There’s a strange kind of loneliness that doesn’t come from being alone. It comes from being surrounded—by notifications, by opinions, by noise—and still feeling like no one has really met you that day. I think a lot of us are carrying that feeling now. We live in a time that promised connection. We can reach anyone, anywhere,Continue reading “Alone Together in a Noisy World”
Author Archives: Patmaj
Where Words Heal: The Quiet Therapy of Poetry
For me, poetry is a quiet refuge—a place where my thoughts slow down, my emotions find words, and even in chaos, I can feel a sense of calm and understanding. Poetry has a quiet, almost invisible power. It does not shout solutions or offer quick fixes, yet it gently reshapes the way we feel, think,Continue reading “Where Words Heal: The Quiet Therapy of Poetry”
Nowhere Feels Like Home: Urban Alienation in Neil Diamond’s I Am… I Said
Nowhere Feels Like Home: Urban Alienation in I Am… I Said I Am… I Said by Neil Diamond is less a conventional pop song than a stark interior monologue—one that captures the quiet dislocation of a man suspended between places, identities, and meanings. Beneath its simple melody lies a deeply modern anxiety: the sense that even in aContinue reading “Nowhere Feels Like Home: Urban Alienation in Neil Diamond’s I Am… I Said”
The Evening
It was supposed to be an ordinary evening—one of those polite gatherings where conversations hover safely above the surface and laughter comes in practiced bursts. At their common friend’s apartment, the lights were warm, the music soft, and the air faintly scented with incense and something floral. He arrived late. Salt and pepper hair, neatlyContinue reading “The Evening”
Tupelo Honey
The song slipped into her before she recognised it. It was just a line at first—low, honey-warm, almost careless—floating out of the dim, half-forgotten café as Radhika walked past. She stopped mid-step, her breath catching in a way that felt both unfamiliar and deeply known. The world around her—the narrow street, the passing scooters, theContinue reading “Tupelo Honey”
Love, Returns
The first thing people noticed about Arjun was his hair—salt and pepper far too early for thirty-seven—but it only made his boyish face more disarming. When he smiled, his eyes caught light like glass wind chimes, bright and restless, as if youth had refused to leave him entirely. Mitali used to tease him about it,Continue reading “Love, Returns”
Two of Us
Kolkata always knew how to keep secrets. It hid them in the rustle of old trees on Southern Avenue, in the lingering smell of rain on tram tracks, in the way the Hooghly held reflections just a second longer than it should. And sometimes, it tucked them quietly between two people who made no senseContinue reading “Two of Us”
Things We Said Today
The first time it rained that year, Kolkata didn’t ask permission. It came down in a soft, silver rush over College Street, blurring bookstalls and tram lines, turning the air into something that smelled like wet paper and old stories. Arijit stood beneath a half-broken blue tarpaulin, holding two earthen cups of chai, waiting. RituparnaContinue reading “Things We Said Today”
The Sudden Disappearance of Arjun Basu
I. The Man Who Didn’t Fit On most evenings, Arjun Basu stood by the narrow balcony of his third-floor apartment in Ballygunge, watching the city slip into its neon-lit restlessness. Kolkata never really slept—it simmered. Honking cars, distant tram bells, late-night tea stalls, laughter rising from nowhere and dissolving just as quickly. At forty-six, ArjunContinue reading “The Sudden Disappearance of Arjun Basu”
Nameless Skies
The voice was familiar. Warm like winter sun on old skin. It came from a low-lit room in a small, sleepy town called Rewa, where time didn’t move. It sighed. Aman lived there. Fifty-four. Unmarried. Untroubled by it in public, disturbed by it in the shadows of his heart. He had grown to accept solitudeContinue reading “Nameless Skies”
Words are flowing out... 