I Am Not Homeless, But I Don't Have a Home
Home , sweet home , a reality of millions surely ,but am not among them .I lost my home in my teen , officially at 17 , from the day I left my village with a dream of my own home .What a tragedy of life , I had left one to get another , maybe I had already lost it quite before . Home is not only the name of a structure, where people use to live , it’s a feelings , an emotion , a relation ……many many things needs to buildup a real home .I started losing those from the months before , relation with family were decreasing day by day , dad had no time to judge the situation , mom were busy in her religious culture and house work in addition with abused me mercilessly time to time for very little fault , elder sister most of time stayed here in spite of her own home for the reasons of quailing with her in laws , a nasty suspicious nature always trying to vigil every act of my teen , her provocation to mom made my life as a hell there , elder brother had a seldom attraction with home and just a careless attitude , so those facts made easy and quite inevitable for ran away .
In capital we started living in a very highly congested slum , everywhere dirtiness and poverty .So he always said soon we left that one and went to a new better place , where life would be beautiful but it never happened anyway .My soul never ready to accept that caged small room with common toilet and bath place as my home .Later I was brought to Harem , the place was really a beautiful and with the facility of beyond of my imagination , but I knew from the day began that it’s a jail and am one of the prisoners there , so never buildup any homely relation with that place although few facilities were really luxury there .From there I was brought to Hong Knog and started living in a apartment with many other girls , only the place where I was fallen in love with as there we lived so many girls with almost same mind , but I knew always that it’s not my destination of living for my life .Again evacuated from the place and the continent and came to Australia , a new place with new people with new culture , my first living place here was a small shared room in a downtown colony with other two Asian girl , I seldom spoke with them , they did the same , one was a drug addict and another loudly shouted at night in dream , fighting with someone in sleep , I managed to got a small room soon in the motel I worked for , a roof top very small room once used for old furniture dumped , I decorated as per need , no window only the entrance from the front , a bed with a chair and table with an old wooden ward board with no toilet no bath , but honestly the first ever in this three years I feel it’s my home , as it’s the only place where I can do anything I wish and my co-workers , my employer all were so much helpful and loving with me , I missed them till my death , but unfortunately but that happiness only stable for two and half years and I uprooted again , moved to my present living place in last April , a house with rich people , they gave me a good living room with comfortable bed and facility of living but still it’s not my home .A lot time I dreamed for my own home and saw in my dreams at night but when I woke up am with my present only the sorrow and the tears are with me and my searching continue again as before .
In capital we started living in a very highly congested slum , everywhere dirtiness and poverty .So he always said soon we left that one and went to a new better place , where life would be beautiful but it never happened anyway .My soul never ready to accept that caged small room with common toilet and bath place as my home .Later I was brought to Harem , the place was really a beautiful and with the facility of beyond of my imagination , but I knew from the day began that it’s a jail and am one of the prisoners there , so never buildup any homely relation with that place although few facilities were really luxury there .From there I was brought to Hong Knog and started living in a apartment with many other girls , only the place where I was fallen in love with as there we lived so many girls with almost same mind , but I knew always that it’s not my destination of living for my life .Again evacuated from the place and the continent and came to Australia , a new place with new people with new culture , my first living place here was a small shared room in a downtown colony with other two Asian girl , I seldom spoke with them , they did the same , one was a drug addict and another loudly shouted at night in dream , fighting with someone in sleep , I managed to got a small room soon in the motel I worked for , a roof top very small room once used for old furniture dumped , I decorated as per need , no window only the entrance from the front , a bed with a chair and table with an old wooden ward board with no toilet no bath , but honestly the first ever in this three years I feel it’s my home , as it’s the only place where I can do anything I wish and my co-workers , my employer all were so much helpful and loving with me , I missed them till my death , but unfortunately but that happiness only stable for two and half years and I uprooted again , moved to my present living place in last April , a house with rich people , they gave me a good living room with comfortable bed and facility of living but still it’s not my home .A lot time I dreamed for my own home and saw in my dreams at night but when I woke up am with my present only the sorrow and the tears are with me and my searching continue again as before .
31-35, F
