Fuchka or Phuchka is the Leonardo Da Vinci painting of our Bengali Food Paradise. We eat it, we admire it, we even know the ingredients perfectly but still cannot decipher the real mystery behind that perfect outcome. Grandmothers, of course, have their own interpretation of the mystery behind the perfect taste. From the ‘dirty hands’ of the Phuchka seller to the supposedly ‘nordomar jol’ (water from the sewage) that is...

Krishna is God. Krishna is human. He is that God who hardly invokes a sense of wrath or fear. Think of Krishna and the image that would come to the mind would be of a serene face. And amidst that serenity, that hint of naughty smile mildly touching the corner of his lips – like dewdrops kissing the blade of grass. A God, whom you can easily imagine with a...

The deep-cut mark above your left eyebrow is his ‘gift’. The forever red marks in three subjects in your report card in because you were too busy whispering answers to him than writing your own paper. He is your collage of memories – kite-flying sessions, stolen pickles, first love letter, Kishore Kumar…. She is the one who taught you how to etch names on the bench with a compass. Your...

“Tadaa…look here” Dimli pointed to her round-necked T-Shirt to Sandeep. Before Sandeep could read the caption on her T-Shirt, she made a swirl-around and announced, "Independence Day special, bro”. Sandeep lifted up his eyebrows in a mischievous grin and said: “And now tadaa…guess who is here?” Dimli looked at his face. That little grin of mischief was still plastered to the corner of his lips. “No”, she said, exasperated. “Yes”,...