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12 October 2026

Mongolia is a vast, landlocked country in East Asia, lying between Russia to the north and China to the south. Beyond its capital, Ulaanbaatar, stretches a landscape of open grasslands, mountains and desert, where seasonal changes can shape the rhythm of daily life.

For some Mongolian herding families, home is a ger—a round dwelling built around a collapsible wooden frame and covered with layers of felt. It is not simply a tent. It is a carefully adapted home, designed to be dismantled, transported and assembled again.

That makes sense in a place where families may move with their livestock in search of suitable pasture. A permanent building can tie a household to one location; a ger allows the home to travel with the people who live in it.

Inside, the arrangement has its own familiar order. The central stove provides warmth and a place for cooking, while the circular structure makes practical use of the available space. The thick covering helps protect the family from Mongolia’s severe winter cold and changing weather.

Yet the most interesting part may be the idea behind it. A home does not always have to be fixed to the ground to provide stability. The walls can be taken apart, the belongings packed, and the dwelling rebuilt somewhere else.

Of course, life on the steppe is not easy, and not every Mongolian lives this way today. Modern cities, schools, jobs and changing circumstances have transformed the country.

Still, the ger remains a powerful example of practical ingenuity: a home shaped around the needs of the people rather than the other way around.

Perhaps that is a useful thought to carry beyond Mongolia. We often spend years building a life around things that cannot move. There is something admirable about a home designed to adapt when life itself requires a change.

#Mongolia #NomadicLife #WorldCultures #RajatChandraSarmah

Rajat Chandra Sarmah, Guwahati, Assam, India, Instagram @rajatchandrasarmah, YouTube: conversewithasmile, email rajatchandrasarmah@gmail.com

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12 October 2026

Have you ever agreed to something and regretted it almost immediately?

It happens more often than we admit. A request arrives when we are busy, someone is waiting for an answer, and saying yes seems easier than explaining why we cannot. Later, we discover that we have taken on another responsibility, spent money we had not planned to spend, or promised time that was never really ours to give.

I have come to think that a small pause can save us considerable trouble.

Before accepting an invitation, agreeing to help or making a commitment, ask yourself three simple questions.

Do I genuinely have the time?

Am I agreeing because I want to, or because I am afraid of disappointing someone?

If I say yes, what will have to give way?

These are not questions designed to make us selfish. Quite the opposite. When we promise something we cannot reasonably deliver, another person may eventually pay the price for our haste.

There is also a difference between kindness and unlimited availability. We can care about people without being able to meet every request. A courteous, honest refusal is often kinder than an enthusiastic promise followed by an excuse.

Of course, not every decision allows five minutes of thought. But many do, and we rarely use that little space.

The next time somebody asks for an answer, you do not have to provide one immediately. It is perfectly reasonable to say, “Let me check a few things and get back to you.”

Five minutes will not solve every problem. It may, however, prevent you from creating one for yourself.

And there is a quiet freedom in learning that a thoughtful yes is worth more than an automatic one.

Rajat Chandra Sarmah, Guwahati, Assam, India, Instagram @rajatchandrasarmah, YouTube: conversewithasmile, email rajatchandrasarmah@gmail.com

There is an animal that leaves little cubes behind it.

No, it has not swallowed a box-making machine. It is the wombat, a stocky Australian marsupial that produces remarkably cube-shaped droppings.

For years, the unusual shape puzzled people. How does something formed inside an animal come out looking as though it has been cut into small blocks?

Researchers studying wombats found that the shape develops in the intestine, where different regions of the gut have different levels of stiffness and elasticity. As the material moves through the intestine, those differences help form the edges of the cubes.

Why should a wombat produce cubes at all? One explanation is that the shape helps the droppings stay where they are placed. Wombats use them to mark territory, often leaving them on rocks or other raised surfaces. A rounded object would be more likely to roll away.

It is a wonderfully odd detail about an animal that otherwise looks rather like a small, sturdy bear.

Nature does not always choose the solutions we would expect. Sometimes it produces something so peculiar that scientists have to investigate it before they can explain it.

And somewhere in Australia, a wombat is going about its business without the slightest idea that one of its most unusual habits has become a subject of scientific fascination.

