I don’t remember how many forms I have filled out over the years.School admissions, exam registrations, scholarship portals, and college applications. Uploading documents, checking details twice, and clicking submit. For me, these were routine tasks squeezed between everyday responsibilities. For her, each form was a step closer to a life she was determined to build. …
Ageing Through Frames: A Gradual Shift in Perspective
Recently, Google Photos reminded me of pictures from my marriage seven years ago—right on cue as our anniversary approaches. I smiled at the screen, I remembered how I had posed in all possible styles, switching outfits, adjusting my dupatta, asking the photographer if the lighting was right. I had two albums made—one traditional and one …
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Where It All Began: The Inspiration Behind The Song of Our Bond
Khurda Road — the name reminds me of summer holidays, nani ghar, and the warmth of simpler times. It’s a small town in Odisha where my maternal grandmother lived. Being part of a coastal region, its air carries a gentle saltiness, the palm trees sway lazily, and the red soil glows under the sun — …
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Timeless Letters of Love & War
Dear World, There was a time when a man in khaki, with a jhola slung over his shoulder, would come to our houses on a cycle and ring the bell… tring tring. And somehow, we would always know that he is here. The Postman. He would hand over our letter and quietly leave. Wasn’t he …
The Song Of our Bond- Part 1: A Tale of Two Worlds
The story dates back to 1970, when India was a strange mix of unity and division. The rich diversity of cultures and languages made the country so unique. But on the other hand, there were these silent but strong walls between different communities. One of those divides was between Bengalis and Oriyas. Now, to outsiders, …
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Revisiting My School: A Journey Through Time
"Pinki, time’s up. Hand over the paper," my class teacher, Miss Sulagna’s voice filled the classroom as the bell echoed in the background. I looked at my answer sheet, and the numbers seemed to vanish, leaving it completely blank in a blink. “Miss, please, just five more minutes. I’ll fail!” I pleaded, my voice choked …
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THE FADING STORIES
There was a soft knock on the door. Tumpa hurriedly left the kitchen to check.“Mitali Di, you’re home early! Everything alright?” she asked, her concern evident. “Hmmm,” Mitali mumbled, avoiding eye contact as she slipped into her room. Tumpa hesitated for a moment but decided not to pry. She sighed and returned to the kitchen …
Cerebration 