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21/12/2025

This evening didn’t bring any story worth telling. No calls that changed things. No news that stayed in the mind. I ate quietly, switched off a light, and sat for a while doing nothing in particular. For a long time, I thought evenings needed to feel productive — plans made, thoughts sorted, futures imagined. Lately, I’m less convinced. Some evenings are simply meant to pass without leaving marks. The body slows down. The mind wanders and then settles. Outside, a few windows stay lit. Somewhere, someone laughs and then stops. Nothing important happens, and somehow that feels important. Not every day needs a takeaway. Some days just need an ending.

Rajat Chandra Sarmah
Guwahati, Assam, India
Instagram@rajatchandrasarmah5
YouTube@conversewithasmile

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21/12/2025

Bagan lies in central Myanmar, spread across open land where thousands of temples stand quietly, without fences or drama. This isn’t a museum arranged for visitors. People live here. Children cycle past old brick structures. Farmers work fields beside buildings that have stood for centuries. What people are proud of is not how old Bagan is, but how normal it still feels to them. The temples are not treated as distant relics. They are part of the landscape, like trees or roads. Life goes on around them without ceremony. There is no rush to modernise everything, no attempt to compete with louder destinations. Bagan survives through continuity. For the people who live nearby, that steadiness matters more than attention. History here doesn’t interrupt daily life. It simply exists alongside it.

Rajat Chandra Sarmah
Guwahati, Assam, India
Instagram@rajatchandrasarmah5
YouTube@conversewithasmile

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21/12/2025

Sunday mornings once felt like borrowed time. No urgency to prove anything. No one expected replies. The day stretched slowly, almost lazily. I remember waking up and knowing nothing important would happen — and feeling relieved about that. These days, even Sundays carry weight. Messages arrive early. Plans sneak in. Still, once in a while, the old feeling returns. When the house is quiet. When the street hasn’t fully woken up. When you sit with tea and don’t rush to fill the silence. I don’t try to recreate those mornings anymore. I just notice when they appear. Even briefly. That pause — that small gap — is enough to remind me that life doesn’t always need momentum. Sometimes it just needs permission to slow down.
Rajat Chandra Sarmah
Guwahati, Assam, India
Instagram@rajatchandrasarmah5
YouTube@conversewithasmile

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20/12/25

Evenings feel heavier than mornings.
Not because they are sad — because they carry everything you didn’t say.
By night, the body slows but the mind doesn’t.
Old conversations return.
Small regrets knock softly.
I sometimes think evenings are not meant to fix anything.
They are meant to let you sit with it.
Without judgement. Without plans.
A cup of tea.
A light on in another window.
A dog sleeping without worry.
That’s enough company for one night.
Tomorrow can wait.

Rajat Chandra Sarmah

Guwahati, Assam , India

@ All rights reserved by the author

20/12/2025

Flores Island lies in eastern Indonesia, far from the noise people usually chase.
Most don’t know it by name. That’s its strength.
Here, the land feels older than ambition.
Volcanoes rise without drama. Villages move at their own pace.
The sea doesn’t perform — it simply exists.
People live close to routine: fishing, farming, fixing roofs before rain.
No hurry to impress. No urge to sell a dream.
You walk through Flores and realise something uncomfortable —
not everywhere is trying to be discovered.
Some places are content being lived in.
And maybe that’s why they stay with you longer than postcards ever do.

Rajat Chandra Sarmah

Guwahati , Assam , India

@ All rights reserved by the author

20/12/2025

Morning has a strange honesty.
Your phone is still quiet. The world hasn’t started asking yet.
For a few minutes, you belong to yourself.
I remember mornings when nothing was urgent.
No plans. No pressure.
Just a window, a sky doing its own thing, and time moving slowly.
Life later taught us speed.
Deadlines. Noise. Explanation.
But mornings still try — every day — to bring us back.
Not with advice.
Not with motivation posters.
Just with a simple question:
How do you want to enter today?
Some days, that answer is silence.
And that is enough.

Rajat Chandra Sarmah

Guwahati , Assam , India

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19/12/2025

I once told a friend I was tired, properly tired. He didn’t try to cheer me up. He just said, “Then don’t fix everything tonight.” It sounded simple, almost careless, but it stayed with me. Evenings have a way of turning small worries into big ones if we let them. After a long day, the mind keeps replaying conversations, decisions, things left undone. Tonight, I’m trying to let a few things remain unfinished. The dishes can wait. The reply can wait. Tomorrow will come whether I prepare for it or not. There’s a quiet relief in allowing the day to end without closing every loop.

Rajat Chandra Sarmah
Guwahati, Assam, India
Instagram@rajatchandrasarmah5
YouTube@conversewithasmile

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19/12/2025

In Luang Prabang, Laos, mornings begin without hurry. Shops open when they open. People sit outside with tea, watching monks pass in silence. A visitor once asked a shopkeeper why everything felt so unplanned. He smiled and said, “We already know what today will look like.” That calm certainty is something people here take pride in.

The town has temples, old houses, and a river that keeps its course, but what matters most is routine. Meals follow familiar timings. Faces are recognised. Change arrives, but slowly, and on local terms. Luang Prabang does not try to compete with bigger cities. It continues as it has for years. For the people who live here, that steadiness is enough.

Rajat Chandra Sarmah
Guwahati, Assam, India
Instagram@rajatchandrasarmah5
YouTube@conversewithasmile

All rights reserved by the author
19/12/2025

I woke up today before the phone did. No screen lighting up, no sound asking me to look at something. Just a few minutes of quiet where the day hadn’t decided what it wanted from me yet. I sat there longer than usual, not thinking much. The fan made its usual noise. A bird argued somewhere outside. I didn’t feel inspired or driven. I just felt present. There was a time when mornings were like this every day. Now they are rare, which is probably why I notice them more. I’m learning not to rush these moments away. Once the world starts asking questions, it doesn’t stop easily. This small pause feels like something worth keeping, even if it lasts only a little while.

Rajat Chandra Sarmah
Guwahati, Assam, India
Instagram@rajatchandrasarmah5
YouTube@conversewithasmile