Santhosh's ramblings

This  blog may be confusingly complicated. If, by the end of it, you are wondering what exactly I was trying to say, then I have successfully achieved  my objective ! We are on our way home after spending two weeks at a campus and community where we spent nearly a third of our working lives. It was our first extended stay there in more than six years. What surprised us was how quickly we felt  unconsciously comfortable . We were staying in guest rooms, following someone else's schedule, and being kept pleasantly busy. In theory, we should have felt a little out of place. Instead, it felt oddly like slipping into an old, well-worn pair of sandals. I found myself wondering:  What makes a place feel like home even when it's no longer home? I think the answer lies in the people. This is not an easy place. It is demanding work in a complex corner of North Bihar. Yet we met young families in the middle of raising children, seasoned workers nearing retirement, and man...

We now live in a house that once belonged to my parents and that we have since inherited. Two decades ago, every house in our colony was occupied. In our lane of 11 houses, only four are occupied today. The rest stand empty, waiting for demolition or renovation. In one sense, the houses are still there, but the homes have disappeared. And yet, quite a bit of construction continues around us—high-rises and flats coming up everywhere, as if the buildings had secretly decided to multiply. Of course there is huge money behind it too.  Three decades ago, there were no high-rises in our town. Today, even in our sleepy small town, there are many. Within a one-kilometre radius of our house, I counted about seven. The nearest one has 16 floors and 64 flats, but at night I can see only about 10 lights on, which suggests that only around 10 are occupied.   So the issue is this: we seem to have more houses, but fewer homes. Houses are buildings. Homes are where people live with care, sa...