Naanka Vhera: There are certain places that are not only there in our recollections, but also weave themselves into the very fabric of our existence. One such location was Naanka Vhera, which was the residence of my maternal grandparents. It was more than just a house; it was the centre of my childhood, a universe in which warmth was not measured in terms of money but rather in the hands that kneaded dough and the voices that whispered my name. 

As one moves beyond the blue gate and into the immense shade provided by the Margosa tree, time appears to lengthen and become more kind. The walls made of mud contained the secrets of generations, conveying tales of tenacity and commitment. It was more than just a space; the courtyard, which was open and spacious, served as a playground, a gathering place, and a stage for the fundamental pleasures that life has to offer. It appeared as though each moment there was a thread in a tapestry that had been meticulously woven. 

A House that was Constructed on Love. Each individual thing had a significance. They were more than simply carpets; they were mementos of laughter-filled afternoons. The colourful hand-woven durries had frayed edges that had been smoothed out by years of footfalls. I learnt the joy of creation and the necessary necessity of letting go through the process of making clay toys and clay birds, which I formed and reshaped in the midst of my ordinary life events. Bapuji sat on his charpoy, a towering presence that was silent, and his cup of chai was steaming like the heart of the home itself. His stillness communicated intelligence, but Maami’s bustling warmth encircled all of us in a secure and comforting embrace. There were many notes in the symphony of home, including the soft blinking of the cow, the rhythmic ringing of its bell, and the comforting perfume of makki di roti as it was cooking on the stove. 

How to Learn About Belonging The concept of Naanka Vhera was never about grandiosity; rather, it was about being grounded. It taught me that the love that is contained within a house is what best defines it, not the size of the building itself. The experience taught me that some of the most significant assets may be discovered in the most ordinary of times, such as eating warm roti by the fire, snatching raw mangoes against the warnings of older people, and experiencing the weight of family history in the everyday aspects of life. Life has taken me a long way away from that blue gate, yet the roots that have been planted there cannot be undone by distance. 

Every time I went there, it was like going back to a part of myself that had been moulded by the resiliency, compassion, and quiet strength that lived behind those thick walls. Some locations will never leave you behind. The way you breathe, the words you say, the way your hands move when you cook, and the way your heart swells at the thought of a childhood spent in their embrace are all manifestations of their presence in your present. I consider Naanka Vhera to be that place; it is a realm that is woven into my spirit and a story that never comes to a conclusion.