Home..Funny little word. A familiar place with friends and family?

It’s the people around you who make home, home. So when you have people you love in a place that wasn’t home, does that make it home? (Excuse the excessive use of the word. Nothing else seems to be an appropriate replacement, because of the effusive connotations surrounding the word).

Inshallah in a few days I’ll be going back to Islamabad, still my favorite city in the whole wide world. And yet, while a few weeks ago I only thought of going back, now I think I’m actually going to miss Boston. And it’s a nostalgic, evocative, memory-filled, strange feeling. One of my friend’s said "this feeling seems to define bitter-sweet". I agree–it’s dark chocolate. I’m more than excited to see my mother, sister, father, aunts, uncles, cousins, friends, and the list goes on. At the same time, the thought of not seeing a few of my senior/ grad student friends is overwhelmingly sad.

My friends from back "home" keep asking: When are you visiting? For how long are you staying?—And words like that make me feel like only a visitor, only going for four months. Can 9 months in a place make it home too? Can your unfamiliar, tiny, shared room, be your room? Only thoughts, only thoughts =)…


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