The daily scripts were compiled and became the 'Katipay Brihaspati Dilipi'. That means not just the daily draft, but the same circle, not the daily talk in turn—diaries, diaries, diaries, calendars, journals, whatever you want to call these writings. One whose thinking confines itself to procedural practice—needs not to be told again and again how many bends the broad path of art!

When I realized what I wrote on the diary page, as if no one else could hear my depression or my happy time, only the guileless, fascinated audience.

It can also be said like this:

Today is Equinox or Thursday. For example, my 'Katipaya Brihaspati dinilipi' can also be called 'Katipaya Bishyudbar dianilipi'. Yet the same gloom still stands in the verandah of the madrasa. A sad day like the unstitching of a panchakali hat or a sad cry like ink smeared on the nib of a pen in Jubba's book pocket.

The diary pages are essentially self-talk—phone conversations, late-afternoon upsets, and sick-day celebrations. Napa tablet, soaked bread in plastic glass in the afternoon, Bakrakhani in the evening.

The book has been republished. Available at various online bookshops including Rockmarie. Cover: Pure silence
Body price: 200
Page: 128
Genre: Diary