Loneliness is not merely the absence of people; it is the absence of receptive presence. The lonely person indeed looks for someone to share feelings with. But the paradox is this: one can have many listeners and still be lonely, and one can have very few and feel held. That is where adda becomes important. The adda joint was never just a physical space; it was a psychological refuge. It allowed emotions to spill without demanding resolution. Home, often demands roles, wherea

People who share their feelings with everyone are often labelled as lonely, but that may be a simplification. Loneliness is not merely the absence of people; it is the absence of receptive presence. Some speak a lot because they have no one who listens deeply; others speak because they have learned that articulation itself is a form of companionship. Sharing is a habit of thinking in the open. The lonely person indeed looks for someone to share feelings with, but the paradox

A classroom is one of the few spaces where mistakes are not moral failures but learning events. Where listening matters as much as speaking. In a classroom, we rehearse patience, humility, empathy, and dignity. It is a space that teaches how to accept guidance without surrendering autonomy. Some classrooms matter even when syllabi become obsolete. The content may age but the practice of being together does not.

The longer one stays in the laboratory, the more committed to research one is assumed to be. Some believe enjoyment and rigour are opposites. This confusion arises when effort is mistaken for insight, endurance for originality, and conformity for discipline. Things are changing. Workplaces are becoming more diverse, and it is increasingly evident that those who were good at something beyond their formal training adapt better. The ability to shift perspectives has become a pro

Mornings are my lifelines. Through this lifeline, I feel like connecting. I feel like sharing. My mornings begin a little late. I have seldom seen the rising sun. Yet whenever I wake, I feel a new day waiting for me. It tells me that time is a companion, not a clock. A clock divides life into units and expects each unit to justify itself. When time is a companion, it walks beside me. It understands pauses. It allows detours and moments of stillness. In my morning hours, time

I visited Kolkata for the first time in 1961. I came with my Didima. Kolkata, for me then, was cinema and natok. It was Rabindranath’s birth centenary year. I watched Teen Kanya and Tripti Mitra’s Setu. We stayed with one of our maternal uncles. Our house stood next to Dilip Mukherjee’s. He looked like an ordinary neighbour, not a film star at all. His ordinariness stayed with me longer than his films. That was also the only time I saw a Bengal village with pukur, aam and jam

Live music is the music that never dies. Some songs grow older, and yet remain forever young. Let me go back to my school days. When I passed High School, my grandmother gifted me a Roamer watch. She also decided to buy for the family a record player. My elder brother (my eldest maternal uncle’s son, and incidentally a good singer) and I were entrusted with the responsibility of procuring it. There were not many HMV stores then. There were not many models either. We chose one

The first course I was assigned to teach was Mass and Energy Balance for second-year chemical engineering students. This reminded me of an incident that happened years ago. After completing my MTech, I appeared for an interview at a prestigious research organization. It was the best interview I ever faced. There were many candidates, yet there was no chaos. I was calmly told which room to go to. The committee consisted of five members. After the usual formalities, one of the

My first job had a dramatic beginning and an equally dramatic end. I was doing my PhD. Two and a half years had passed, and I felt I would not be able to complete it. My confidence was low, though there was no real reason for it. My progress was good, and I already had material ready for publication. Around that time, I got a job offer that was far below my academic background. Still, I accepted it. As a first job, it was extremely challenging. I was entrusted, along with a f

The first batch of the Five-Year Integrated M.Tech in Biochemical Engineering and Biotechnology at IIT Delhi was special. The programme was new—conceived by Prof. Tarun K. Ghose. We ran it with hope more than certainty. Students joined without knowing what the future held. There were no precedents, no guarantees. Yet, perhaps because of that very uncertainty, we received some of the most committed students. They took it upon themselves to make the programme a success. The fac

Today, the familiar script of education is being questioned. More young people want to skip college and go straight to the job. This shift is the result of several tectonic forces reshaping the landscape of work and learning. Higher education has become for many a tunnel of debt. They ask: Is it sensible to borrow heavily for a degree when the job market no longer rewards it proportionately? The skill-first economy has arrived. Degrees are no longer passports; skills are. Man

Destiny, perhaps, is desire directed by the environment. Our surroundings shape the trajectories of our wants. In the intersection of what we hope for and what the world allows us to imagine, our path quietly emerges. Reason, however, cannot open every door. One may examine every possibility, take every careful step, and still arrive at a place never intended. Destiny enters through the doors we believed we had firmly sealed with reason. And when the doors of reason finally s

This morning I thought of one of Raj Kapoor’s films, Jagte Raho. We move through life much like the wanderer in that film: not seeking a destination, but seeking a justification for our movement. What we desire is rarely clear; what pushes us forward is often only the discomfort of standing still. From one door to the next, from one promise to another, we hope that the next encounter will validate our existence, that someone will recognise us without suspicion. Yet every thre

In the quiet of aloneness, one hears the low hum of one’s own thoughts, the unsaid stories that rise from within. The silence of aloneness nourishes the soul. In such quiet, one meets those who have gone yet not gone, who return without footsteps, whose voices speak without sound. They remind us that presence does not always need a body, and memory is a door that never fully closes. A quiet meal can be quite sumptuous. The silence sharpens every sense. One gentle bite not onl

Satyajit Ray's eyes searched for grace and the eloquence of silence in the ordinary. He framed truth with compassion, letting light fall gently on human frailty. Mrinal Sen’s gaze was fire. His eyes saw the tremor beneath the pavement. He showed raw and restless truth. His mind, always questioning. Ray described his workplace: “The studios show their hallowed past in every crevice on the wall, in every tatter of the canvas that covers the ceiling… The floor is pitted, the c

The butterfly sways because nature has gifted it wings light enough to flirt with every breeze. Its path is a zigzag of joy, uncertainty, and elegance. It moves as if direction is secondary. A butterfly’s flight is freedom expressed in motion. Johnnie Walker - a few sips, and the world begins to tilt, steps lose their gravity. The body insists on straight lines, but perception rebels. Here, freedom is a surrender to indulgence. Both cannot walk straight; one is uplifted by

Don’t reveal your age when you enter your second childhood. At that stage of life, the calendar becomes irrelevant. What matters is small pleasures. The generation gap exists only when curiosity dies. When we stop engaging with the world of those younger or older than us, the distance appears. When the mind remains open, the gap dissolves. Second childhood is to rediscover the wisdom of eating well, sleeping well, and living lightly. We begin to smile once again when we enter

Owners of dogs will have noticed that, if you provide them with food and water and shelter and affection, they will think you are god. Whereas owners of cats are compelled to realize that, if you provide them with food and water and shelter and affection, they draw the conclusion that they are gods." "The only time to eat diet food is while you're waiting for the steak to cook." "Your body is not a temple, it's an amusement park. Enjoy the ride." "How can you govern a country

Living is not a theory to be solved. It is an experience to be lived. Life is not a project. Be with someone you love and enjoy their company. You are not a seeker; you are already here. Speak—not to manage the listener’s attention, but to share what moves within you. There is no real promotion unless you feel promoted. There is nothing called “purpose” or “expected outcome.” You don’t need to be complete. Write simply for the joy of writing. If you like what you write, you a

About Satyajit Ray, so much has already been written, yet I must write about him to pay my respect to the greatest filmmaker of our time. I have known him through his films. Let me confine myself here to the Apu Trilogy — Pather Panchali, Aparajito, and Apur Sansar. The Story of Apu Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay’s Apu is so simple yet so honest. It is the story of a quintessential Bengali. At Nischindipur, on the Ichamati River, lived Harihar and Sarbojaya with daughter Durga,