Mone Pore Mon O Pore by Salman Habib [Hardcover]

Memory always burns—whether it stems from joy or sorrow. Time is the canvas of those memories, and lived life is the brush that paints it. Days pass, time crosses boundaries, and on the other side, memories quietly accumulate. A house, a balcony, a veranda. A sunburnt rooftop, a rain-soaked attic. Just like settled dust, an attachment forms to these things. When we leave a place, a tug is felt. The mind recalls a familiar room, the scattered bed and pillows, a half-open window. Perhaps, even then, droplets of water still fall from the tap with a gentle drip. One day, we must leave. People leave. And yet, we cannot let go of attachment. Attachment does not let go of us. It is a strange, tangled, and powerful glue—this thing called *maya* (affection or emotional attachment).