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Mouri Bandhakopi

A close friend sends me a gorgeous cabbage from her garden this morning. It’s not easy to grow ...

One autumn evening, Bapi brings home a pair of binoculars. A childhood friend of his had been ...

Grandma carefully pulls out an old Britannia tin, the colours faded with age, the surface dimpled ...

It’s a gorgeous autumn morning. The nimbus clouds that had usurped the heavens above and scarred ...

Every now and then, I pause my game of hopscotch, dart to the ancient iron gate, embellished lately ...

Wave after wave lashes the shore. With a monotonous predictability that only Nature can ...

Summer vacations have just started. Days are scorching, Grandma discourages me from venturing ...

A wicker basket laden with luscious plump oranges greets me this morning. The grey winter man, a ...

Dada loathed vegetables and greens in his growing-up years. I was less of a rebel, although I do ...

Dida's days were busy, helping in cooking and cleaning, fussing over the the GuhaThakurta kids and ...

And so Dada and I set out, one golden autumn morning, gorgeous sunshine bathing the metropolis, ...

Thursday mornings are special. The otherwise sleepy house in the time-stops-still hamlet of ...