I have called this city a partial home, where most of my vacation days were spent as a child. Visiting here after two decades brought back memories that I wanted to capture before they were lost to time, as the place undergoes drastic changes yet retains the essence of what my childhood felt like.
The singer alone does not make a song, there has to be someone who hears: One man opens his throat to sing, the other sings in his mind. Only when waves fall on the shore do they make a harmonious sound; Only when breezes shake the woods do we hear a rustling in the leaves.
There is a sea of pilgrims at Jammu’s small railway station. I am travelling with my aunt and grandparents and the only way to travel is the 32-hours train ride to Calcutta. We wait among the Victorian wooden pillars and arches. Wafting aromas of cinnamon and tea leaves fill the air from the little tea
The announcement from the flight attendant woke me up from the mild slumber and I looked down. The display of small bright lights seemed to decorate the whole city and gave its meaningful name The City of Joy! After all the waiting in queue for check-out and baggage, I exit the aerodrome and hail a taxi.