The Room

Having a nomad of a family has its perks. I learnt early on that nothing is permanent and that while change can be heartbreaking, the pain too isn’t permanent. I also had to accept that unlike for most ‘home’ was never a permanent place. I have moved so many times that I have stopped making an effort to try and personalise my room. My current room back home has nothing save a bed and a cupboard filled with my clothes. Apart from Mr.X, my teddy bear who is pretty much the only thing I have from my childhood, there is no trace of anything that makes that room mine. Its probably that lack of something concrete to call my space that has made me spend hours imagining what my perfect room would be like.

I always imagined a house by the beach. A small one storey house tucked away from the noise of the world. My room, I always pictured, would be cosy- small enough to feel comforted and serene, but big enough to fit a big screen TV and a bean bag. There would be a table in the corner with all my art supplies strewn about in an orderly manner. There would be a wall filled with pictures and tokens from some of the happiest days of my life. But the best part of the room would be the view. There would be a window sill where I could sit with a book, mug of coffee and maybe some green. There would be cool breeze softly caressing my skin. I could look out and feel the river calling out to me and I could strech my fingers and feel the moisture and taste the water on my lips. I could sit there for hours together and watch the sun retreat and give way to the moon. I would watch as the sky was slowly lit by a hundred thousand bright stars and all of it being illuminated by the milky moonshine. I would look out and see the river dancing with the moon, swallowing it and releasing it, only to tango again.

What I never thought is that I would travel 1599 kilometres to see that dream come to life. There are lot of things you imagine in your life, but somehow when it becomes a reality words fail you. Pictures may speak a thousand words, but the thousands you clicked on your phone seem to not do justice to what your eyes can witness. The words that seem to flow from your soul when ranting about something frivolous will seem stuck in some other world.

Here I am, sitting at the window will, watching the moon and river romance each other and the sky shine brighter than all the fairy lights in the world and I don’t have enough words to immortalise this moment.

So, I am putting my phone down and going back to the view- the one I dreamt of for all these years.

This is me. Happy and quirky as ever.

Ciao

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