Things I Miss (In No Particular Order)

Cooking with my mom. Eating home cooked meals, filling up to the brim with paneer, naan, kufta, kobhar anam, sambar, dosa, kobhar chutney, pachadis, gulab jamun, soampapadi, kodi goodu kura, payasum, ice cream. Washing it all down with a nap on the couch. With the TV on. Playing some quiet filling movie. Talking tech, books, movies with my dad. Having everything taken care off. Cleaners. Ice cold milk and warm chocolate chip cookies. Molten chocolate lava cake. And the white one too. Cheesecake. Chinese food. Delivered. Showering in the morning. Eating above and beyond physical limits with my sister. Baan Thai. Laughing hysterically at nothing for no reason. My sister teasing and annoying my mom because she’s bored. Annoying my dad because she’s bored. Annoying me because she’s bored. Impulsiveness. Dad eating something fatty, oily, or sweet and my mom scolding him. Coming home after being away, opening the door to the aroma of spices, music playing, voices chattering and being filled with the comfort of knowing you’re home. Endless hours to do whatever you want. Weekends. Shopping. Eating out. IM’ing while doing work, while talking on the phone, watching TV and eating…all at the same time. AC. Bathrooms. Hot morning showers. Absence of dust. Sinks. Giant mirrors. Walking around barefoot. My bed. Laundry machines. Wing nights with Fang. Blue Moon and orange slices. Disoriented Rock Band. Making fun of some new ridiculously skinny jeans that Jeff bought. Harvard Gardens. Red Hat. Sushi. Fang moaning after the first bite of sushi. Doon asking if his shirt made him look jacked. Acapulco’s with Raj, Kush and Dan. Cheese. Pizza. Viva Burrito. Anna’s. Felcarro’s. My apartment. Parties at my apartment. Dim sum Sundays with Henry. Eating way too much again. Then bakeries in Chinatown for moon cake, peanut butter buns and egg custard pastries. The commuter rail home. Red line. Green line. Orange line. Movie theatres. Watching movies with my family and the delicious snacks that usually accompanied. Netflix. My sister’s ability to make us laugh no matter how serious of a mood we are in. Buscalung. Teasing Prachi. Making fun of some ridiculous winter jacket designed for moon landings (or something) that Anil bought…with matching goggles. Being coerced into becoming a Huskies fan. Adventures with Nina. Trader Joe’s. Whole Foods. Hummus. Fast internet. Dressing nice. Not getting dirty the second you step outside. Talking about life with my sister. Fang making pot stickers. Our big TV. Sarcone and Arman and all the adventures, foods, beverages and comments about women that usually follow. My friends prescribed cheer up sessions when I’m depressed. Dunkin Donuts. Eating gross Chinese buffet food with my sister and paying $40 for it. Going back to the same place. Knowing everything in the lives of my family. Diya. Playing with the kids at my mom’s daycare. Springsteen and Floyd blasting through the apartment. Lengthy discussions about useless TV shows with roommates. Boston. Family, friends and everyone in between.
There’s no place like home.
There’s no place like home.
There’s no place like home.