So the point of all this?
Yes, I am coming to it.
I have a beautiful home. Every part of it dear to me. I spend my time looking after it, sometimes I ignore it too. But its times like this when I realize how important a home to me. I sit on my jhoola and stare outside from the balcony, the water dripping down the trees and I waive at the people who are running away from the harsh droplets of rain. They all just want to get home.
I open my book and peek into it, the rain making a happy sound behind me. I wish I had a cup of tea in my hands now as I say this but alas I just sit and stare at the water outside, feeling safe in my own little haven I have made for myself.