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Everytime I go Palakkad (my native in Kerala) I have always felt butterflies in my stomach. I get goosebumps travelling there. Well thats the place I have spent the major part of my life in. Thats the place where I grew up, made friends and had fun. But that isnt my home. No it isnt. I know every nook and corner of the town. I know which way to go to and I pretty much know my destinations. I have a part of my family there but it has never been my home. Well where is my home I seriously do not know. Everytime I go there on my vaccations I feel wonderful. A feeling of content strikes me just by the sight of the station. The journey in the autorikshaw from the station to my home brings in an adrenaline rush that I am reaching somewhere I belong. This sunday I am going home. I am more than happy, I am eager, I am excited and anticipating the day to arrive as soon as possible. But then out of no where the question pops whether that I really belong there. Where that is my real home. Whether that is it or my destination named home is far far away and I am yet to find. I do not know and so does the question of home remain unanswered.