My house is the best place in this whole big world! The fact that it is mine, itself makes it the dearest to me. Just the thought of my house gives a snug, comforting feeling to my mind and heart.
I stay in a hostel as I am studying abroad. I have been away from my house for years now. Whenever I feel homesick, I start exploring my house in my imagination. I open the door and I see a big hall. A table with flowers upon it. A big, luxurious Television. Orange curtains covering the windows. A fluorescent light illuminating the hall. Then, I enter into the kitchen. I see a big platform, fraught with cutlery. I see my favourite section, filled with biscuits and chocolates. I see the refrigerator with all the notes and lame jokes stuck on it.
Then I move towards the favourite part of my house. My room. I open the door and move inside. I see a big, king size bed on which I roll all night during my sleep. I see a study table which I seldom use. I see a bookshelf with all the latest novels, rather than my coursebooks. I see my cupboard. And, when I open the cupboard, I see all the clothes falling down as I had stuffed them in, rather than compiling them in a systematic way. And, the favourite corner of my room. The one with the charging slot. I imagine myself sitting there with my phone for long hours. It is always soothing to imagine about my house whenever I feel homesick. My house is my palace. I feel like a king in my house. I can do anything in my house.
My house has seen every one of my ups and downs. It has seen my happy and sad times. I have always celebrated all my birthdays and feats in my house. And I remember, whenever I used to fail in something or felt sad, I used to hide myself in a corner and cry. My house is my greatest companion.
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