Home. House. Home. On my mind, in my heart, and on my lips. Lately, it is all I think about. It is what I long for and if you met me for more than 5 minutes, it’s what you would hear me speak of – the house I do not have in the place that I call home.
This is my “now” reality. Same as it has been the reality of almost anyone who lives in Auroville. Because, at one point or another, most of us have had the experience of feeling one’s home is Auroville regardless of having a house.
It can be said it’s like this everywhere else and yes, of course, it is, especially when we speak metaphorically of an inner sense of home. However, as with most things in Auroville, having, or living, in the actual physical structure we call house is poignantly and distinctly Aurovilian because in Auroville you are either a steward or a house sitter. There is no in-between.
Being the steward of a house means you have invested money in the exercise of responsible non-ownership, fully aware that the home ...
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