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Date: 13 November 2025

Evening arrives like a patient guest who will not be rushed: it opens the door, removes its shoes, and sits. The light softens into something apologetic and generous at once, and the city exhales in measured, visible relief. This hour asks less of us and gives more — a slowing of voice, a permission to forget the list of tasks, a place where small kindnesses look larger. We sit with a cup cooling in our hands or a streetlamp’s rounded halo and remember that endings can be gentle. There is a rare taste in recollection now: the small triumph, the avoided anger, the laugh that caught us unaware. Let evening be the keeper of these soft things so that tomorrow can begin better prepared. Close the day not with an inventory of failure but with a quiet tally of what survived the noise: patience, a single good sentence, the face of someone who stayed.

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

All rights reserved by the author.
Date: 13 November 2025

To call a French café merely a place to drink coffee is to miss how it holds a country’s soft philosophy. Here, the table at a corner bistro is a small republic: people arrive as individuals and leave as witnesses to one another’s stories. The ritual matters — not the speed but the manner.

Cups are cradled, newspapers folded with care, hands linger on spoons as if time itself were a companion to the cup. Conversations are layered: a low debate on politics, a laugh over an old film, a student reciting a poem, an old man drawing maps of memory on his napkin. These are public interiors — private thought made generous by being shared. The French pride in conversation is also a pride in listening: the patient art of making space for what another voice will bring. In that small exchange, ideas are tested gently, friendships are extended without hurry, and the city’s brittle noise is translated into something human. A café is where the ordinary becomes a rehearsal for belonging; it is where a nation practices civility and curiosity, one cup at a time.
Rajat Chandra Sarmah
Guwahati , Assam , India
Instagram@rajatchandrasarmah5
youtube@ conversewithasmile .

Rajat Chandra Sarmah
Guwahati , Assam , India
Instagram@rajatchandrasarmah5
youtube@ conversewithasmile .

I’m glad to share that my poem “After the Blast, Delhi” has been published today by The New Verse News (U.S.).

I wrote it the morning after the November 10th blast — a small attempt to hold that uneasy quiet that comes after chaos.

Grateful to the editors for including it.

Read here: https://open.substack.com/pub/thenewversenews/p/nvn-wednesday-after-the-blast-delhi

Rajat Chandra sarmah

All rights reserved by the author.
Date: 13 November 2025

There is a hush that arrives before the city remembers to move. Windows hold a dim patience; the pavement keeps the memory of night’s cool. In that small, luminous hour, the world feels very young — and we, for once, are only guests. This is not a time for grand plans, but for gathering slight things: a steady breath, the shape of a forgotten hope, the warmth that lives beneath panic. When we meet the day this way, we do not force brightness into being; we allow it to emerge around what already glows inside us. Let the morning be a gentle audit of the heart — what’s tender, what needs tending — and then step out: not hurried, but ready. The smallest decisions taken with attention often change the day more than the largest intentions made in haste.
Rajat Chandra Sarmah
Guwahati , Assam , India
Instagram@rajatchandrasarmah5
youtube@ conversewithasmile .

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Date: 12 November 2025

When the day starts to fade, don’t hurry it away. Let it unwind at its own pace. There’s comfort in small rituals — a quiet cup of tea, a walk by the window, or a message left unread till morning.

Peace doesn’t always arrive in grand gestures; sometimes it hides in the calm between two thoughts.

So tonight, smile without reason, breathe without rush, and rest knowing — you’ve done enough for today.

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

All Rights Reserved by the Author
Date: 12 November 2025

Ireland is not just a land; it’s a heartbeat wrapped in mist and melody. From Dublin’s cobbled charm to the windswept cliffs of Moher, every path hums a story. The Irish are deeply proud of their poets, their pubs, and their past — a blend of laughter and longing that defines their spirit.

The Blarney Castle invites you to “kiss the stone” and borrow a touch of eloquence. The River Liffey, flowing through Dublin, reflects more than water — it mirrors the rhythm of a resilient people. From the songs of Galway to the legends of Giant’s Causeway, Ireland feels alive with myth and memory.

Here, even silence seems to sing — softly, in green.

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

All Rights Reserved by the Author
Date: 12 November 2025

There’s something timeless about a person who refuses to give up — the one who finds strength not in victory, but in persistence. Each setback becomes a pause, not an end. Success, after all, is not about applause; it’s about showing up even when no one’s watching.

If today feels slow, don’t rush it. Let it breathe. Every step, however small, is a conversation with your dream. You may not see the result yet — but it’s being written quietly in your favor.

Keep walking. The spark that never sleeps will one day light the way.

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

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11 November 2025

I’m the Baobab tree, tall and wide,
Tourists take selfies by my side.
They call me ancient, wise, and stout —
But none ask how my roots turned out!

Once, I stood straight, proud, and tall,
Till the Creator flipped me, roots and all.
Now my branches look like roots on top —
It’s a hairstyle no barber would crop!

Elephants nibble, monkeys play,
Birds hold gossip meets all day.
One fellow even carved, “Love forever” —
But they split up — I’m stuck with it… clever!

By night, I sigh in the moon’s pale glow,
Watching stars wink — they come, they go.
The Falls still roar their mighty rhyme,
And I? I stand — one joke at a time.

So if you pass, do wave, don’t stare —
I’m just a tree with messy hair.

Rajat Chandra Sarmah
Guwahati, Assam, India
Instagram: @rajatchandrasarmah
YouTube: @conversewithasmile

All Rights Reserved by the Author | 11 November 2025

They call it Mosi-oa-Tunya — “The Smoke That Thunders.” When you stand before Victoria Falls, it’s as if the sky itself is pouring down. The Zambezi River, calm for miles, suddenly leaps off a cliff and roars into the gorge below with a ferocity that humbles you.

Mist rises like silver curtains, catching sunlight in trembling rainbows. Locals believe the falls have a spirit — and when the spray touches your face, you feel it too. The sound is not mere noise; it’s a pulse, ancient and alive, echoing through rock, water, and air.

Not far from the falls stands another legend — the Baobab Tree. With roots that look like arms reaching into the sky, it’s often said to hold the wisdom of the earth. In the soft heat of afternoon, its trunk casts a cool shadow where travelers rest and stories are exchanged. For centuries, the Baobab has watched over rivers, storms, and people — silent, enduring, unshaken.

From the Knife-Edge Bridge, the world disappears in mist — and for a few heartbeats, you’re between heaven and earth. Evenings here are magic. The setting sun paints the roaring waters in gold, and when night comes, the river hums under a million stars — the world’s oldest lullaby.

Rajat Chandra Sarmah
Guwahati, Assam, India
Instagram: @rajatchandrasarmah
YouTube: @conversewithasmile

All Rights Reserved by the Author | 11 November 2025

There are places where the earth doesn’t just exist — it breathes. Zambia is one such wonder. Dawn breaks not with alarm clocks, but with the soft rumble of distant drums and the call of unseen birds. The air feels ancient, scented with dust, river, and story.
Here, silence speaks. The horizon stretches endlessly, yet every breeze carries whispers of belonging. You start to feel small, not from insignificance, but from awe — that you’re part of something much larger, something wild and alive.
Take a pause today. Listen — maybe your heartbeat is not so different from that of the land.

Rajat Chandra Sarmah
Guwahati, Assam, India
Instagram: @rajatchandrasarmah
YouTube: @conversewithasmile