Alisha walked into the office cafeteria with a sigh, her tray holding a single cup of coffee. I was already there, picking at a slice of banana bread, watching the drizzle outside. She sat down across from me, her eyes distant.

“I’m missing home,” she said softly, stirring her coffee. It’s Ramadan and my family is gathering together,” she said. “The house will be filled with laughter, the smell of biryani, my mother fussing over me and here I am, staring at spreadsheets.” She gave a small, tired chuckle.

Work has been relentless lately. The world outside moved at its usual pace but for her, it felt like she was standing still, caught between where she was and where she wished to be.

“This is life, Alisha,” I said. “It moves. Places change, people change. Even a cub must leave its den. A pigeon must leave its nest. Animals train their young to survive and then, they let go.”

She looked at me, listening.

“Yes, it’s okay to miss them,” I continued. “You’ll call them, text them. We have that privilege. You’ll hear their voices, see their smiles on video. It’s not the same, I know but it’s something. One day, you’ll visit, and it’ll feel like you never left.”

She sighed, staring into her cup. “I know. It’s just… tough sometimes.”

“It is,” I admitted. “But you’re doing well. You’ve built a life here. And home? Home isn’t always a place. Sometimes, it’s just the people who make you feel like you belong.”

A small smile tugged at her lips. “Thank you,” she said. “I needed that.”

For those reading this—homesickness is real, and adaptation is hard. But life keeps moving, and so do we. Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing—know this: home isn’t just behind you. It’s also wherever you choose to make it.