There are days when the world needs no invention from us. It is already strange enough.

Rajat Chandra Sarmah, Guwahati, Assam, India, Instagram @rajatchandrasarmah, YouTube: conversewithasmile, email rajatchandrasarmah@gmail.com

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11 October 2026

Greenland, the enormous Arctic island between the North Atlantic and Arctic oceans, belongs geographically to North America. It is an autonomous territory within the Kingdom of Denmark, with its own language, culture and distinctive way of life.

In the fishing settlement of Oqaatsut, north of the town of Ilulissat, there is a simple fact that shapes everyday life: there are no roads connecting the village to the larger town. Boats are essential, and the sea is both a route through the landscape and a source of livelihood.

Imagine planning an ordinary journey without assuming that a car or a road will take you there. Weather, sea conditions and distance become part of every decision. A boat is not merely something to admire at the harbour; it can be an essential connection with the world beyond the settlement.

The village also stands close to the enormous icebergs that drift through Disko Bay, while fishing remains closely tied to local life. The colourful houses against the Arctic landscape make a striking picture, but the more interesting story is how people organise their lives in such a demanding environment.

Modern life has reached Greenland, yet geography still matters in a very direct way. The sea can connect communities, but it can also make travel difficult.

Perhaps this is what makes Oqaatsut worth thinking about. In a world where we often complain about a delayed journey, it offers a reminder that access and movement are not equally simple everywhere.

For some communities, the route home is written on the water.

#Greenland #ArcticLife #WorldCultures #RajatChandraSarmah

Rajat Chandra Sarmah, Guwahati, Assam, India, Instagram @rajatchandrasarmah, YouTube: conversewithasmile, email rajatchandrasarmah@gmail.com

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11 October 2026

A message arrives on your phone. It sounds convincing, perhaps even alarming. Someone you trust has forwarded it, and several people have already shared it.

Would you pass it on?

Most of us would like to believe that we are careful with information. Yet a familiar name, a confident tone or a large number of shares can persuade us before we have examined what we are reading.

There is a simple habit that can save us from many mistakes: pause before believing, and pause again before forwarding.

First, look for the original source. A screenshot without a link, a quotation without a name or a photograph without a date may leave out the very information needed to understand it.

Next, ask whether the claim can be checked elsewhere. If a report is important, reliable independent sources should help establish what is known. Be particularly careful when a message demands immediate action or tries to frighten you into sharing it.

Finally, separate what has been proved from what someone merely suspects. A confident opinion is not the same as a verified fact, and repetition does not turn a false claim into a true one.

This matters beyond social media. It affects our relationships, our decisions, our money and the trust people place in us.

We cannot investigate every sentence that crosses our path. But we can refuse to become the next link in the chain of a claim we have not checked.

There is no shame in saying, “I don’t know whether this is true.”

In fact, that may be one of the most responsible things we can say.

The next time a message urges you to share it immediately, give yourself permission to wait.

A few seconds of doubt can sometimes prevent days of regret.

Rajat Chandra Sarmah, Guwahati, Assam, India, Instagram @rajatchandrasarmah, YouTube: conversewithasmile, email rajatchandrasarmah@gmail.com

Imagine a predator catching a gecko by the tail, only to find that the tail has come away in its grasp.

The gecko is already escaping.

Many geckos can shed their tails when threatened. The detached tail may continue to wriggle, drawing the predator’s attention while the reptile slips into safety. It is a remarkable escape mechanism, although losing a tail costs the animal stored energy and regrowing one takes time.

The replacement may not even look quite like the original.

There is something almost comical about the whole business. The predator has caught something, the tail is still moving, and the gecko has disappeared. For a moment, the scene must be confusing for everyone except the gecko.

But nature has not handed it a free advantage. The animal must survive the injury, avoid further danger and spend energy rebuilding what it lost.

Still, the ability gives it another chance.

We often imagine survival as a matter of strength or speed. Sometimes it depends on a rather unexpected trick.

The gecko does not stop to mourn the missing tail. It gets out of danger first.

For a small creature living among much larger ones, that is probably the right order of priorities.

