A place once that once felt like home when it wasn't even my home . A small city in Maharashtra , sub region of khandesh and serves as the administrative headquarters of its namesake district, the Jalgaon district . Situated on Asian Highway 53 and 76.3 Km from 'Ajanta caves '. It is not a very famous city , yet a home to me . I was born here on a ordinary Tuesday . But before I could have connected to my culture , we moved to a one of the big cities " Gurugram " in Haryana , it is famous for being known as financial and technological hub . My home changed but my identity was barely known to me . The cities often had big building , huge malls and variety of things , not to add up the pollution that came with it . However real peace could be defined by a place called home which was my birthplace . We used to visit our hometown during my summer vacations and Diwali . The calmness would struck my heart as soon as I would enter the petite roads of Jalgaon , travelling through the small alleys a deep serenity was felt . The lush green trees everywhere would make me feel a sense of comfort each time as I peered through the window . The place had tiny houses lined up it a cute way . All houses of blue ,pink and yellow lined up together making a symphony of beauty that lie down within the small city . Neighbours used to be way closer in the city , sharing of ' bibde papad ' a food delicacy made by the old ladies there along with the blissful smiles they used to give as they invited me to their house was something I miss . Shops ,parks and temples were all nearby . Me and my sister often went to stroll around the small alleys here and there , often doing petty stealing of mangoes from the tree that belonged to some stranger . We also used to have small shops of wonders there , it used to have the most unique food item . Borecut , aam papad , imli goli were some of the treats we loved eating . We had many kids in our colony , the clock would struck seven and we would be out playing with the other kids . Shouting ,jumping , running everything mixed with laughter and fun . We would enter our home and have dinner with the whole family together in the same room . Dishes made with love of my mom were a good way to end the day . This was some of the memories yet locked up in my mind , the peace I felt at that time was something else . Truly made me feel like it was a place one can call home . But soon the things changed as the years and development went on the small city was turned to a good one . Even Jalgaon started having big buildings as the lush greenery started to perish . Everything changed the neighbours now locked up there house and would only have small talks . The small shop now turned into a Big clothing shop , nothing remained the same . Few years back I moved back to Jalgaon only to be shocked by the changes . A place that felt like home was no longer the same . The kids we used to play with barely came out of their homes and we all lost contact . The pear tree and mango tree were cut down , nor do me and my sister meet often now . The only thing that I could feel that brought me back to the feeling of home was nostalgia . But none the less change is one part of life , we must accept it and move on . So what the adventures I did as a child were now only in my memories , I can still build more of memories with my present . I soon learnt to accept this all and keep moving on with my life . And it did not take long enough to be familiar with my new place , which once felt like home was now really my home.