Some threads never thin
'Hey, how was the journey? Missing them already?' My spouse affectionately asked while a soundless Tesla, booked through Uber, picked us up upon my arrival at the Sydney Airport. As it cruised out to the roads, quietude enfolded us. I was walloped by the silence - as if I was thrust through a portal shutting me off from the familiar sounds and hues I was wrapped in a few hours back. Cars honking, rickshaws blowing horns, autos and buses claiming lion's share of the roads, pedestrians gingerly managing with a sliver of what's left while accommodating apparently temporary stalls of fruit, flowers, veggies, tea and snacks stands, gigantic flyovers looming over the din - that sketched my 3-week stay in my beloved hometown - ever so vibrant, vivacious, variegated. What exactly was I missing? The clamour? The colours? The cacophony? I shook my head till I found my answer - Kolkata - a name that tugs at my heartstrings. Some threads never thin. How could they? They sew me i...