All things Language, all things Culture
Till a while ago, whenever I looked down from a high ledge, I'd retreat, afraid of a fall. Now, I enjoy looking down from this abandoned balcony without rails, strewn with blood-red broken chairs. Down below another abandoned balcony comes into view. Shadows deepen in the woods, clouds rumble in the sky. And in the… Continue reading Raai, Awake 5: Translating Ritam Sen’s Jaago Raai
It irks me to no end when environmental safeguards that are already in place are diluted to make way for 'ease of doing business'. With the EIA notification draft 2020, the Indian government is all set to effectively set aside one such environmental safeguard that is already in place.
What do we feel when we realize that we were wrong all along? About a person, a thing, a situation, an ideology, a method, or even a simple piece of fact. Is it hurt? Shame? Anger? A mix of all together? What changes inside you right at the moment when the wall of ego breaks… Continue reading The Moment I Knew I was Wrong
In which I'm chased, again. This time by some custodians of Faith.
I hate how scared I am of growth. Of things changing and taking on new shapes. Of new places, of movements, of new thoughts emerging and old ones dying out. I hate how quickly the growth spreads through me, like a creeper well sustained by rain and sun. How quick the world changes, how hard… Continue reading Creepers
Just some beautiful dragons by Russian artist Arseniy Lapin that always manages to delight me.
This is a record of a dream that was strange enough to bug me years after.
We are the children of clouds, hiding from the day and waking when the Sun sets. We walk gingerly among the remains of the day; concrete, sand, and stones. We press our ears to still-warm walls, and listen to the sound of heat leaving their frames. It lingers a while, echoing through the brick and… Continue reading We the Children of Clouds
প্রিয় সঙ্গীতা দি, আপনি আমায় চেনেন না। আমিও যে চিনি তেমন নয় তবে আপনার নাম জানি, লেখাও পড়েছি।আমি আপনার ফেসবুক বন্ধুতালিকাতেও নেই কিন্তু আমার পরিচিত অনেকেই আছেন ফলে সেই সূত্রে আপনার পোস্ট মাঝেমধ্যেই চোখে পড়ে। খারাপ লাগে, ব্যক্তিগত ভাবে আঘাত লাগে যখন ভাড়াবাড়িতে থাকা, খসখসে চামড়া, ফুটপাথ থেকে কেনা সস্তার চাদর আর দড়িতে ঝুলে থাকা… Continue reading সঙ্গীতা বন্দ্যোপাধ্যায়কে একটি রাগ-না-করা খোলা চিঠি
Call me quaint, but Radha is one of those metaphors that never fail to move me no matter how cliched. In a way, she is such a primal symbol of love; a love so pure and all-consuming even a god couldn't handle its weight and had to run away. Radha is what remains when we… Continue reading Amar Haat Bandhibi: A Translation
In Other Words 