ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED BY THE AUTHOR

Date 16/04/2025

I once wrote a letter I never sent.
Then I wrote another. And another.

Over time, a shoebox in my cupboard grew heavier—not with words, but with everything I could never say.

To my mother: “I forgive you, even though I still cry alone.”
To an old friend: “I miss who we were more than who you are.”
To a version of myself: “You did your best. That was enough.”

We think unsent letters are failures. But they’re not.
They are rehearsals of healing.
Proof that we still care, even when it’s too late to show it.

That box still sits there.
I haven’t opened it in years.
But I sleep better knowing it’s full.

RAJAT CHANDRA SARMAH
GUWAHATI, ASSAM, INDIA

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Good morning friend and my dear readers .

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED BY THE AUTHOR

Date 15/04/2025

The world is noisy
but loneliness hums softer—
like the low fridge buzz
after midnight.

People pass by like seasons
in a place that never
knows snow.
I wave at shadows
they never see.

Even my plants
have learned to lean
toward the window,
away from me.

But still—
I water them gently.
Loneliness deserves green too.

RAJAT CHANDRA SARMAH
GUWAHATI, ASSAM, INDIA

You may follow me on:

📷 Instagram: @rajatchandrasarmah5
📧 Mail ID: rajatchandrasarmah@gmail.com
🌐 Website: www.rajatchandrasarmah.com
▶️ YouTube: conversewithasmile

https://www.youtube.com/@Conversewithasmile

Good morning My dear Friends and readers .

ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED BY THE AUTHOR

Date: 14/04/2025

They say there are six seasons in India.
But no one talks about the seventh—
The season named after someone you once loved.

It arrives unannounced. A sudden gust of wind carrying their perfume. A half-heard laugh that sounds exactly like theirs. A chill in April that makes no meteorological sense.

You find yourself rearranging furniture, only to realize you’re trying to erase memory.
You crave a dish you never liked before—because they once made it for you.
You scroll through photos not to see their face, but to remember your own when you were with them.

This season doesn’t show up on calendars.
But everyone has lived through it.

And survived.

RAJAT CHANDRA SARMAH
GUWAHATI, ASSAM, INDIA

You may follow me on:

📷 Instagram: @rajatchandrasarmah5
📧 Mail ID: rajatchandrasarmah@gmail.com
🌐 Website: www.rajatchandrasarmah.com
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The items below are

1&3 Are called japi ( Available in a lot of designs  )

2 is the most important cultural element of Assam called Gamosa ( Having a GI tag of Assam)

and the 4th one is called a xarai , made of brass , used to welcome visitors with respect . As you may see a bunch of betel nut is kept over the xarai and over it covered by the Gamosa .

THESE FOUR ITEMS ARE RESPECTED BY ALL THE NATIVES OF ASSAM AND HAVE GREAT HERITAGE .ALL THESE ITEMS ARE HANDMADE AND GAMOSA IS A HANDLOOM PRODUCT .

I AM TRYING TO SHARE SOME OF THE ITEMS OF THE ASSAMESE SOCIETY  FOR WHICH WE ARE OROUD OF AND WISH MY FRIENDS AND READERS A HAPPY ASSAMESE NEW YEAR .

ALL RIGHT TESERVED BY THE AITHOR

Date 13/04/25

I made tea today
the way you used to—
strong, no sugar,
silence steeped in every sip.

The cup was chipped,
but it held the heat.
Funny how grief
boils over
in the smallest of things.

The kettle whistled like a memory
I couldn’t unhear.
And I drank it all—
just to feel you
burn my throat again.

RAJAT CHANDRA SARMAH
GUWAHATI, ASSAM, INDIA

You may follow me on:

📷 Instagram: @rajatchandrasarmah5
📧 Mail ID: rajatchandrasarmah@gmail.com
🌐 Website: www.rajatchandrasarmah.com
▶️ YouTube: conversewithasmile

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED BY THE AUTHOR

Date 12/04/2025

There was once a man in our town who walked only in circles.
Every morning, without fail, he’d leave his house, take three right turns and end up back at his doorstep. Then he’d do it again.

Children called him mad. Adults called him lonely.

But one day, I stopped him. “Why don’t you walk straight?” I asked.
He smiled, eyes crinkling with something older than sadness.
“Straight roads take you away from home,” he said. “Circles keep you near what you’re still trying to understand.”

It took me years to realize—
He wasn’t mad.
He was grieving.

And sometimes grief doesn’t move forward.
It loops.
Over and over.

RAJAT CHANDRA SARMAH
GUWAHATI, ASSAM, INDIA

You may follow me on:

📷 Instagram: @rajatchandrasarmah5
📧 Mail ID: rajatchandrasarmah@gmail.com
🌐 Website: www.rajatchandrasarmah.com
▶️ YouTube: conversewithasmile

Good Morning Friends and My esteemed readers .