A traveler's prelude

The sun shines on the windowsill, as I gaze out the open door into the tiny field of weeds and wildflowers that inhabit my grandparents' back doorstep, as I reflect on the last 72 hours of my life. My emotions regarding this trip have truthfully been scattered; but sitting in the room I've slept in numerous times in years past, with books strewn and a blanket covering my cold, sock-covered feet, I feel a familiar tug in my heart of the strings that perhaps figuratively control its beats. Last night, as I waited outside to be let in the locked front door, I stole a glance upward towards the clearest sky I've seen in days. There was Mars, staring straight back at me, its orange hue easily discernible amongst the white-colored stars. Even half-way around the world, I stood in awe of the crisp beauty of the night sky. Even here, in a place so vastly different from the haunts I frequent at home, it yields a magnificent view of our planetary neighbor.

After a stolen yet lingered look, I came inside and immediately prepared for a long-awaited, much-needed rest, but not before jotting down a few notes about my day, gallivanting around the streets of Kolkata. It's from these and all subsequent notes that I'll attempt to recount my time here in the city of my birth. I hope that my words are able to create a tapestry of images that reflect my experiences, views, and perspectives here in the next few weeks. You will, however, have to forgive any omissions in this process, as I've come to find my short-term memory failing me these days (a discovery I blame on engineering).