what makes you wonder?

  30th December — 11:32 p.m. Another year has passed. Was it worth the pain it carried? Or if one thinks of a year as broken or lost, does that loss still leave something behind—something that makes us stronger in ways we do not immediately recognize? This year began with a fracture. I lost my grandfather—my old blood. I have not been able to return to my ancestral home even once since February. Somewhere along the way, my emotions stopped moving freely; they now travel with baggage, heavier than before. Grief does that—it does not announce itself loudly, but it settles quietly, altering how one feels everything else. Challenges followed. My father-in-law went through a serious health crisis, casting a long shadow across the year. It became a season of constant worry, a prolonged state of uncertainty that demanded resilience even on days when strength felt absent. My wife, too, bore her own loss. She lost her grandmother—a woman I see as the flag-bearer of courage, one of the stron...

Reading Dostoevsky 28 December, 2025 — 11:42 p.m. After dinner, I watched  Seven Years in Tibet . Perhaps it was inevitable that the film would find me now—after inward turbulence, after a season of questioning. The story follows Heinrich Harrer, a mountaineer driven by conquest, and his unlikely friendship with the Dalai Lama. Yet beneath the historical narrative lies a quieter inquiry: what truly impoverishes a human being—solitude, or attachment mistaken for fulfillment? Heinrich begins as a man obsessed with ascent. Mountains are not merely landscapes to him; they are proofs of worth. His journey from Austria to conquer Nanga Parbat mirrors a deeper hunger—to rise above others, above limitation, above consequence. War interrupts this ambition. Captured by the British during World War II, Heinrich escapes imprisonment and wanders into Tibet, a land untouched by the vocabulary of conquest he carries within himself. In Tibet, something unravels. Heinrich comes close to a culture t...

While listening to   Clair de Lune — Debussy 1:40 a.m. The 26th of December was unlike any other day. It shook me from within. My soul felt wrecked; my body trembled; my mind fractured into pieces I could not immediately gather. Flames, smoke, and a panic-stricken voice closed in on me, swallowing all sense of time. There was only numbness. As seconds passed, a single thought surfaced with terrifying clarity:  this could be the end. The past decade, however, has taught me something invaluable—composure in moments of high risk. Somewhere beneath the fear, that discipline surfaced. I stepped out, pulling myself back from the edge of a black hole I did not yet understand. Only later did I realize the magnitude of what had just occurred. As time passed, my mind turned against itself. Questions began to provoke my thoughts relentlessly.  What if I had been electrocuted? What if I had reacted a few seconds later—would I have survived? What if I had not been at home? What if no ...

24.09.2018 22:42 HRS Boro raag ba abhiman hole, shob shomaye r moto likhte ba, khataye prokash korte boddo iche hoy/hoto. Shai obesh ta onek din e tyag korechilam. Tobe aaj noy. Aaj ar na likhe parlam na. Jani na kano, khub likhte iche korlo. Tai likhchi… Aaj here giye nijer okkhomotar porichoy pelam. Haar?? Kintu kishe? Nijer boyish/shomaye/sthan/porichoy na onno kichu? Uttor ta jana nai. Aaj nijeke nana sthol/sthan e oshommanito lagche. Mon manche na, hridoy bujhchena, kintu kothao akta dosh, kothao akta obesh ami hariyechi bole nijeke dae dichi, hoyto shetar e jonne ami nijer kache goshona korchi ami here gechi kimba here jachi. Jani na, nijer kache jokhon okhomota niye proshno kori, tokhon protek bar er e moton ami jite jae, hoyto ashole jitio, kintu purshkar dite parina. Jani na kano, kokhono e mone hoy ni amr lodai er modher haar ba jeet kokhono adou kono onko kosheche kina. Tar akta e karon, lodaye sesh hote na hotei ami onno akta juddhe paa rekhe di. Shutorang,...

Throughout the year, I wait and think when the monsoon will reach my door and I will rejoice and reinvent my childhood again. Monsoon has always been my favourite season of all. The clouds clash and clanger, then the devious drops after the summer will finally smite the earth surface and we will call, finally the monsoon has arrived. Why eagerly wait for the monsoon, which gives so much trouble- getting wet, mud everywhere, insects and endless things. Monsoon conversely is a pity for many of us. But, it’s a love for me. I was born in the month of July, when the clouds were heavily pouring rain. May be that’s the only thread if a connection is to be made, rest of all are memories. Being Bengali, I am one of those absurd one, who look to purge out from the daily duties and often like to get lost in the field of allegory. A guitar, a window, rabindra-sangeet, a cigar and khichudi in the lunch will do. I can do anything to find this opulent day on my monsoon calendar. Have you ever t...

As the Football Fever has just began, the world seems dancing to one tune.. Ole Ola.. Yes, why not, after 4 years of wait, finally, the period comes again. People are all over discussing and let know their opinion to other’s when it is coming to the FIFA World Cup 2014. But, what this really means for a nation who ranks 154 in the whole world when it comes to Football. We know India is nation known for rich ground sports like Hockey, Kushti, Kabaddi, Kho-Kho etc. We know India is a nation where Cricket is the religion and Cricketers are the God. But, do this sport of skill, time and speed Football, occupy the hearts of 120Cr population? Football is richly celebrated as a religion also in some parts of our country. It may be sparse in India, but wherever the game is followed it is done in unanimity. My city, Kolkata is one such place in the country, where this sport is a religion to many. FIFA World Cup is the biggest festival for the people which comes once in 4 years. Similarly,...