The Comfort of Familiarity

Do you know you could miss a smell? I didn’t.
Until I entered my own home after a 15 day vacation.

So, I was on a vacation for the past 15 days. I got to do so many things most people could only dream of. I went river rafting on Sutlej, dipped my toes on Ganga, sat on the banks of Bhahirathi, went boating, visited Tajmahal, visited the war place of Kurukshetra, went to the top most point in Rothang pass, played with snow on the Himalayas and did so much more. I was so happy and contended at the end of the trip. I thought nothing could trump the happiness that I felt at that moment. Until I came home.


A picture of the peaks of Himalayan Range that I took on my phone- Rothang Pass
I found that there was some thing more precious waiting for me. Comfort.

Don’t get me wrong. I stayed in so many wonderful places with great views and comfiest beds possible. I thought there was no bed more comfortable than that. I was wrong.

I realized that comfort and luxury are two different things, when I ate my mom’s humble yet delicious Sambar rice. And for me comfort lies in the familiarity of my own bed with frayed sheets that has ink marks on them, than the bed made of clouds on some 4 star hotel. There is no logical explanation for it. It is just the way it is.

I am so grateful for all the delicious Parathas that I ate and the masala Chais that I drank but, nothing could trump my mom’s Filter coffee.

It is not like I missed my home when I was on tour. I didn’t. Or I didn’t realize it. But when I came home after a crappy flight, on to the hot and sultry roads of Chennai packed with traffic, I felt AT home. Until I smelled the familiar smell of my home. Until I drank the first sip of coffee after 15 days. Until I lay in my bed with nothing to do and no schedule ahead. I don’t know if I am doing a good job of explaining that feeling.

I thought about how we take the things we have granted in the throes of daily commotion. I guess with some time apart, there comes a keener appreciation for the gestures of comfort and familiarity. I think this realization came a good time, now that I am moving away from home.

But anyways, for me, always, the feeling of home is where my mom’s filter coffee is!

Cheers! *Rises Kappi Tumber*

P.S: I don’t how I am going to rub off my mom’s smug smile, after she is done reading this one. :\


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