"People go from house to house drying their throats. How much more does a house give shelter to people, unless the house is theirs!" - Shirshendu Mukhepadhyay.
I learned to understand the difference between house and house in a slightly different way when I first started living away from home. Before It seems to be home where Raj returns from school. The house is a room in the house where I have a reading table. I have a bed to sleep on. Gaeta is a world where silence can be made in the mind without the knowledge of the house and everyone.
My hostel life started when I was admitted to class three in St. Joseph's School. Then I left the chair and table in my room where I was lying on the bed, with books, clothes, and a lonely cry for Bubu ... everything that was lost, lost and changed. Then I understood that the house belongs to everyone, and the house belongs only to me.
I was admitted in the seventh grade in the cadet college. I read in class seven of the school but I am a student of college! There was no house and no house - there was only a fence of strict rules! Discipline in reading, discipline in eating, discipline in sports and even discipline in sleeping. Left Right Left .... Left Right Left ... PT, Class, Assembly, Reading, Game, Dining, Prayer, Sleeping Different dresses for everything. Bedrooms, bathrooms, playground corners, nothing is mine, all ours. Everywhere you look today, the tide of protectionist sentiment is flowing. But nothing seems to be his own.
University life is completely open - "I can't get lost anywhere"! But life is mine, I have to choose between good and evil. There is no guardian here, work life at the end of university life under one's own guardianship. In the continuity of the success of the professional life is a home of its own. Leaving the ancestral home to his own home ...
Everything is new.
Own family
Only I am old.
The flat house collapsed again. People from different districts in the same building - everyone owns. No one is in jail, but everyone! A new cosmopolitan life in the world of one's own world within the closed door of one's own.
A lot of time has passed.
Everything has changed. My house, my house has changed ....
Summary: Nothing in the corner is mine .... Nothing in this life is my own, no one is in the car. Just your own.
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