Journaling
Events and happenings that I come across any fine day…
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It wasn’t born from one of those impulsive evening conversations over tea—the kind where wanderlust strikes and you’re on the road by dawn. No, this journey had quietly taken shape in the minds of my brother-in-law and his wife, a young couple with an itch for the hills. And me? I was the designated driver,…
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The old Santro Xing hummed along NH-60, my wife beside me, both of us still carrying the dust of Ayodhya Hills on our clothes and the weight of the city we’d fled just days ago. Kolkata’s festive chaos during Durga Puja had become too much—the tunnel of humanity, the relentless noise, the fuel prices that…