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           Of the love of the smile,

           Of the little hands so fragile,

           Of the baby steps yet to take,

           Of the uttered words which form and break,

           Of a journey of life yet to explore,

          O, my dear Baakyo, congratulations on your ‘ Annaprashon’

Dear Baakyo,

I really don’t know what to write, for I do not know the ways of the world , of familial relationships, the duties of an aunt. Motherhood is perhaps I will not understand in this lifetime. So, if I have something to say, things will be different. Continue reading



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Of books and books, in a sea where the soul seeks to drown,

  Of the dusty field and the old Maidan;

  Of the memories preserved in the past,

  It is the old Book Fair of Maidan”.

With the Kolkata Book Fair ending yesterday, like every year, this year too, memories have started to haunt me; tears have never done any good to me; so this time, I rejected them and took resort to the only thing I have, the only thing, I can give to the world  : writing. Since the last eight years, I have been fighting with the change that had attacked the book fair; of course it has not been easy for me to accept the change, who is like a ‘ step mother’ to me ; yes the change : from venue to the name , from the scene to the scenario. I have always been sceptical about this new step mother even though, these days I am trying laboriously to accept her. People say , “Whaao … you are lucky”, when I reveal my identity of being the granddaughter of  Late Sushil Mukhopadhyay, founder member and first president of Book Seller’s and Publisher’s Guild Kolkata. Don’t know about luck but book fair has been more than ‘ just’ a fair to me. Continue reading