A beautiful place called Home...

It was almost 7 years after marriage that I finally got a chance of a lifetime to spend some quality time with my parents. Hence a visit to the City of Joy but no, not just any other visit, but a visit that brought me back to where I belong. A wet Calcutta in the month of August is otherwise quite a disgusting phenomenon for the ones living in the city but to me every puddle, every rivulet, every clogged drain, and every swimming vehicle had a story to tell.
I kept my outings restricted and almost mastered the art of Slackadom with my sweet Mom pampering me to death and thanking me nearly every second when I laid hands on the simplest household chores! A couple of happy moments spent...sweet and invigorating!
My life in Calcutta is a random record of memories because I spent my school and college years in a small industrial town called Durgapur. So, many memories have digressed from the Steel Township to the Metropolis. I guess, that just breaks my heart because you almost kiss your ‘Wonder Years’ goodbye; not really though!
Anyways, having too many relatives and friends in the city always brings me closer to home. Gives me a chance to complete unfinished business, reunite lost touch, read pages from a book, faded with the passage of time, and mostly, rediscover a part of me, almost forgotten! Let’s just keep it to ‘Home is where heart is’ for the time-being because my visits to Gariahat, Maidan. Art Gallery, New Market, Park Street, and other popular destinations could be a story told some other time.