Those at work were comparing housing prices today, and Fu suddenly quiped, 'I think, you'd call a place home as long as you own a house there.' And to justify that she mentioned the house she had in Beijing as compared to the rented room here in Singapore.
I'm seemingly divided on that; I'm not too sure myself. I've shifted countless times - Bedok R, Rose Garden, Jago, Clover Cres, Serangoon Lane, St Heilers', WMC. I'm not sure if those were homes, or merely places of shelter, an abode in which time passes. It's always felt like a sojourn. Or rather, it's always been one.
We finally did up WMC last year end. Built-ins, fresh paints, new lightings etc etc. It was like moving into a new place. And maybe this is what's finally home. It seems more secure that we won't be moving again, that we're in between our two clubs, near my parents' childhood homes, near my kindergarden, within walking distance to really good food. Perhaps Fu was right afterall; that home is where ownership is, where one places more than a monetary value on the dwelling, and it becomes more than just four walls of protection.
1:27:00 am
