It's raining hard outside.
Jhum rain.
Dark night
I am sitting face to face with the flame of the candle.
I have a lot to talk about with him.
The small house I am staying in now is on one side of the village path.
A bush bush a short distance away.
The bushes are swaying in the random wet air that has become the companion of the rain.
Big drops of rain are falling on the tent made of coconut leaves above my head.
Megh Ruposhi understands today that she is arguing with her beloved man and is crying profusely.
The flame of the candle on the table is swaying from side to side.
Menka, that dance is more beautiful than Ramvar dance!
Many days Saratchandra's "Datta" is not read.
I miss Naren and Vijay very much.
The old partisans are playing in the world of my imagination on this obsessive night.
In the cold air, two musk cubs are laying in the nightingale garden on the side of the verandah.
I want to go and wrap the soft bed sheet over them.