This is a piece I wrote almost 4 years ago. Still remains published on my old blog – https://kinblog95.wordpress.com/2017/04/09/sweet-nothings/. I might not use the same language that I used here now but my feelings remain the same. Thought I’ll repost it here just because it’s so close to my heart. Might seem a little naïve assuming I was a kid when I wrote it, but still worth a read. Here it goes..
I miss my old house. A two bedroom flat with a drawing room, dining room, and kitchen. It was big enough to fit a family of four. I miss the way all four of us used to plunge into just one bed and watch TV for hours together. How we never used to utilize the dining table and instead, sit on the floor in front of the TV while having dinner. How I used to sprint back and forth from one bedroom to another every half an hour to trouble my brother. I was such a pain in his ass. After all, preparing for AIPMT was not a piece of cake. I miss how my brother and I used to fight for the TV remote when our parents were not at home. How he used to come almost an hour later to apologize. I miss how all my siblings and I used to play foot squash, basketball, cricket, and football every evening and how we used to get scolding from our grandmother for making too much noise.
I miss how sometimes my dad and I used to cook in the kitchen when my mom was busy at the hospital and how we presented our food proudly to her afterward. I miss how my dad would piggyback me in the morning so that I would wake up and then we would pretend to sell sugar bags while roaming all around the house, negotiating prices with every customer we would see (obviously the only customers were my mom and my brother :p). I miss how excited I would get to clean the house the day the maid would not turn up and then wait for my mom to praise me for the wonderful job I had done.But now, everything has changed. Our lives have expanded and so has our dwelling. I grew up moved out for college and so did my brother. The longest my brother and I have shared our new house at a stretch are maybe 10 days. They say small homes build tight memories. These sweet nothings (I have a different meaning for “sweet nothings ” in this blog which I know you have figured out till now) have shaped who I am today, they are the foundation of my being. They are embedded deep in my heart and they are what I live for. I am grateful I spent my childhood in my little home sweet home.
Love grows best in houses, with fewer walls to separate. Where you eat and sleep so close together, you can’t help but communicate. If we had more room between us, think of all we’d miss. Love grows best in houses just like this. It’s funny how memories made in small rooms take up the most room in your heart.