Home

The meaning of home to me is, the smell of fresh food being cooked. The feeling of my soft stuffies and my fluffy purple blanket when I sleep at night. My sister is laughing and yelling at me. Looking at my pink and white beaded bracelet my sister gave me before she left for UBC. All my jewelry I made and bought. All my clothes and toys. Seeing all my sketches I have drawn. Me seeing my friend every week after school feels like home to me.Hearing dogs barking across the street. The whistles coming from my moms cooking pot. Birds tweeting. In winter the chilly and hard snow feels like home to me. The meaning of home in India is all my aunts and uncles smiling and laughing. Tasting all the yummy food on the streets of India. Going to all the shops. Hearing the noises of bikers and black mini vans without doors. Hearing the tv playing at my house mostly all day. Saying bye to my cousin as he goes to school. The screaming of my cousin and me. Looking at all the small shops t coming along the way. The sweet taste of the ice cream and something like a popsicle, little longer and is ice cream on a stick. Loud noises of people on streets. All the clothes shops that come along the way. My cousin and I are going to play with his friends till late at night, across the street. The smell of street food when walking down the streets. The loud noises of street dogs barking. Going in the metro to go somewhere or for a tour. In the metro hanging on the bright yellow handle for fun. Drinking the coconut water in India. These are things I will never forget!