নামি অহা ৰ'দৰ নৈ, মোৰ দেহত প্ৰতি পুৱা......
Well, walking back the memory lane at this age (45+) and recollecting the feels and thrills of my fourteen-year-old self is both difficult as well as easy. And the reason why I need to make that journey today is simply the stuff that dreams are made of...No, it's got nothing to do with my first crush, or the school days or my life in general...Rather, it's about one feeling, one person, one emotion which has stayed with me over the decades, traversing the years from pigtails to the no-nonsense bun, from PCO to smartphone, from Fancy Bazar to Central Mall, from the neat school uniform to pleated block-print sarees, from being a daughter to a mother, and from being malleable to manipulative... It was sometime early in the year 1993, and I was on the way to Dibrugarh with my cousins in the night-super bus. For those who came late (literally!), our travel stories were synonymous with night-supers, that too without air-conditioning and music systems. And during ...
