In the quiet moments — a few seconds before opening my eyes in the morning or just glancing out of the corner of my eye — Rome felt like Calcutta. All memories of my birthplace are tied to my grandmother’s house. The barking dogs, narrow alleyways, even the way the rays of sunlight fell in the early afternoon — all brought me back to the place I spent my holidays, playing and napping and eating to bursting point.
I liked Rome especially in those moments. It felt like being home.
Day two of our visit to Italy, my parents and I visited Vatican City. We took a hop-on hop-off bus, which took us on a beautiful route around Rome as well. The streets bustled with life and energy and for the third time in my life (after living in New Delhi and London), doubt flickered in my mind about New York being the only city that never sleeps.