Yesterday when I entered home after being away for a week, I felt like I was walking into paradise. The car ride from the train station to home was so quiet. Plain and peaceful. Compared to the bustling, dirt-filled, polluted Jaipur roads, the roads here were quiet, stretched pastures. There was a still a soft chill in the air when I got off the car. And as it moved into the driveway, birds could already be heard in enthusiastic chirps, as if in my welcome. A little sunshine filtered through the leaves, obscuring a hint of lingering fog that was beginning to fade away. Dad looked unusually youthful in his bright off-white shirt and half grey sweater, standing at the gate, smilingly, in my welcome. My mum too broke into a big smile. The living room through which I entered looked big and the teak of the furniture, the maroon of the carpet, and the gentle pale of the walls all glorious after mingling with sun light wafting into the room through the large windows in the front. This house is beautiful and spacious. But when I entered it yesterday, I felt like I was walking into a palace. Into paradise.
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