Written by Anusuya Datta, a writer and journalist residing in Saskatoon, this First Person column explores the concept of home and belonging. For more information on First Person stories, visit the FAQ.
As we adorned our home with holiday lights in early December in Saskatoon, the absence of snow didn’t diminish my admiration for our abode. Embracing the saying “Home is where the heart is,” after three years in Canada, we have discovered a place we can truly call home.
Upon entering the house for the first time during our house hunt, my husband, teenager, and I were captivated by the profusion of windows. Natural light streamed in from all angles, casting a warm and welcoming aura across every room, including the basement.
“Ma, this feels like home,” remarked my child, a sentiment that had been missing for a while.
“And not a dentist’s office!” quipped the typical teenager, reminiscing about the other “perfect” houses we had viewed.
Characterized by simplicity and coziness, our house boasted a front lawn that exuded elegance and a backyard adorned with swaying poplar trees. The defining feature, however, was the abundant windows.
Neither extravagant nor petite, our abode was just the right size—it was love at first sight.
Reflecting on Childhood Memories of Home
Surrounded by Christmas lights in our backyard, with the greenery fading and leaves carpeting the ground, memories of my childhood home in India flooded back. The expansive front yard with a fragrant jasmine bush and towering sunflower plants, and the backyard with Mom’s kitchen garden, where my siblings and I once attempted a canal system for watering plants, all echoed in my mind.
Nostalgia overwhelmed me, as I embraced the chance to recreate similar cherished memories with my family.
Following our move from Delhi to Saskatoon, the past few years have been a tumultuous journey for my family. Our previous home in India, acquired as young newlyweds, symbolized ownership and the ability to personalize a space to reflect our dreams.
In stark contrast to my childhood home, Delhi’s urban landscape necessitated apartment living for middle-class families like ours. Our apartment, with its ample sunlight and spacious balconies, became a repository of memories, laughter, and tears as our family expanded.
It wasn’t expansive or cramped—it was just right for us, evolving into our cherished abode.
The Transience of Renting
Leaving our cherished home to relocate thousands of miles away to Saskatoon was a disquieting experience, amplifying the sense of impermanence that accompanies renting.
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