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author:

Instagram@rajatchandrasarmah5

Years passed, but Aman remained an unfinished chapter in Ananya’s life. She tried moving on, immersing herself in her career as a journalist, traveling to distant towns, and writing about strangers’ stories. Yet, every article she penned seemed to whisper fragments of her own heartbreak.

Unbeknownst to her, Aman’s life wasn’t untouched by their parting. He had married the girl his family chose, but love never blossomed. He threw himself into his work, climbing corporate ladders but leaving his soul behind. His nights were filled with what-ifs and a guilt that gnawed at him.

One evening, while sifting through old files, Aman found a box he hadn’t opened in years. Inside were letters he had written to Ananya but never sent.

“Ananya,

I chose wrong. Every day, I hope the universe lets me cross paths with you once more, to tell you how much I regret my choices…”

He had poured his heart into those letters, but fear kept him from delivering them. He knew she deserved better than his half-hearted courage.( To be continued)

RAJAT CHANDRA SARMAH

GUWAHATI , ASSAM , INDIA

26/11/24

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author:

Instagram@rajatchandrasarmah5

Ananya stood by the window of her quiet apartment in Bengaluru, staring at the rain cascading down in silver streaks. The scent of wet earth seeped into the room, bringing back memories she thought she had buried long ago. Her fingers trembled as they traced the rim of her coffee cup. Rain always carried the whispers of her past.

Twelve years ago, life had been simpler yet vibrant. She was 24, filled with dreams, laughter, and love. Aman had walked into her life during the monsoon season, drenched and exasperated as he tried to fix a flat tire in front of her neighborhood café. She had chuckled at his plight, offering him an umbrella as rain splashed around his feet.

“You think I need this now?” Aman had grinned, his dimples deep enough to melt her heart.

That chance meeting turned into shared coffee dates, long conversations about books and dreams, and eventually, love. Aman’s charm wasn’t in grand gestures but in the way he noticed the little things: her obsession with lilies, her favorite ghazals, the way she chewed on her pencil while writing.

But love is seldom free from complications.

Aman’s family disapproved of their relationship. He was expected to marry someone from his community, a girl handpicked by his parents. Ananya was everything his family did not want—independent, outspoken, and unrelenting. She didn’t fit into their expectations, and Aman, torn between love and duty, chose silence when it mattered the most.

The silence broke her.

When Aman left without a word one rainy evening, the world she had built around him crumbled. The rain became her enemy, each drop a reminder of the life she could never have.( TO BE CONTINUED)

RAJAT CHANDRA SARMAH

GUWAHATI , ASSAM , INDIA

24/11/24

• “BEHIND THE HEADLINES” BY RAJAT CHANDRA SARMAH

This is a work of fiction on investigative journalism , a thriller explaining the enormous courage of the journalist and the management to maintain the ethics of journalism and to bring the true story to the public. It needs a very high level of involvement and interety to create a headline . Lot of sacrifices , threat to the life at any moment , with all these , a true journalist collect information with most trying conditions and release to the people . no compromise on the ethics , management or political or other pressure did not work when the the journalist stake their life in search of news for correcting the wrong going on in the society.

In the heart of the busy metropolis, where the cacophony of car horns and the hustle of pedestrians merged into a symphony of urban life, the toiling people sweated unnoticed, with no one having time to look at them. All were busy, hurrying to destinations known only to themselves, traveling almost half the day to their workplaces and back, sacrificing family life in the process. Children grew up without the opportunity to consult with their parents, forging their paths alone, often guided by peers and the digital screens that replaced familial interactions.

Amidst this chaos stood a bastion of truth – the newsroom of The Chronicle. Here, dedicated journalists worked tirelessly to uncover and report the stories that mattered, shining a light on the issues that the city’s denizens faced, yet rarely had the time to articulate. The newsroom buzzed with the fervor of investigation and the quiet intensity of deadlines. Reporters, armed with notepads and cameras, ventured into the city’s nooks and crannies, determined to bring forth narratives that demanded attention.

The Chronicle’s newsroom thrived on the urgency of breaking news and the meticulous pursuit of truth. Veteran journalists mentored eager interns, sharing their wealth of experience and instilling a relentless dedication to the craft. Each story was a puzzle, a complex web of facts and narratives waiting to be untangled and presented to the public with clarity and precision.

The Chronicle served as the city’s conscience, a beacon of truth and integrity. Its reporters ventured into the city’s nooks and crannies, determined to bring forth narratives that demanded attention. They exposed the injustices faced by the common people, highlighted the struggles that went unnoticed, and celebrated the resilience of those who persevered against all odds.

But with each revelation came new obstacles and adversaries, each more formidable than the last. From shadowy figures lurking in the shadows to powerful interests determined to silence them, the reporters of The Chronicle found themselves facing threats from all sides.

Yet, undeterred by the dangers that lay ahead, they pressed on, driven by an unwavering commitment to uncover the truth and hold the powerful to account. For in the world of investigative journalism, where secrets lurked in the shadows and lies were whispered in the corridors of power, it was up to the brave souls of The Chronicle to shine a light on the darkness and expose the truth for all to see.

