Enter the sub-continent of Asia, India. Moving down south to the state of Karnataka, famous for the Sandalwood trees, lies a City known as Bangalore. After entering the city, moving from the Hindustan Aeronautical Limited, lies a locality called Golden Enclave. My house is on the 4th floor of the first building that you come across as you enter the locality. Like every other international student attending university, I am home for only about 2 months in a year. That being said, I still remember every inch of home since the day we moved in.
My every day starts with my mother attempting to wake me up from blissful sleep. I would do my best to pretend to be fast asleep, reminiscing my days as a child. This has seldom worked but we both are used to how our days begin.
After successfully waking up I would first try to accomplish the herculean task of getting freshened up which would leave me without energy as I made my way down to the kitchen like a zombie that craves food rather than brains.
Walking down the steps, I would bid my father farewell as he would look at me and nod as he left for the office in a rush. He has always been the busy person who is never in the house but makes time for us nonetheless. Breakfast always involved my mother waiting to receive me before she started eating, no matter how late it always used to get.
The breakfast would often change, but few dishes held dominance that always bring about memories of being home. Waking up here in comparison has been difficult. The constant feeling of being home was always something I took for granted. Little things like these make me realize that this is the place that I can call home and no other. My mother waiting for me to eat with me and always having the widest and most pure smile to greet me at the table to eat with me and inquire what my plans is for the day.