I’m not sure where it came from but I suddenly imagine myself in a Bengali household. It’s an old fashioned Bengali home with a large verandah and a small courtyard where a huge neem tree stands tall. This room I stand in has a high ceiling, lined with heavy beams. There are two large windows with green shutters. A big, wooden almirah is tucked at the far corner; its glass doors flaunt nicely stacked books. Old books. I walk towards it and the first book I see is probably Datta, as my very limi...