Step 1.
To make a home, you first need a house. Peruse around the lively streets of Brick Lane to the cosmopolitan wonders of Shepherds Bush. When you find out there is no space for you here, follow Step 2.
Step 2.
Home is where the heart is.
Step 3.
Remember how Amma taught you to peel potatoes, an amateur knife gliding across its spotted skin in a single successive coil? Excellent. Now, do that to your skin. (I know, excruciating but necessary). As you shed ribbons of flesh, your heart will stand bare peeking through its chamber. Sticky with lingering Vicks from last week’s cold and stray jasmine scented hairs. Let it drop to the floor and roll away.
Step 4.
Homesick? You may want some fresh air in your abode so bury your lungs in the walls till they start expanding and contracting, suffocating softly from the aroma of warm Delhi traffic.
Step 5.
To build a roof, start small but remain consistent. Break off your finger bones first before moving on to the bigger ones for a sturdy structure. Dig through your body and see what else you can find for a chimney, your brain may hold trinket boxes or shawls perhaps.
Step 6.
Your cushions smell like the stares your coworkers give you when you warm up your tiffin-box. Plump and feather the cushions. I know there’s blood everywhere. A good Dettol wipe and Febreeze will do the trick.
Step 7.
Nail the floorboards down aggressively with a hammer, or let’s be more clichéd - a rolling pin. Let no unwanted memories or past versions of yourself squirm through the cracks.
Step 8.
There is no place like home. Feel the walls in you. Push. You birth splintering sediment, crisp concrete and unrelenting bricks which claw their way out. A new foundation for the extension you always wanted.
Step 9.
Home is not anywhere, but you have something close enough. Fragments here and there. You start to build it and it will start to build you.
Step 10.
Home, sweet, home.