Recently I read a book titled The Dutch House. I loved it! It reminded me of how important a house’s role and memories play in one’s life. Whenever I shifted, it felt like leaving behind a piece of me or a box of my memories. It is a strange feeling, maybe because the happier the memories, the stronger the nostalgia!
The Dutch House just made me realize how a house is always in the background in some of our most cherished or worst memories. And then it got me thinking of all the fond memories that I have in different houses I have lived in and how they have made my life happier bit by bit. 🙂
The novel revolves around this house that once belonged to a Dutch family, but reading through it reminded me of my childhood home and brought back the vivid memories of this beautiful one-bedroom house in which we used to live. It had a big verandah in the front and a big backyard. I have fond memories of that house from my growing up years there. Times changed, and we demolished the house to make a new one in its place. In my heart, I guess I metaphorically hugged the old house a few times before bidding it goodbye!
I also remember the good moments in the new house, but I do not remember ever feeling like hugging the new one. That’s the difference!
I currently love where I live, but I often think of the old rented house I moved in when I shifted to Bangalore and the beautiful memories I have from the time. However, if my current abode were a person, it and I would have been best friends! 🙂
Are your memories also associated with the houses where you have lived? Do share your thoughts.