“Welcome Home!” Rati stood with a balloon in hand greeting her husband into the house. Kamal always broke into a laugh watching her be a kid. He joined in. “Happy to see you too”, pulling the balloon to his hand. Then they hugged and laughed some more.

Twenty five years ago, Kamal got himself a balloon packet from the toy store on the street corner. He was heading  home from school. The balloon needed to be inflated. He was really bad at such things. He planned to ask his sister to help with his. After reaching home, he kicked his shoes to one side and threw his bag aside. He couldn’t wait to open the packet of balloons.

Kamal walked into the kitchen with the packet and cut it open with a scissor. One by one he took out a few balloons and started working on the first one to inflate it. One big puff of air inhaled, he blew into the first balloon. It did not work. He gave another try. Nothing again. He gave up already. Deciding to wait for his sister, he went ahead to serve himself a meal. His sister and mother shall be home anytime.

Kamal’s mother always left the day’s food fully prepared on the kitchen slab. She came home from office after Kamal and his sister came from school. His dad came back from office much later. Tired from the day, they all ate separately and did their own thing. Watched TV for sometime and went to bed. Usually, the kids before the parents because the mother was strict about their homework and bed time.

Kamal heard the door open. Kalavathi, his sister walked in straight from her junior college. Kala was taller than him and elder to him by over 7 years. She had neatly platted her hair with two ribbons and was wearing a confident smile of a first bencher. Her smile was washed out when she saw Kamal running straight to her with the balloons.

“Not today, Kamal. I have too much homework to do. Not this again.” And Kamal’s head hung low as he wished he could find words to convince her. But his stammering would usually increase when he was in a disagreement. There is no point, he told himself. There was a better chance of his mother to help him. So, he waited some more. As expected, in another hour his mother was home and was inflating the balloons with him.

They had all the balloons inflated before dad got home. Kamal stood with a bunch of balloons in hand to show to his dad once he reached. Sometime later, his dad got in, looked at him with the balloons. And then walked straight ahead for dinner.

“Do you see these, dad? How colorful!”

“Did you do your homework?”

“Not yet, but…”

“I keep telling her not to spoil you like this. But who listens to me anyways.”

“I will do it now dad. Mom had nothing to do with..”

“Take these off my face. Look at what you have done to this room. Clean up.”

Kamal gathered the broken balloons and plastic cover that had spread across the room. He went inside and told his mom, I don’t feel like this is my home. She said, “Home is a set of memories that can’t be confined to any map. It cannot be a fixed place or even a fixed person. You need to start loving what you have, beta. You will understand some day.”

“What are you thinking about? Baby?” Rati asked Kamal. He came out of his memories and looked at her. Kamal was walking home today, feeling homesick. He had left his country to work abroad. He and Rati loved their new life. But sometimes it felt like they were alone in an ocean of foreigners. Did they really belong here? Was this home?

“Are you ok? What are you thinking, baby?” Rati poked him. Kamal replied, “Nothing baby, I am just happy to be home.”