Self Built House. Sweet Home. My Dream House

Own House – Dream Of A Middle-Class Boy

Self Built House. Sweet Home. My Dream House“I touched the wall, smelled the fragrance of the paint”. I’m very close. A long journey it’s been, indeed! Own house, yeah! Each of the brick has been through the heat of the struggle. A natural affinity is there with all its corners.

It all started at the very beginning of my life. As I grew up, the wishes of my parents to have their own house somehow touched every topic, they used to discuss. Later, it turned out as my dream too. I became an aspirant. All their expectations were now from me. I never had an idea that my desires would become so fervid on me. It became a mission to conquer.

Childhood dream bungalow

“A spacious bungalow with servants all around readily available in my service” was my childhood imagination. That was very obvious for a middle-class boy like me. Pointing at some fat tummy-rich man and saying to my little sister “I would keep this man as my servant!” All that was so satisfying. Gradually, the reality got ingress into my dreams.

Versus to reality

It was possibly easy only in my thoughts. The reality was bitter enough. I had no source of money to raise. No silver spoon had been used to feed me. I had to think something big, but what? I was blank.

Generically, parents had reserved a panacea for me. If I would study more, I would earn more. But I wasn’t into that. It did nothing except adding more responsibilities to me. Appreciating me was more of expecting big from me.

I tried and failed, but my parents kept their proud feel as constant on me. My relatives were so advanced, even the chameleons must’ve taken lessons from them. Their applauding suddenly changed into taunts with fake care.

Every step was important. The seed got inseminated in my mind. Zealously I chose this journey and stepped into it. Work and studies with a harsh mindset and no facilities with self-created family pressure, I destroyed my inner peace. Dragged my exhausted piece of meat and patted my back to stay calm. I had strong support; my parents were there for me.

Money brings money and so poverty. Here, the problems were arranging more problems for me. Wasted effort, switching from one task to the other, I was dipping into depression. I somehow was getting just enough for my bread. Inch by inch, I saved from it. The calendars got changed, years rolled into the past.

My own house

The Combined savings of years were for collecting all the bricks to shape a home. It’s getting built now. The winning spark has doubled my happiness. At present, I’m living this dream. The struggle would be there in your lives too. Make sure what matters, your dreams or your comfort? You’ll forget your pain looking at your dream as getting live.

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