– Rajeev Verma
You don’t need an invitation. You don’t have to call in advance. It doesn’t matter how you look, what you wear, or what storm is raging in your heart. Because that house is always there…Its door is forever ready to open, its walls soaked with memories, and its air filled with that comforting aroma that carries you back to the safest place on earth—your childhood.
It is the only house you walk into as if you had never left. Where the food finds you before you ask for it, and if you refuse to eat, you are lovingly scolded. Where silence is never questioned, and every word you do speak is treasured like a blessing. In that home, time doesn’t move the way it does outside.
Mom still sees the little child in you, no matter your age. Dad still acts strong and stoic—but his eyes betray the tenderness he hides when he sees you at the door. And yet, one day… without warning, that home will vanish. Not because the house is sold, but because its heartbeat—your parents—will no longer be there to open the door.
When that happens, no mansion, no luxury, no success will ever feel the same. You’ll realize that home was not built of bricks and walls, but of two people who gave you unconditional love. So if you still have that blessing… cherish it. Go back while you can.Hug tighter.
Listen longer. Sit at the dinner table, not in a rush, but with gratitude. Laugh at their little stories, even if you’ve heard them a hundred times. Because those stories will echo in your heart long after their voices fade.
One day, like me, you may stand in front of a door that no longer opens, and you’ll wish for just one more moment, one more glance, one more embrace. But wishes cannot unlock the silence of absence.
So today… not tomorrow, not someday—Today. Go home. Because dad and mom’s house is not eternal. But the love you carry from it will be—if you choose to live it now.
RAJEEV VERMA 