And so, as the sun set on the city skyline and the newsroom buzzed with anticipation, the stage was set for a tale of courage, perseverance, and the unyielding power of the human spirit. For in the face of adversity, the reporters of The Chronicle stood united in their quest for justice, ready to confront whatever challenges lay ahead and fight for the truth, no matter the cost.

SLIDE -26

Meghalaya , India

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author:

Instagram@rajatchandrasarmah5

At that moment, Arun recognized the universal bond that existed between fathers and their children—a bond defined by love, support, and the unspoken strength that often goes unnoticed. It reminded him of his own father, who had been his silent superhero, always there to guide him through life’s challenges.

As the workshop concluded, Arun felt a profound sense of fulfillment wash over him. He had created a space where stories could be shared, and connections could be forged. He realized that in sharing his journey, he had not only honored his father’s legacy but had also inspired others to celebrate their own relationships.

Years later, Arun stood before a canvas, the early morning sun filtering through his studio window. He felt a familiar warmth envelop him, a gentle reminder of the love that had always been his foundation. Today marked another milestone—his first solo exhibition in a prestigious gallery, an event he had worked tirelessly to prepare for.

As he finalised the last touches on his paintings, he couldn’t help but reflect on how far he had come. Each stroke of the brush felt like a tribute to his father, to the silent strength that had been a guiding force throughout his life.

The night of the exhibition was magical. Surrounded by friends, fellow artists, and members of the community, Arun felt a rush of gratitude. His heart swelled with joy as he shared his journey and the stories behind his work, each piece an embodiment of love, sacrifice, and resilience.

As he stepped back from the crowd for a moment, he caught sight of his father, standing proudly in the corner, his eyes shining with unshed tears. The sight made Arun’s heart swell, and he made his way through the crowd to reach him.

“Dad,” he said, voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for everything. I owe all of this to you.”

His father enveloped him in a warm embrace, their connection palpable and profound. “No, Arun. You did this all on your own. I simply believed in you.”

In that moment, Arun understood that the silent strength of fathers often lies not in grand gestures but in the unwavering support they provide—an enduring love that shapes us, encourages us to chase our dreams, and ultimately becomes a part of our very essence.

As the evening wore on, Arun felt a deep sense of fulfillment wash over him. Surrounded by those he loved and who loved him in return, he realized that the legacy of his father lived on through him, woven into every stroke of his brush, every story shared, and every heart touched by his art.

The exhibition became a celebration not just of Arun’s work but of the silent strength of fathers everywhere—those who love quietly, support relentlessly, and inspire through their unwavering belief in their children. It was a reminder that even in silence, love speaks volumes, and in that silence, fathers forge legacies that last for generations.

As the night came to a close, Arun looked out over the gallery, filled with warmth and gratitude. He felt a renewed sense of purpose, knowing that his journey was just beginning and that the lessons learned from his father would continue to guide him as he painted the next chapter of his life.( END)

RAJAT CHANDRA SARMAH

GUWAHATI , ASSAM , INDIA

20/11/24

SLIDE -25

THANKS YOU BLUE STAR

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author:

Instagram@rajatchandrasarmah5

“I want you to be happy, Arun,” his father admitted, his voice a quiet murmur. “I may not understand your passion, but I trust you. Just promise me you’ll work hard and never give up.” Tears filled Arun’s eyes as he realized the depth of his father’s love—a love that was patient, unwavering, and always there, even in silence.

With time, Arun’s art flourished, and so too did his relationship with his father. The bond that had been tested grew stronger, a tapestry woven from threads of understanding and respect. Arun began to see the sacrifices made by his father, not merely for a better life but for the chance for Arun to choose his own path.

One evening, as they settled in to watch a documentary about famous artists and their journeys, Arun turned to his father, excitement bubbling within him. “Did you see that? That’s what I want to do!” His father nodded, pride shining through his eyes. “Then go for it, son. Just remember, your journey is uniquely yours.”

Years later, as Arun reflected on those moments, he realized the profound connection that had developed. The quiet strength of his father, the unspoken love that resonated through every interaction, had shaped him in ways he was only beginning to understand.

As Arun sat on the balcony that evening, he picked up his phone to call his father. Their conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter and warmth. “Happy birthday, Dad,” he said, his voice rich with affection.

“Thank you, Arun. I’m proud of you,” his father replied, sincerity weaving through his words.

As the call ended, Arun looked out at the sunset, a symphony of colors dancing across the sky. He understood now that love is not always loud; it is often found in the quiet moments, in the sacrifices made without fanfare, and in the unwavering support that shapes us.

With a smile, Arun knew that no matter where life took him, his father’s love would always be a guiding light, a reminder of the strength found in silence and the enduring power of a father’s devotion.

