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I feel, Therefore, I am I bleed, I weep When your skin burns, I feel singed Your home blows up, I feel bereaved Your child goes hungry to sleep, how can I digest dinner? Your limbs torn, eyes gouged, body lying bloodied I sleep in my room, dreaming of wars fought elsewhere When I wake up, my clothes drip blood My soul burns, limbs hurt Has the war come home when I was asleep? #War #SayNoToWar #HumanityFirst #PeaceOnEarth

We humans have managed to make our lives so complicated that unless we take a breather every now and then, its impossible to keep our sanity. City life keeps piling on stress and chronic anxiety till we sigh - its time for a break! I spent a couple of days away from the city's drill with my family in a seaside town - Bakkhali, situated about 135 kms away from Kolkata.  Luckily, we had planned the trip in such a manner, we could avoid the noisy Holi crowd in Kolkata and spend the festival of colours amid the splendour of nature and the sea. Slightly offbeat, very soothing Situated in South 24 Parganas, Bakkhali isn't as famous as the beach towns of Digha or Mandarmani. The reason maybe the receding and tame waves of the sea here. The beach is moon-shaped, undulating, and the waters follow the movement of the tides rather diligently. So, one day you will find the waves lapping at your feet on entering the beach, while on others, you have to walk a mile through the sands to wet y...

 A man bonds with his son over a plate of chhole bhature from a street-side stall. He jokes his wife/son's mother can cook mostly all dishes except this particular favourite. of theirs So it is a given that father and son will have it outside. For that matter, some things taste better from roadside stalls, like momos, chowmein, chaat etc. That man is the father of a boy who has been an accomplice in a gang-rape. Son has learnt from childhood - for change of taste in food or sex, you sample it outside. When you don't get it readily, you snatch it. No qualms, no guilt. Women outside are ready meat for satisfying your cravings. The survivor is questioned about discrepancies in her statement. She says brokenly - yes there have been discrepancies. She doesn't recognize herself anymore, though outwardly she's the same. She used to love flowers, now she associates them with that terrible night. Her students who were like her children are now asking to be invited to the "e...

Now seems to be the worst of times to be alive in. Is anything going well at all in the world? All kinds of wrong people are in the news for all the stupid reasons. Stupidity, greed and selfishness have reached incredible heights. Like a needle in a haystack, positive news is almost invisible. Thankfully, its not non-existent. So, I will focus on what warmed my battered heart a bit: People aren't stopping protesting against atrocities. The Grammy, Bafta and Emmy awards are strewn with A-listers displaying their resistance to injustice and xenophobia.  More and more people are coming out of the stigma of mental illness, owning their vulnerabilities and their demons Common people are rebuilding forests, restoring greenery and fighting for their need for a healthy environment   A teenage boy in Australia swims two hours without a life jacket, fighting strong waves, steeling himself to bring help to his stranded family A Hindu gym owner in India calls himself Mohd. Deepak and...

Part growing-up story, part metaphysical exploration of the human-nature relationship, Amrita Mahale’s Real Life wows with its clarity, poetry and depth. An absolutely engrossing read, the book is unputdownable from start to finish. Lucid language, poetic metaphors and evocative storytelling elevates what is an extremely topical story.  Told from the perspectives of three millenials - Mansi, Bhaskar and Tara, the novel spans out in interconnected segments. You are first drawn into Mansi’s life as voiced from her perspective, then into Bhaskar’s and then Tara’s. Primarily though, this is the story of Tara, the feisty and brilliant scholar on a mission to study the dhole or wild dog habitating the upper mountains. A fierce animal lover, zealous researcher and a maverick of sorts, she's the one who takes up the path least trod.  Real Life centres around the themes of friendship, individuality, love and boundaries. Tara’s childhood friendship with Mansi is the basis of the story, ...

It's that time of the year again. When yearly round-ups are done diligently. Lists made, everyone sits down and assesses hits and misses. You tick off the "achieved goals" from your list. Make resolutions to fulfil the ones not yet surmounted. But I am doing something different. I am taking stock of my setbacks, my disappointments, the let-downs this year. I have absolutely zero expectations from the next year. Why? Because its useless to expect anything that I can't control. And since any chance of better days seems very unlikely, I am collecting the bits of my sanity to somehow trudge along the rest of my time on this planet. Why am I being such a kill-joy, you may ask? Well, not out of choice, certainly. What the world and my country, the air I breathe, the people I mix with, have become, all contribute to my rock-bottom expectations.  1. I am terrified, scared of what my country and its people have become. This wasn't the country I grew up in. It seems as if l...