
When I wrote 2056: The Year of the Water and Fire, I imagined a Bengal where climate change was no longer an environmental issue. It had become a way of life.
This newspaper report made me pause.
It says that Kolkata now loses around 80 hours of sleep every year because of rising night-time temperatures. Think about that for a moment. Climate change is no longer confined to distant glaciers, rising seas or violent cyclones. It is quietly entering our bedrooms, stealing our sleep, affecting our health, our emotions, and perhaps even the way we think.
The future, I have often felt, rarely announces itself dramatically. It arrives in small, almost unnoticed ways.
A warmer night.
A little less sleep.
A little less patience.
A little more fatigue.
Until one day, we realise that what we once called unusual has quietly become normal.
In 2056: The Year of the Water and Fire, I explored what might happen when rising waters, stronger storms and changing climates begin to reshape not just our landscape, but our choices, our communities and our humanity.
Perhaps the greatest lesson is this:
Climate change is no longer about saving the planet. It is about preserving the quality of human life on it.
The Earth will endure.
The question is whether we will learn to adapt before adaptation is forced upon us.
