The Rebelle blog

It's Christmas and I spent a lovely afternoon watching Piku. Long ago, my aunt watched this movie in a theatre with her son and daughter-in-law, and then telephoned me and said that Piku reminded her of me. This was around 2014, I think. I was so amused that I don't remember asking her what specifically made her say that from seeing the movie. Strangely, I never got around to watch Piku back then. Today was one of those holidays when a movie seemed to be a cosy choice for a lovely December afternoon. Calcutta exudes such a raw charm in the movie. I am just back from the city too. It was cold and wintry and raining for all the four days I was there. We took a short road trip through the city and onto the suburbs, 65 km from Howrah. It was 4:30pm and the skies were losing their light while the air began to get chilly. I feel like I hovered over myself now that I remember the visuals from the journey. Even today, when I close my eyes, all I see are the yellow cabs, red

Early in August this year, I went to a book exhibition with Shree and we spent a delightful four hours amidst all that treasure trove. That day, I had to let go off a few books including Ruskin Bond's The Writer on the Hill and I regretted it for a while.    Last Saturday, while strolling through the familiar lanes of Fort, I found myself walking towards Strand Book Stall and once inside, lost in its charm. To my delight, I saw a lone copy of Ruskin Bond's anthology of selected fiction and non-fiction nestled among Harry Potter's new shiny editions. Mr Bond shines from anywhere. Before anyone else came to claim it, I pounced on it and held it close. Many of the stories are from his books on Dehra and Mussoorie. I have read them all before, have them memorized since my growing years. His charm never fades away. December reads are always special.  This year is coming to an end. I can still recollect the first day of 2017 and how I spent it. Every single detail. Yet it d