Memories are always shifting and even recreated by our current circumstance. My sense of home till date has always been transient yet wholesome. The setting was temporary but the reality of having to move was continuous. ‘Home’ was simply where one was (and would try to thrive). As I look back, I realize we are all capable of shaping our recollections; spinning them as fleeting or substantial, positive or negative, or we simply forget. My homes varied in neighborhood, climate, scale and grandeur. I do not remember a single address I have had. This series is about the pockets of my life in which I grew up; before those pockets sheltered others after me.