The Favorite Place I Couldn't Choose!

 

Some questions don't seek an answer. They quietly reveal something about you that you never stopped to notice.

It happened during one of our usual late-night conversations, just another conversation between PIC besties (Prati, Indu and Chaitra). It was somewhere between the night of July 22nd and the early hours of the 23rd.

Out of nowhere, Chaitra asked me,

"Which is your favorite place you want to visit?"

To be sure, I asked, "Do you mean among the places I've already been to?"

She smiled and said, "Yes."

It sounded like one of the easiest questions anyone could ask.

Instead, it became one of the hardest.

Within seconds, twenty-five years of journeys began unfolding inside my mind. It wasn't a recollection it was a replay.

My thoughts wandered beyond countries and continents. They revisited long drives that never felt long enough. Solo journeys where silence became the best companion.
From Pondicherry's cyclone to Leh–Ladakh's breathtaking landscapes; from the mountains of Sikkim to the deserts of Rajasthan; from the Titanic Museum in the US to the majestic Alps viewed from Milan; and from midnight shopping in Singapore to countless other unforgettable moments - every memory came rushing back.
Treks that tested my endurance. Ancient temples that humbled me. Museums that whispered forgotten stories. Magnificent architecture. Timeless monuments. Caves carved out of mountains. Skyscrapers touching the clouds. Adventure sports that made my heart race.

Every destination came alive. Every journey carried a story. Every place seemed to compete for the same space in my heart.

Choosing one suddenly felt impossible.

As Chaitra patiently waited, I finally answered,

"Ellora."

More specifically, the Kailasanatha Temple.

Even today, I find myself wondering how human beings imagined something so magnificent, let alone carved an entire temple out of a single rock. It continues to leave me speechless.

She simply smiled and said,

"Interesting."

Then she moved on to the next question.

The conversation continued.

But my mind didn't.

Long after the conversation ended, that one question stayed with me.

Why did I take so long to answer something so simple?

Why did every place feel equally meaningful?

Why couldn't I instantly name a favorite?

The more I reflected, the more I realized that perhaps I wasn't choosing between places at all.

Psychology tells us that memories are rarely stored as isolated events. They are encoded with emotions, relationships, struggles, achievements, sounds, smells, and the version of ourselves that existed in that moment. We don't merely remember a destination; we remember who we became while we were there.

Maybe that is why every place came rushing back.

Pondicherry wasn't just a coastal town. It reminded me of how powerful nature is!

Solo drives weren't about roads. They reminded me that solitude can be peaceful instead of lonely.

Treks weren't merely mountains. They reminded me that every difficult climb eventually rewards you with a different view.

Museums weren't collections of artefacts. They reminded me that every generation leaves behind a story waiting to be understood.

Singapore and Sri Lanka weren't just another country to visit. It carried conversations, laughter, discoveries, unexpected moments, and memories that photographs can never fully capture.

And Ellora?

It represented 'Wonder'.

It reminded me that human imagination is capable of creating what logic initially believes to be impossible.

That's when another thought quietly emerged.

Perhaps our favorite place is never determined by its beauty.

It is determined by the emotion it awakened within us.

The place becomes memorable because something inside us changed while we were there.

That late-night question also made me realize something else.

Maybe the most beautiful journeys are not measured in kilometers travelled, countries visited, or photographs collected.

They are measured by the number of times life quietly reshapes who we are.

So, if someone asks me again, "Which is your favourite place?"

I may still say "Ellora."

But now I know why it took me so long.

I wasn't searching for a destination.
I was searching through decades of becoming.
Perhaps we never truly fall in love with places.

We fall in love with the version of ourselves that those places quietly helped us discover.