And if you happen to see a gecko on a wall tonight, remember: it may be carrying a spare plan, even if it is not carrying a spare tail.

Rajat Chandra Sarmah, Guwahati, Assam, India, Instagram @rajatchandrasarmah, YouTube: conversewithasmile, email rajatchandrasarmah@gmail.com

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10 October 2026

Denmark lies in northern Europe, south of Norway and southwest of Sweden, with Germany along its southern border. Beyond Copenhagen, the capital, there are smaller places where the country’s maritime past remains visible in the streets and houses.

Dragør is one of them. Situated on the island of Amager, close to Copenhagen, this old coastal town is known for its narrow cobbled lanes and low yellow houses. Many date from the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, when fishing, shipping and seafaring shaped the lives of local families.

The harbour was once a busy centre of maritime trade. Sailors travelled far from home, and families waited for their return. Some old houses even have small rooftop lookouts, reminders of a time when watching the horizon could be part of everyday life. Today, the harbour has a quieter character, with boats, local businesses and visitors sharing the waterfront.

What I find interesting about a place like Dragør is that history has not been kept behind glass. People still live among these old buildings. The streets are not merely exhibits; they belong to a living town.

Perhaps that is the real charm of such places. The past is not something to visit for an hour and then leave behind. It is woven into the ordinary surroundings of the present.

And sometimes, a quiet street beside a harbour tells us more about a country’s character than its grandest building.

#Denmark #EuropeanCulture #RajatChandraSarmah

Rajat Chandra Sarmah, Guwahati, Assam, India, Instagram @rajatchandrasarmah, YouTube: conversewithasmile, email rajatchandrasarmah@gmail.com

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10 October 2026

Some of the kindest things people do for us never become stories.

A person remembers that you have been unwell and calls a few days later. Someone notices that you are unusually quiet and stays beside you without demanding an explanation. An old acquaintance remembers a small detail you mentioned months ago, something you had almost forgotten saying.

These things are easy to underestimate.

We tend to remember the dramatic occasions when somebody helped us through a difficult time. Yet there are other moments when a person does something thoughtful without knowing how much we needed it.

I sometimes think that the finest test of a relationship is not what happens when life falls apart. It is what happens on an ordinary day, when there is no crisis, no occasion and no particular reason to make an effort.

Does someone still think of you? Do you still think of someone else?

As the years pass, we become better at recognising the difference between attention and affection. Attention wants to be noticed. Affection is often content simply to be useful, to be present, or to make another person’s day a little easier.

I remember that the smallest gestures can stay with us for years, sometimes long after we have forgotten the conversations that surrounded them.

Perhaps we should tell people when their kindness matters. We often assume they know. They may not.

And one day, when we look back, we might discover that the people who made life bearable were not always the ones who did the biggest things. Some were simply there, quietly, when we needed them.

Rajat Chandra Sarmah, Guwahati, Assam, India, Instagram @rajatchandrasarmah, YouTube: conversewithasmile, email rajatchandrasarmah@gmail.com

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9 October 2026

Imagine seeing a fish leave the water and begin moving across the mud.

Your first thought would probably be that something had gone terribly wrong.

Not if it is a mudskipper.

These remarkable little fish live around muddy shores, mangroves and tidal flats. When the tide retreats, they do not necessarily retreat with it. They move across the exposed mud using their fins almost like limbs.

Their eyes make them even more entertaining. They sit high on the head and can move independently, giving the mudskipper the appearance of being intensely interested in everything happening around it.

Some species can jump, defend territories and scramble over roots and other surfaces. While out of water, they are able to obtain oxygen through moist skin and surfaces inside the mouth and throat, which is why remaining moist is so important.

There is something wonderfully untidy about the mudskipper.

We learned as children that fish swim, birds fly and animals walk.

Then along comes this small creature, hauling itself cheerfully across a mudflat and making our categories look rather inadequate.

Nature seems particularly fond of exceptions.

Perhaps that is what makes it so difficult to become bored with the world.

Just when we think we understand the rules, something walks out of the water.

Rajat Chandra Sarmah, Guwahati, Assam, India, Instagram @rajatchandrasarmah, YouTube: conversewithasmile, email rajatchandrasarmah@gmail.com