Bengali short stories

Delhi, India's capital city is under the cover of pollution. Burning smell attacks and chokes the weaker parts of our body. Health specialists are busy voicing their concern by publishing articles in various online medium. There is no dearth of news, some of  which are contrary to your belief and are of opposite nature, and publishers are guaranteed to receive more views and followers for them. For example, a leading Doctor, during the initial pollution days, urged people to keep windows and doors open in the morning to let fresh air inside. Within hours, another specialist in whatsapp site claimed right time for allowing fresh air entry is in fact in the afternoon slot between 3 to 5 by singing a Tagore song: "Thy southerly wind"! After all its the wind, or lack of it, is the root cause behind all this agony other than man made issues. Online sites are buzzing with advices of health precautions. A renowned Cardiologists of Apollo Hospital advised to stay indoor, no ex...

Biggest attraction of our joint family in my native place is Rasaleela event by Lord Krishna which falls in the auspicious full moon of autumn season. It is the festival of joy which is in contrast to the rituals and fasting we observe during Durga Puja. First day morning of the 3 day festival starts with decorating the Puja ghar and outdoor pandals with paper chains of different designs and hidden in between different birds of white spongy pith "Shola" put in between. Noon time was reserved for cleaning the idol seat which is symbolical as if we are washing away impurities of our soul before the main function begins. Then we moved outdoor to find out the fair that has taken shape on our adjacent ground. I used to be present at the fair to observe first Jalebi, an Indian sweet made of a coil of batter fried and steeped in syrup, coming out from the make-shift shops that sprang up overnight. Unraveling the mystery of puppet dance has taken a few springs...

I have made an honest attempt this year to write a series of short stories reflecting back the life in a small town 40 years ago. Some of my stories (  my mother’s stories hold Father’s tiki Bell  ,   my Childhood Ghost story   ) revolved Around PRESENCE of mystical trees Like Bamboo, Wood Around us Apple. And in association of Ghosts or atma of different times morning, noon and night, they indeed created a heady cocktail! A plump old Woman and her intriguing attachment with a tree (  drumstick tree and an old Woman’s Voice  ) with a left wondering Me FEW unexplained facts of life. And not to forget all these magical moments which defined our existence and enriched us during our growing up period. Durga Puja (  Durga in my house  ) But It Was Was less about enjoying more about observing rituals half day of fasting, listening to So Much Devotion with Mantra Chant The priest, taking in Pride during bell Ringing The Evening Aarti others...