I come from a joint family, though the kitchens are different, no distance is heart. We have this tradition of eating together on birthdays, anniversaries and festivals. All sitting together, on the floor, giggling and eating. On such occasions we eat on a single plate (not a compulsion, it is rather fun). Moving out of home, recently, I miss this so much. So now, my husband and I eat together, always. And I’m adamant on keeping this tradition of my father’s family.
On this note, read this piece of mine :))
The walls that embrace me,
keep the shadows at bay;
Nothing grand about it,
but it is a place, where,
I enjoyed playing in clay.
Sun-kissed veranda,
red roses blooming all year long;
Each creak tells its own tale,
a world, keeping everyone strong.
The worn out armchair-
a playground for tiny feet;
A game,
where it was allowed to cheat.
For Home is not just a place.
A home is not brick or stone,
It is a sanctuary,
a shelter from the outside world.
A timeless heaven,
source of light,
sometimes, the whole Sun.
~Kajal, An Ode to Home
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