RADAR108
test-2
Posted on Jun-02-2025

<div style=' background:#FFFFFF;color:#000000;font-family:Verdana;width:auto;padding:5px;'><span><p>ing the person next to you understands.</p><p><br></p><p>Home is the sense of ease that floods you unexpectedly, reminding you that maybe you don’t have to choose one over the other. Maybe home is all the places you’ve loved layered on top of each other.</p><p><br></p><p>A Permanent State of In-Between</p><p>For many in the diaspora, this search never ends. There’s always a tug — between the country of your birth and the country of your future. Between nostalgia and ambition. Between wanting to belong and fearing you never fully will.</p><p><br></p><p>Some of us find home in passports and permanent residencies. Some find it in WhatsApp groups with family 10 time zones away. Some in the annual trip to India that feels more alien each time.</p><p><br></p><p>And some — perhaps most — learn to live in the in-between. A life where "Where are you from?" is a complicated question, and "Where is home?" an even harder one.</p><p><br></p><p>Maybe Home Is Meant to Be Rewritten</p><p>Maybe home isn’t something you find. Maybe it’s something you build, quietly, over years — a mosaic of smells, faces, memories, and feelings that you carry wherever you go.</p><p><br></p><p>Maybe it's less about having one true home, and more about being at home within yourself — no matter how foreign the land, how unfamiliar the streets, or how heavy the winters.</p><p><br></p><p>Because in the end, home might not be a person, a place, or a feeling.</p><p>Maybe it's all three — stitched together by time, migration, and memory.</p><span></div>