All rights reserved by the author

11/01/2026

Near Dakar, in Senegal, lies Lake Retba — often called the Pink Lake.
On certain days, the water turns soft rose, sometimes almost red.
Not because of magic — but because tiny organisms survive where few can.
People work here daily, collecting salt by hand.
The colour doesn’t impress them anymore.
Work does not stop for beauty.
The lake changes shade with the sun, the wind, the season.
Nothing stays fixed.
Lake Retba reminds you:
even harsh places create their own strange grace — quietly.

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

All rights reserved by the author — 11/01/2026

Nothing special happened this morning.
No sudden clarity.
No burst of energy.
Just an ordinary start — tea cooling faster than I drank it.
And maybe that’s the point.
Not every day needs to announce itself.
Some days quietly wait to be lived.
I didn’t rush.
Didn’t scroll much.
Just watched the light settle where it always does.
If your morning feels plain today, don’t fix it.
Plain is not empty.
It’s stable.

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

All rights reserved by the author — 10/01/2026

The evening arrived without ceremony.
No dramatic sunset.
No big realisation.
Just the day quietly folding itself away.
I thought of things left undone — then stopped counting.
The body knows when it has carried enough.
Evening does not need achievement.
It needs acknowledgement.
You showed up today.
That counts more than you think.
Let the lights soften.
Let the thoughts loosen their grip.
The day did enough.
So did you.

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

All rights reserved by the author — 10/01/2026

Far north of mainland Philippines lies Batanes — a group of islands shaped by wind, sea, and long patience.
Houses here are built low and thick, made of stone, not beauty.
Because beauty is secondary when storms arrive without warning.
The wind is constant.
The silence is not empty — it listens.
People here don’t rush conversations.
They watch clouds before making plans.
Nature has the final say.
Batanes doesn’t invite tourists loudly.
It asks only one thing —
that you slow down enough to belong, even briefly.

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

All rights reserved by the author — 10/01/2026

I woke up before the world did — or at least it felt that way.
No messages.
No urgency.
Just that quiet moment when the day hasn’t yet decided what it wants from you.
I sat on the edge of the bed longer than usual.
Not tired. Just unhurried.
Some mornings don’t arrive with plans.
They arrive with permission —
permission to take the day one step at a time.
If you are reading this early, know this:
you don’t owe the morning anything yet.
Let the day come to you.

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

All rights reserved by the author — 09/01/2026

By evening, the body carries things the mind forgot to log.
A half-spoken sentence.
An email not sent.
A small irritation that stayed longer than it should have.
Evening is not asking you to review the day like a report.
It is asking you to sit down.
The sky does not hurry into darkness.
Neither should you.
If nothing meaningful happened today, that is fine.
Breathing happened.
You reached here.
Let the night take over gently.
You are allowed to stop trying now.

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

All rights reserved by the author — 09/01/2026

Djenné does not shine.
It stands.
In Mali, West Africa, there is a town where buildings are made of mud — and rebuilt every year by the people themselves. The Great Mosque of Djenné looks fragile, but it has outlived empires.
Here, architecture is not permanent.
Maintenance is a festival.
Repair is community work.
Children pass clay.
Elders guide hands.
No one calls it heritage — it is just life continuing.
Djenné teaches something uncomfortable:
what we obsess over preserving often dies,
and what we care for together survives.
This place is not loud on postcards.
But it stays with you.

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

All rights reserved by the author — 09/01/202

This morning did not ask me to be strong.
It did not ask me to be productive.
It simply arrived.
I noticed the way light entered the room without permission.
The kettle took longer than usual.
Somewhere outside, a dog barked — not angry, just awake.
There was a thought about unfinished things.
I let it pass.
Some mornings are not for fixing life.
They are for standing still long enough to realise
nothing is chasing you.

If today moves slowly, let it.
Not every day needs momentum.
Some days just need presence.

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

All rights reserved by the author
08/01/2026

I’m not looking back at today.
Not because it was bad — but because I don’t want to analyse it.
Some evenings deserve to pass without commentary. Earlier, nights were like that. We didn’t review them. We let them fade while sitting around, doing nothing important.
Now we replay days in our heads, searching for meaning, mistakes, improvement. It’s exhausting. The day has already ended — why keep it awake inside us?
If tonight feels heavy, don’t carry explanations to bed. Let the day remain unfinished. It doesn’t need closure from you.
Turn off what you can. Leave the rest unresolved.
Tomorrow will arrive whether today makes sense or not.
That’s permission enough to rest.

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

All rights reserved by the author
08/01/2026

Deep in Southeast Asia, shared by Malaysia and Indonesia, Borneo’s rainforest stands older than most ideas we carry about progress.
This forest does not impress loudly. It simply continues. Trees rise without symmetry. Rivers change their minds. Animals appear and vanish without explanation. Life here has never been in a hurry.

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People living around the forest respect this patience. They don’t try to dominate it — they negotiate with it. The pride here comes from endurance, not control.
Borneo reminds us that growth does not always mean expansion. Sometimes it means staying alive quietly, without applause, for centuries.
In a world obsessed with speed, this place offers a different achievement — survival without noise.
And that, perhaps, is the rarest success of all.

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