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Sun-kissed beaches are by far the most popular holiday destination. But get your heartbroken, and you will hate the picture of a warm toasted happy beach. So did I, in December 2016. Everything from the romantic couple sipping coconut water to the family with the playing child to the group of beer-chugging youngsters annoyed me. “Should it be the Mountains then this time?”, I wondered...umm... Mountains could paint me more melancholic at this time of my heart. I finally zeroed on the desert. “Yes! Jaisalmer–the Golden city”. I had a heavy heart, moist eyes that were sleep-deprived due to the crying and researching tickets all night, but the simultaneous thrill to be travelling kept me going. Jaisalmer is in the Indian state of Rajasthan - a riot of colours, artsy, old desert gipsy tribes, camels camouflaged in the yellow desert and to top it all, breath-taking and majestic forts. Rajasthan means the 'Land of Kings' and it is every inch royal. Until then, I had only seen the desert in films and books. I wondered on my flight to Rajasthan, that the desert must be like an ocean of sand instead of water, rather an ocean without the water but only the sand. When I finally reached my hotel room in Jaisalmer late that night, and I was all alone, it hit me again. I hit the sack and fell asleep holding the pillow consoling me. The next morning, I rushed to the open cafe at the hotel rooftop for breakfast. I didn’t want to give myself too much time alone in my room. The moment I stepped into the rooftop cafe, I paused. It was the Fort. The Golden Fort reigning the golden landscape of the Golden City. The colour palette was blue and yellow. The blue sky lined the golden fort made of sandstone around 800 years back. “Camel milk tea Madam?", called out the waiter who was staring at me while I was hypnotised by a sight which was out of a fairy tale book. I checked my phone one last time before I ventured with the guide as my day was planned. There was no message from him, the one I broke up with, the one I hated and the one I loved, the one I wanted to lose and the one I kept finding in small little things in Jaisalmer. As we walked into the Fort, the animated guide did his job while I spaced out on the faces of the people peeping out of their beautiful ethnic carved windows, looking at travellers with so much wonder and awe. I spoke to a few local shopkeepers and their families. The locals hardly had travelled outside Rajasthan, but they seemed content. Their villages meant the world to them, even their nation. No! I mean literally. They were born there, they lived there and died there...Happy. Which is important! There I was, travelling and exploring the world, but unhappy. The royal palace reeked of wealth, opulence and death - a blatant Memento Mori reminding everyone Kings could win wars but not death. Apart from the photos of the Kings and their names on the palace, books and now Wikipedia, none were alive. After a quick round of the Fort, we left for the desert, finally on a Jeep, followed by a camel ride that led us to the ocean of sand, the desert. Vast unending nothingness with unending beauty. I picked a handful of sand and watched it flow like a sand clock. “From dust thou made, and unto dust, thou shall return”, The Bible echoed in my ears. The Gita summarises a similar note: “you did not bring anything into this world and you will take nothing with you”. Then whom did I cry for? Which love? Which loss? Whose tears I cried and whose joy did I feel, anyway? I took an eyeful of the desert once more, closed my eyes and felt the sand with both my palms kneeling. It was melancholic but fulfilling. The palette was blue and yellow again, like pain and joy. Like life itself. My pain hit me lesser at that moment. The desert was a healer!