I reside in "The Adobe of Clouds" and certainly won't brag about my prolific existence amidst the woods. I've never necessarily required a vacation. Since the mild breeze, the blue sky, the unexpected days and the rainy nights created magic. I've been so occupied with uncertainties in my life that it has always been a thrilling experience. During my childhood "vacation" meant long drives beyond the clouds, passing by the hills and sensing the cool drizzle from the waterfalls. I wanted to experience life even greater since growing up disturbs our mystical imaginative world. Although I'm certainly not stating that my environment has changed but my vague assumption certainly did. Since, vacation finally did become a necessity.

I tried to achieve my necessity by travelling 1200km away from home. To a place entitled "The Land of Joy" as I presumed my joyful smile would be attained once again had I been to the land that had "joy" in it's name. I had experienced some of my best times being there. I went to monumental sites to enrich my knowledge practically and I was baffled to realise that life in West Bangal was beyond imagination. It was a land filled with glorious unheeded cultures and traditions. The fact that most households I'd visited admired Tagore songs and classical music made me feel attached to them. Since, I had learned Tagore Nritya when I was young in a land far away from Kolkata. The Bengali literature has a depth to it, a kind that will always inspire my work. It's language is known to be one of the sweetest language and I'm glad to have known it. Keeping aside all the various aspects of Kolkata the best I still believe is the various kind of cuisines. Food in Kolkata is Love, affordable yet delicious. Kolkata might be an unknown land but it welcomed me as it was my own. The land did bring back my joyful smile but this time it was brighter.

I returned from my little vacation of two weeks and with thoughtful mind began journaling on the roof top while watching the sun disappear before my eyes. It brought back a sudden memory from the time I had been to Kolkata. A time when I was standing high above the Hoogly river on Howrah Bridge feeling the cold breeze pass my bare skin while the water beneath splashing and synchronizing perfectly with the hustle and bustle of the buzy roads. A smile once again brought back to my happy face, the darkness shone and I walked down the stairs to come back home.