I SAW A WALL IN MY DREAM

I had a dream today. Like most dreams, it was blurry. Usually, I don’t remember them easily. But this one stayed. And even now, as I close my eyes and think about it, it makes my heart ache.(It’s the first blog I am typing with literal tears in my eyes.)

In my dream, I saw a wall. A familiar one. One I had seen every single day growing up, but now, I barely notice. It was just a wall, yet somehow, it knew everything.

I don’t know how, but it remembered all my secrets—the silly ones, the sad ones, the ones I never said out loud. It had watched me stare at the ceiling for hours, lost in my thoughts, overthinking things that probably don’t even matter now. It had been there for the tiny fights, the loud arguments, and the long silences that followed.

And yet, it had also seen the best of us. The laughter over the smallest, silliest things. It had overheard all our relatives gossiping. It had captured us celebrating—the festivals, the birthdays, every little occasion. It had watched me and my brother fight over the TV remote and then sit together for hours, lost in episode after episode of some random series. It had seen the four of us eat together—obviously with Taarak Mehta Ka Ooltah Chashmah playing in the background… This wall knew the tightest hug that we gave and the slaps that my brother and I shared.

This wall knew everything.

It knew my brother’s habit of eating snacks before sleeping. It knew how my dad’s mood would be decided upon the current political scenario and the country’s economy.And as I was wondering how this wall knew so much, I started seeing different walls in slow motion.

Oh. These are my house walls.

It has been months since my brother and I moved out. The walls told me that my mom still checks the clock every evening, waiting. That she still makes my favorite food, even when I’m not there to eat it. The walls told me that my mom’s back pain has gotten worse. That my dad feels lonelier now. But most importantly, it reminded me how my parents are growing old...And as I listened, something inside me ached.

I woke up with a lump in my throat. And now, all I want is one evening, one meal, one moment where we are all together again. Sitting around the same table, laughing, talking, eating. And of course, Taarak Mehta Ka Ooltah Chashmah playing in the background—just like it always did.

Just like it always should.

Hey home… I miss you too.