'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?'
Category: Stories
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
The Last Drop
'Water. The soul of the Earth. The giver of life. Chemically a compound, essentially the element of existence. Water is described in textbooks as 'a transparent, tasteless, odourless and nearly colourless chemical substance', but that is a purely scientific and narrow minded approach, though now it is not much more than that. Once, water was … Continue reading The Last Drop