I stand at the edge of the rice paddy fields, my bare feet sinking into the damp soil as water slowly flows over my toes. The vivid green plants stand tall in the water, and stretch deep into the horizon. The sky is painted with magnificent shades of red, orange, and yellow as the sun sets to my left.

I close my eyes. My other senses become amplified.

The river's current melodiously trickles by. The leaves of the towering trees rustle amidst the whispers of cool evening breeze. Crows cry out in the distance, and the stray dogs' barks from the nearby village echo down the dirt road. The bells around the necks of the cows jingle as the large animals slowly lumber past me. I inhale deeply, smelling the fresh scent of the earth. I smell the piles of manure that were just left behind me on the side of the road. The musky scent of a firepit from the village wafts through the air.

I open my eyes and smile. This was my home, and will always be, for the rest of my life.

My grandparents in India live in a small village in the state of Telangana. There are beautiful fields of crops that surround the village, which consists of about 8-10 small homes made of bamboo, mud, cow dung. They have a small farm with chickens and goats. As a child, I would often play with the farm animals, chasing after them and attempting to catch one and smother it with my affection in my arms. At night, as the adults gathered together on somebody's front porch to socialize, I would play with the other children, running around the firepit and playing tag. As I grew older, I would sit with the women during their gatherings, delighted to be a part of the conversation.

More recently, I became more fond of the rice paddy fields that lay about fifty feet from the entrance to the village. They were a place for me to unwind, destress, and forget about my worries. Surrounded by the beauty of nature in every direction, with my senses overwhelmed, I would sit at the edge of the fields and stare into the distance, letting my mind wander. I often lost track of time, caught up in my thoughts as I appreciated the land around me for hours and only returning to the village upon hearing the shouts of my grandmother calling for me. This is my favorite place in the entire world, a place for me to heal and find myself.

Though I no longer live in India, the tranquility and beauty of my village will always hold a special place in my heart. I am comforted by the knowledge that no matter how challenging life becomes, I can always disconnect and return to my roots.