Few of the photos I took when we visited my parents’ home back in 2008. A Red Hibiscus, with a hint of bokeh. Bougainvillea in full bloom. Euphorbia. In my father’s garden.
It felt so good to come back to the place I first called ‘home’ . Memories from a not so distant childhood came rushing all at once, like an engulfing wave, like heady wine. Certainly there were changes: A furniture that wasn’t there anymore. A new painting on the wall. Parents getting older. It wasn’t what is used to be. But still, it felt warm and familiar. Like love.
No matter how far you might have come in terms of successes, people and friends you came to know, the many places you called home, the love of parents will always remain the constant thing that will anchor you back to who you really are.
Home is Where the Heart is 