Growing up in a hot and humid tropical place, the idea of comfortable sleep to me is on a thin bed, even better a mat, with a fan that’s spinning at the max. The whirring wind on the face takes care of the problems from humidity, noise pollution and most importantly, it’s a meditative sound that kills your inner critic so that one can sleep.

As I grow up and read westernised psychology, and thereby all the initial AI ‘advices’, one of the repeated suggestions that I hear, to comfort or to feel secured is a heavy blanket. The idea sounds great in winter, which is absent in the tropical place that I live in.

On a steamy humid afternoon turning to a breezy early evening, taking a stroll is a luxury when you live in a busy schedule with a noisy mind. One such rare fortunate day, I had the luxury. A stroll is much safer than a bike ride to enjoy the breeze and the nature. A bike ride is cooler than being in a train. Traveling alone on the footsteps of a superfast express at night with stars is romantic than having someone romantically involved in a car or a bus or a plane or any travel mode.

I prefer a stroll or a two wheeler or a train, for the peripheral vision will not be compromised. You have wide angled photographs of nature and skies taken by your eyes in these modes. The luxurious walk that day blessed me with a thick blanket of dark clouds, traversing from far swiftly flying towards me, spreading over the entire sky. As it approached, the thickness revealed itself to be porous enough, not to suffocate me when I was in a tropical place. With a gentle breeze, evading a storm, avoiding gushing sounds, hiding the lightning, it sprinkled enough droplets. The distant paddy fields, recreated the whirring with a pinch of romance. The right way of comforting and making me feel secured, nature knew.