@All right reserved by the author

Some lights exist only to reassure. They do not guide ambition or expose flaws. They simply remain on, steady and forgiving. Under them, conversations loosen and silences stop feeling awkward.
The body releases the day without ceremony. What was unresolved quietly accepts postponement. There is dignity in allowing things to rest unfinished.
Not every close one requires reflection. Some moments heal precisely because they ask nothing in return.

Date: 28/01/26

Rajat Chandra Sarmah
Guwahati, Assam, India
Instagram: @rajatchandrasarmah5
YouTube: Converse With A Smile

@All right reserved by the author

In Piran, the Adriatic shapes both livelihood and temperament. A local maritime historian explains that salt pans once dictated the town’s economy and its discipline. Precision mattered; excess ruined everything.
Venetian architecture remains not as spectacle, but as habit. Locals still navigate narrow lanes as their ancestors did, measuring life by tides rather than urgency. Even preservation here follows restraint—repair instead of replacement.
Piran teaches a subtle lesson: when work respects nature’s limits, culture learns to endure without noise.

Date: 28/01/26

Rajat Chandra Sarmah
Guwahati, Assam, India
Instagram: @rajatchandrasarmah5
YouTube: Converse With A Smile

@All right reserved by the author

Some chairs are not furniture; they are invitations. They wait without impatience, holding the memory of earlier pauses. When someone finally sits, the world seems to slow just enough to feel humane again.
Thoughts arrive one by one, no longer pushing. A sentence forms, then dissolves. Breathing becomes noticeable, not as effort but as presence. Nothing productive is achieved, and yet something essential is restored.
Life often improves not by adding movement, but by allowing stillness to complete its work.

Date: 28/01/26

Rajat Chandra Sarmah
Guwahati, Assam, India
Instagram: @rajatchandrasarmah5
YouTube: Converse With A Smile

@All right reserved by the author

Shadows stretch and retreat. Sounds soften, not because the world ends, but because it decides to breathe differently. Lights appear in scattered windows, each holding a separate continuation of life.
There is comfort in unfinished thoughts. The day does not demand evaluation; it asks only to be released. Fatigue and relief sit side by side, neither competing for attention.
Some endings are kind precisely because they do not insist on meaning. They close the door gently and let silence do the rest.

Date: 27/01/26

Rajat Chandra Sarmah
Guwahati, Assam, India
Instagram: @rajatchandrasarmah5
YouTube: Converse With A Smile

@All right reserved by the author

In Tallinn’s old town, patience is built into stone. A local cultural conservator once explained that the city survived not by resisting change, but by delaying it thoughtfully. Medieval walls still guide movement, compelling modern life to adapt instead of dominate.
Residents pass centuries-old structures without ceremony. Cafés operate inside buildings older than many nations. Estonia’s digital reputation thrives beyond these walls, while within them silence is protected with equal care.
Tallinn demonstrates a rare balance—innovation outside, memory inside—proving that progress can coexist with restraint.

Date: 27/01/26

Rajat Chandra Sarmah
Guwahati, Assam, India
Instagram: @rajatchandrasarmah5
YouTube: Converse With A Smile

@All right reserved by the author

Some windows do more than open to the world; they recognise who stands before them. Light enters without demand, touching corners that were ignored the previous day. Nothing extraordinary happens, yet something settles.
A chair remembers weight. Pages turn without urgency. The mind loosens its habit of rushing ahead. These moments do not motivate or instruct; they simply prepare a person to exist with a little more ease.
Not every beginning needs noise. Some arrive quietly and stay longer because they were not forced.
Date: 27/01/26

Rajat Chandra Sarmah
Guwahati, Assam, India
Instagram: @rajatchandrasarmah5
YouTube: Converse With A Smile

@ All right reserved by the author
Date: 26/01/26

After the formalities pass, something quieter stays behind. A sense of alignment. A reminder that freedom is not a moment, but a practice.
People return to their routines carrying an unspoken understanding. Rights exist because they are guarded. Unity survives because it is chosen repeatedly, not declared once.
No slogans follow them home. Just responsibility—subtle, persistent, inherited. The kind that does not demand attention, yet shapes behaviour.
Nationhood is rarely loud in private spaces.
It lives in fairness, restraint, and memory.
And that is how it lasts.

Rajat Chandra Sarmah
Guwahati, Assam, India
Instagram: @rajatchandrasarmah5
YouTube: Converse With A Smile

I was not selected ,

but the evaluation result brought smiles to me

@ All right reserved by the author
Date: 26/01/26

He spoke of India’s Constitution as someone who had studied it not in classrooms alone, but in district offices, village meetings, and court corridors. According to him, its strength lay not in perfection, but in accommodation.
Drafted in a newly independent nation marked by difference, the Constitution chose balance over uniformity. Languages, faiths, regions, and social realities were not flattened. They were acknowledged. The document allowed space for disagreement while insisting on dignity.
What impressed him most was restraint. Power was distributed cautiously. Rights were paired with responsibility. Change was permitted, but not impulsive.
Over decades, India has tested this framework repeatedly. It has bent under pressure, sometimes strained—but endured. He believed that endurance came from its original decision: to govern diversity with patience rather than force.
That choice continues to shape the country’s civic spine.

Rajat Chandra Sarmah
Guwahati, Assam, India
Instagram: @rajatchandrasarmah5
YouTube: Converse With A Smile

@ All right reserved by the author
Date: 26/01/26

The flag was folded carefully and placed on the chair, waiting. No instructions were given. Everyone in the courtyard already knew what to do.
A child adjusted the edge twice, not because it was wrong, but because it mattered. Someone remembered a story they had heard years ago, though they could not recall who told it. The memory felt shared anyway.
Nothing about the moment was grand. Yet it carried weight. The kind that comes from belonging rather than performance.
When the flag was finally lifted, it did not change the sky. It changed the people standing beneath it—slightly, quietly, enough.
Some symbols do not ask for applause.
They ask for care.

Rajat Chandra Sarmah
Guwahati, Assam, India
Instagram: @rajatchandrasarmah5
YouTube: Converse With A Smile