Infinity In My Teacup

INFINITY IN MY TEACUP Sometime, when the wicker of the incandescent dusk, perched On the incense limbs of the Himalayan cypress, Spilled the blue aroma of faraway desire, All over the candle-lit mist of the valley – Then, in the saucer of mountain-lost souls, I found infinity in the fumes of my teacup.

Rain, Soul and Ruskin Bond

Sometimes, when it rains, I like to curl up on the window ledge – in my verandah, which has a honeycomb of windows, instead of walls – with a cup of first flush tea – living partly in North Bengal pays off emotional needs in the name of grocery – and read Ruskin Bond’s poetry….

Why Contemplative Writing Will Never Go Out Of Fashion

The immediate pinch which set off this essay was a Facebook post which spoke of how one of the rejection letters of Einstein’s theory of relativity said, that his claims were too artistic to be physics. Just over a month ago, on the last stretch of my editorial work for our college science magazine –…

#Dooars: How to be a Do-er

Have breakfast on river rocks. Get up early and stare at the squawking black drongo on the tree caressing your window sill. Take a long time to have your tea. Put on just the right amount of weight, that is, thanks to your camera and maybe a light jacket. Throw your head out of the…

Chronicling the second Xavotsav

I love my college. I love my friends. Did you get that? Do you want me to repeat? All right, if you’re clear on that, and are ready to proceed with the silent suspended “but” that wants to wrench free from beneath that full stop, I am going to tell our freshers one teeny-tiny truth…

North Bengal’s Secret Spellbook, Page 101: Village hues

Last night, there were fireworks – red, green and golden – erupting in the black sky above Rajbari Dighi. Hindi party songs reverberated from all directions and melded at the point where I stood alone on the veranda, surveying the horizon speckled with a hundred trees raising flag masts of scanty leaves. New year’s day…

Winter semester: a tea-maker’s recipe

I’ll just lay it out there. Imagine a cup of tea. It is made with not much expertise, but with enough care to retain the identity of the quintessential Bengali elixir in small earthen cups. It is supposed to go through a screening that would further expose it to the likes of high-end Makaibari breed…