The Madman

'You think I am mad, don't you?' No response. The old man smiled further, as if he was enjoying himself thoroughly. His wrinkled cheeks and forehead, showing his age, did not stop his eyes from shining, which were still young. He had the look of a an enthusiastic teacher, ready to share his knowledge willingly, while also willing to listen to others. Then he said, quite abruptly, 'How do you know that it is I who is mad, and not you?'

The Shooting Star

'Come on, Kaku, we'll be late!' said my six-year-old niece, Rupsa, to me, her paternal Uncle. 'Don't worry, Rupsa ma, we won't be late,' said I, addressing her in the traditional Bengali way of calling a young girl ma, mother. In reply, she pouted her lips. I was about to add 'we can't be late' … Continue reading The Shooting Star