As the years went by, Arun’s artistic journey blossomed in unexpected ways. He found himself not only creating beautiful pieces but also connecting with a community of fellow artists, each with their unique stories and struggles. Their shared passion transformed his art from a solitary pursuit into a collaborative adventure. He began to exhibit his work in local galleries, where his paintings resonated with viewers, often sparking conversations about the deeper emotions and narratives woven into his pieces.

One evening, during an art showcase, Arun found himself standing beside a large canvas that depicted a father and son sharing a quiet moment in a garden, the soft light of dawn enveloping them. As visitors passed by, he overheard snippets of conversation that echoed the emotions he had poured into the work. A couple stood nearby, commenting on how the painting reminded them of their own relationship with their fathers.

“I can feel the love in this piece,” the woman said, her voice tinged with nostalgia. “It’s as if you’ve captured a moment that’s often overlooked.”

Arun felt a swell of pride, knowing that his work was evoking feelings similar to those he experienced with his father. He realized then that art had the power to transcend generations, creating connections that bridged the gaps between individuals and their stories. It was a reflection of his journey, a manifestation of the lessons learned and the emotions felt.

As his artistic career flourished, Arun also felt the responsibility to give back to the community that had nurtured his talent. He began volunteering at local schools, teaching art classes to children who shared the same dreams he once held. In the classrooms filled with laughter and creativity, he often found himself reminiscing about his childhood and the moments spent with his father.

“Art is a powerful way to express who you are,” he would tell the kids, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “It can tell stories, share emotions, and even heal.” He encouraged them to explore their creativity freely, just as he had done years ago. Each class felt like a tribute to the silent strength his father had instilled in him.

One day, as Arun prepared for an exhibition dedicated to the theme of family, he decided to invite his father as the guest of honor. It was a moment he had envisioned for years, and he wanted his father to see firsthand the impact of his unwavering support. He spent weeks preparing, creating pieces that reflected the journey they had taken together. The day of the exhibition arrived, and Arun felt a mixture of excitement and nervousness as he awaited his father’s arrival.

When his father walked into the gallery, a proud smile spread across his face. Arun felt a rush of emotions as they embraced, the warmth of his father’s presence grounding him in that moment. As they moved through the exhibition, Arun shared the stories behind each painting, and with every piece, he witnessed the pride reflected in his father’s eyes.

“Arun, this is incredible,” his father said, voice thick with emotion. “You’ve captured the essence of our journey together. I never knew how much your art meant to you until now.”

“Dad, it means everything to me because it’s rooted in our shared experiences,” Arun replied, his voice wavering slightly. “Thank you for always believing in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself.”

As the evening progressed, they interacted with guests, and Arun felt a sense of fulfillment he had longed for. His father’s presence was a testament to the love and sacrifices that had shaped him into the person he was today. Arun found himself telling stories about the little moments—the quiet evenings spent working on projects, the weekend repairs, and the comforting words that had guided him through challenges.

By the end of the night, as the gallery emptied and the lights dimmed, Arun and his father stood side by side, gazing at the paintings that adorned the walls.

“I’m proud of the man you’ve become, Arun,” his father said softly. “You’ve turned your passion into something beautiful, something that speaks to others. I couldn’t have asked for a better son.”

Arun felt tears prick at his eyes. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you, Dad. Your strength, your quiet resilience—it’s what inspired me to find my voice.”

In that moment, they shared an unspoken understanding, a bond deepened by love and gratitude. The silence between them was filled with all the words they had never said, a language of connection that transcended the need for elaborate expressions.

As time passed, Arun continued to grow as an artist, exploring new styles and themes while remaining grounded in the lessons imparted by his father. He often returned to that initial canvas—the one depicting a father and son in the dawn light—and it became a focal point of his work. He painted variations of it, each iteration exploring different aspects of their relationship, capturing the nuances of their journey through love, conflict, understanding, and growth.

Arun also began to integrate his experiences into his art, using it as a medium to explore complex emotions and societal issues. He organized community art projects that encouraged collaboration and self-expression, believing that art could foster healing and understanding among individuals from different walks of life. The workshops were filled with laughter and creativity, echoing the lessons he had learned from his father about the importance of connection and support.

On one particular day, as he led a workshop focused on the theme of family, Arun encouraged participants to create pieces that reflected their own relationships. The room buzzed with energy, each stroke of the brush a testament to the power of vulnerability and honesty.

As he wandered around, observing the creations taking shape, he came across a young girl named Meera, her face scrunched in concentration as she painted a scene of herself and her father at the park. “What are you painting?” he asked, kneeling beside her.

“It’s us,” she replied, her eyes shining with pride. “We go to the park every weekend. He always makes me laugh.”

Arun felt a pang of nostalgia, remembering similar moments with his father. “That sounds wonderful. What does your dad do for you when you’re at the park?”

Meera’s face lit up as she recounted the playful games they played and the stories he told. “He makes me feel safe. He’s my superhero,” she declared, her voice filled with conviction.( TO BE CONTINUED)

RAJAT CHANDRA SARMAH 

GUWAHATI , ASSAM , INDIA 

18/11/24