Barely two months ago, 2200 kilometers away in the tiny village of Gunjung nestled in the hills of Assam, I was walking around paddy fields with villagers who had no exposure to structured scientific education and global conversations on climate change, but who understood the importance of water security. Passed on through generations, they had intimate knowledge of how to build their lives using the resources in their surroundings.
Author: Saurabh Dutta
An occasional and amateur traveler who loves to wander, explore, read, capture and narrate stories and experiences
The lost songs of life
Twenty-two years had gone by making a life in a big, unknown city with a stranger. Being a mother, a homemaker, building a new home every two years. The jackfruit and guava trees; girly conversations full of laughter by the pukur; Mrs. Sanyal’s piercing look through her glasses; Manav Kaka’s sesame laddoos and ghoogni; Rajesh Khanna wooing Sharmila Tagore, all had faded into the grind and loneliness of the city life.
Facing emptiness by the river and the sea
The year was marked by deep emotional and physical emptiness, amidst reflections on life, family, and the futility of existence. Longing for liberation was countered by obligations and unresolved desires.
It was an August night
ask me what I want, what would make me happy, and I will blabber some incoherent, existential gibberish. That my arrogant, incorrigible self refuses to make peace with life’s banal existence. Yet that is what I have been doing over the years. Slowly, gradually, unconsciously, consciously, I have been accepting everything and falling into the abyss. What never ceases is the constant longing for the unknown. A restlessness for the intangible. The desire to feel alive.
Happy Anniversary!
Daaarling! Father musters his romantic self and tries to wake up his half-asleep wife. He tentatively places his palms around her face, and says with a big silly smile, Happy Anniversary! In response, Maa half opens her eyes, conjures a scowl, removes his hands away, and turns to the other side, clearly sending the message…
I am doing well. How about you?
Hey! Long time! How are you doing? Hi! Good to see you my friend! How am I doing, you ask? Ummm… let’s see. I usually wake up around seven to seven thirty in the morning. I would like to wake up earlier, do some exercise, take care of my body and mind. Have a healthy…
Pondicherry – A traveller’s delight
The herb marinated grilled fish was bland with no flavors. The chicken hot and sour soup served earlier was soya sauce in water with chicken fibers thrown in. The cocktail had no zing either. Booked on a long weekend in peak season, at 1500 rupees per night, I didn’t like my hostel room. After a…
A fable of the past
I was standing with my father in front of the building in which we were moving in. A four storied building in a residential colony in South Delhi, with one apartment on each floor. We were moving onto the 4th floor. The labors were unloading our belongings from a small truck. A pair of cots,…
Experiencing Bir during the rains
I had arrived a couple of hours back after an overnight bus journey. It had been drizzling as I got down from my bus and walked a kilometer to my hostel through narrow lanes lined by local homes and shops. It is 11 am now and raining heavily. I have been roaming around for the…
When someone will take me home
I do not understand what is this guy’s problem. For quite a while now, he has been continuously staring at me from a distance. He gets down on his knees, then lies flat on the sand, sometimes he comes in front of me, sometimes on the side, and sometimes he goes out of sight, I…
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