn't have any park nearby, I played in only. Birds were rare and Trees were few. Some of my neighbourhood friends would come over in the evening to play and we had a lot of fun. My mother planted a lot of potted plants to make it look like a park. In the evening, when my dad came home, it would be my duty to open the gate for him so he could bring the car in. Every Independence day, I would go to the top to collect all the fallen kites which I later gave to my some of the older boys in the neighbourhood, as I didn't know how to fly one(still don't). Everyone knew me there, from the nearby pharmacist to the beautician across the street, they welcomed me to their houses and on every festival I got sweets. Most of them didn't have much money, but they had big hearts. It was my paradise and I loved it.
Eventually, we shifted to a new place. I finally got the park and the trees I wanted, but no one to enjoy them with. All the kids here were either too old or too young. My brother found friends of his own age and I was left on my own. Here I get to see a lot many birds, peacocks, squirrels, parrots, and eagles, but I lost my people. This is a much more opulent area, but people are covetous. They don't want to be better; they want to be better than the next person. Although, they have big houses and fancy cars, but they have small, shallow hearts. I don't hate rich people and I don't want anything from them, but I do feel sad that they are missing out. And I would be exaggerating if I said everyone is like this but many are. They lack the warmth, I barely know anyone here.
So, this is for you my dear house, even though it has been thirteen years since I last saw you, I still love you and will do so till my last breath. You will always be my home and I thank you for all that you gave me.