A half broken tiara belonging to a 16year old.
An intermix of that 16 year old's collection in a rack full of books with dust settled on them, some with yellowed out pages, some with the bind still waiting to be cracked open.
The sound of my mother humming out in the open balcony as she ponders over everything under the Sun, from my sister's impending "rishtas" to my "what is life" phase to even world politics! So, she hums away, one minute she's off tune and the next she's Lata Mangeshkar in the household.
Lata Didi's best sitting with Aasha Tai, Euphoria, Abba, Frank Sinatra and even Metallica, brought together only in the most unlikely of music collections.
A collection of photo albums with pictures ranging from my phase with the fringes to back when I dragged my teddy bear along everywhere I went.
A teddy bear with a small chunk of its arm chewed out by my dog.
My dog's old collar sitting on the central shelf with show pieces, certainly being our most loved one. His hair settled on each suede coat in the house even after years of him leaving us.
The ruckus of my dad, the TV and Arnab Goswami in a heated argument promptly at 9p.m., even as dad's dressed in his coat and all set to step out.
The television set that works only after receiving a pat on its head.
The commencement of commotion as my sister and I bump heads over the slightest of things, over arguments of which no one can keep count until we're busy talking about something ridiculous and the argument's all but forgotten about.
Forgotten hardly ever are any of the above listed things. Each resulting in inside jokes and personal lingo that only us 4 will understand; each tugging at a memory I know more from heart than from mind. Things I'd like to keep stored in an old cassette to push pause, play, rewind.
If I were to make that casette I'd probably title it "home". These memories, these everyday happenings and even the box of worn out materialistic things, each representing a bit of what I call home. Something to turn to for help, for support or even simply for familiar comfort.
Comforted at the thought of being home. Oh it feels good to be home.