Wanderlust: The hidden "price tag": Unsaid terms and conditions

             I try hard to remember the last time I was home, in true sense. I'm sure I felt very safe. One thing I remember about being home was comfort, the fact that all my wishes were fulfilled, everything that I needed was taken care of; without me having to say anything.

My home, my mom's womb.
             Then, that was the only home I knew, where I thought I'd stay forever. And after what seemed like forever, I wasn't home anymore; right when I started to get comfortable, I had to leave.  I was in a completely new place I didn't know where I was but for some reason, I was familiar with the place and I recognized the faces around me. However, the fact that I wasn't home was making me restless. The only comforting thought was that I was around my home (or my home was always around me). But then my home kept moving and sometimes I couldn't find her. So I started to crawl in search of her and when I realized that crawling was taking me too long, I figured I should walk.
             When I was home, I never thought I'd have to crawl and walk. It was not at all easy. My first attempt at standing, almost seemed impossible. I fell flat on my face. It took me several attempts to get myself to stand and a lot more strength to take a step forward.The effort, the pain and struggle: ALL this, to reach home, to feel protected and safe.

              As I grew up, my definition of "home" changed; it became this combination of numbers and letters. So every new city we moved to, we had a new home, four new walls and a new roof. That's what home meant, Until we stayed there for few years at a stretch, The house that we stayed in then, was where I grew up. It was more than just 4 walls and a roof. It had innumerable memories accumulated from all those years. I then realized that it was not those walls that made a home, it's my family, They were home. I had developed a strong attachment to the place. I had gotten comfortable there, just like I was in my mum's womb. And I had to leave again, just like I had to then. Only this time, it was a conscious decision.

               I had a plan weaved in my head and I wanted to set it in action, for which I had to leave home. This was the first time I was walking away from home and not towards it. It felt just like the first time I tried to walk, painful. Only this time, I needed a lot more strength to walk. 'Cause I wasn't just walking, I was walking away. Any which ways, I had to do what I had decided for myself. So, I left. Days and months passed, a few days never ended while a few days passed in a jiffy. During the course to time, my plans had changed and so did I. I crawled and walked and fell and stood back up. There were times, when I'd just drag myself through it. I don't deny having several wonderful moments. Meeting new people, having the privilege to travel around the world, taking risks, succeeding and failing.I'd laugh till my eyes got all teary and at times, I'd lock myself up in a room and cry my eyes out while looking into the mirror till I just laugh at how things are going wrong. I feel I've seen so much and learnt so much in all this time away from home.

                Amidst all this, very often, an annoying question would pop up in my head: 

"Why did you leave home?" 

and though I had an answer that convinced my head, my heart never stopped asking. So I always diverted my heart's focus and built little traps here and there that it would conveniently fall into. Until one day when I ran out of answers and traps. What do you do when you have no answer to a question? You stand there clueless, in the middle off no where, just staring into nothing with both your feet in abyss while your brain acts as a black hole that absorbs almost everything but processes nothing. When you don't know where you belong anymore. Reality hits you,

             You know what you want but you're not convinced if that's what you need. When you fool yourself and create an illusion that it's for the best that you're doing whatever you've decided but then someone bursts your bubble. Now when the bubble you were living in isn't there anymore, you suddenly are exposed to all your demons. The protective shield is now gone and you don't know where to hide. You wander in search of it and find so many fascinating bubbles that invite you. You enter each bubble hoping to seek solitude and peace. And each time, the bubble bursts.
              You then reach a point when you want to go back. Back to where you started, back to where the journey began, back home. But soon you realize that the place you once called home, has gotten used to your absence. And your home doesn't necessarily need you, though you need it more than anything. And thus your destiny is decided. You were destined to wander. And that a HOME isn't necessarily a part of your story. That's the price you pay for your wanderlust, you will never be completely at home again. You have to wander. Forever.