My Dearest Home

My Home was conceived a year before my birth and she was born a year after mine. 

I woke up today with a sound of breaking. The table where I had placed my printer broke. The table was as old as my home. 

Last week, the mirror that was hung on the walls of my home over the wash basin fell off. The mirror was as old as my home.

since months the paint on the walls of my home are peeling off, slowly, in instalments , like my grandmother's teeth. 

My home is aging.

She is growing old. I am so used to her giving me all the comfort, it comes as shock that it is now my time to revert back. 

I have always believed there are two kinds of relationships. One that works on a daily basis, where every communication is necessarily un-necessary. One where you grow together and do not notice the change and the other is Occasional, where the relationship is constant unlike communication. Here you notice change. We share the first one with our Homes. 

My Home was changing all these while and forgot to notice them.