সুপ্রিয় চৌধুরীর দ্রোহজ

The old neighborhood of North Kolkata suddenly vanished from Sudipta's life one day, just like that. Gone was the nursery school of dreams. They moved straight to Dumdum, and with it, a new school in Shyambazar. Around this time, the city began to breathe fire. Slogans like "Turn the seventies into the decade of liberation" were being written on walls. Neither Sudipta, nor his father, elder brother, or friends could escape—or perhaps didn't want to escape—the heat of this rebellion. It was a time like a flowing stream of molten lava: bombs, bullets, guns, encounters, ambushes. Corpses lying here and there. The seventies bid farewell at the cost of many lives and much destruction. And then, the peace of a crematorium. Yet, did a smoldering fire continue to burn somewhere, a suppressed flame awaiting a new beginning?