This blog post idea was marinating in my mind for quite a long time. And I am so glad that I’m finally writing this.
Home is not just a place, it is an emotion. Home is where we grow up. Home is where we find comfort. Home is where our heart is.
No matter how much joy we find in travelling and exploring new places, we all come back to our homes in the end.
For me, home isn’t just the house I live in. My entire city is my home.
For all those who do not know me in person, I live in Mangalore. It is a picturesque city alongside the coast of Karnataka, India.
Something that always takes my breath away about this lovely city is how gorgeous it looks, especially the aerial view. Every single time we travel by air, we see the vast greenery that adorns the outskirts of Mangalore. It feels like we are travelling over a green carpet.
Generally, Mangalore is known for its expansive beaches, temples and churches, and of course, the seafood.
This is something that can be known about the city with one Google search.
But this blog post isn’t about what Mangalore is. It is about what Mangalore means to me.
I have been born and brought up here. There isn’t a single day where I have felt that I should have been somewhere else. The entire city just makes me feel so lucky to be here.
Of course, the weather is on the humid side. But I’ve grown accustomed to it.
What makes this place have my entire heart is how simple and sweet it is.
Here is a description of the city from my eyes, the eyes of a person who loves Mangalore with all her heart and soul:
It’s early morning. I spring out of my bed and begin yet another new day. Every day I wake up to the pleasant chirping of the birds, nestled in the trees. The sun rises and gives its warmth. The golden hue it casts into my room perks me up to start my day with all the good feelings.
The day passes by and evening has arrived, and so has it marked an end to yet another day of rigorous studying. The most awaited part of the day. Tying up our shoelaces, mother and I start out for a long walk. This is our time, all ours. I find the fresh air hitting my face as we walk around the city.
I take my time to absorb the surroundings. Even though I have been living in this gorgeous city all my life, every day I revel in the beauty and glory of my hometown.
I observe the people hurrying about. Some are heading back home after calling it a day at work. Students trudge about with their backpacks. As we pass by the grocery store, I see people bargaining with the vendor and getting their money’s worth of supplies.
Buses are plying at the various bus stops and people quickly make their way to get in. At times, we even run into somebody we know, a friend, a relative. A smile, a nod, maybe a hello and some small talk and we continue with our walks.
This is the time I exchange my opinions and ideas with my mother. Sometimes we even end up discussing a possible blog post!
We explore the nooks and crannies of this city we call home. Our feet lead us to the by-lanes, where the traffic is a little scanty. Occasionally we find a gorgeous tree spreading its branches and providing us with a breath of fresh air and shade from the scorching sun.
These are simple and sweet moments of the day.
My city is nothing extra-ordinary. But it is where I find peace and comfort in.
My city does not have metros. But it is where I feel connected to the earth.
My city is like any other developing place, full of traffic and busy roads. But this is home to me.
Truly, Mangalore isn’t just my home, it is an emotion.
Until next time, stay blessed.