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The Painted House

For most of us the idea of ‘home’ is relief.Every mind has its own picture of incoherencies when one is

away from the unrealized warmth of home.Sometimes it is the return to ones roots of upbringing,sometimes it is the shunning of one’s persona and expressing oneself; and even sometimes it is the longingness to have a homely cup of tea.the idea of home is myriad…

I was surprised to find that Mr. R’s( with whom I have little acquaintance) belonging to home was in a combination of colours he chose for his new house.

A neat pattern of red and white.After a tiring journey I stopped to examine the little plot of the painted house and it was then I noticed he gave the two-storeyed house a red hue with white borders.

One out of the limited information I have about this man is that years back he built a beautiful house,painted it red and lived there with his family.today, for reasons I do not know, he never lives in the years-back-built-red-house. I learned that his new dwelling was the two-storied house I happened to stop by on my lazy drive.I wondered who were his companions there?when I met him there at the courtyard torrents of questions about the painted house and the living there started to gush out.Out of my reluctance to start up a conversation to this reserved man and the calm assurance that I already have a beautiful conclusion about my doubts made me to swallow up all those inquisitiveness.

Perhaps he could transcend the feeling of

loneliness when he blends his faded past in the colours of red and white… 🙂

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