I’ve been living in a temporary home ever since I left my own home; first time when I went out for learning then afterwards whenever I moved to different jobs in different countries. I always knew that those were my temporary homes and one day I’ll go back to my own home. I never collected more than bare essential stuff in those temporary homes, and was never hesitant of leaving away the little I collected when moving to the next temporary home. I often missed my own home when in a land so foreign.
I still live in a temporary home, but I am closer to my own home than I was before and slowly moving towards it. Often the lyrics of American country artist Carrie Underwood’s “Temporary Home” come to my mind:
…This is my temporary home
It’s not where I belong.
Windows and rooms that I’m passin’ through.
This is just a stop, on the way to where I’m going.
I’m not afraid because I know this is my