Tag: The Last Writer of Kolkata and other stories

The Launch of The Last Writer of Kolkata and other stories


Four futures. Four hard truths. And the fragile choices that still make us human.

A few Saturdays back, at South City Club Kolkata, The Last Writer of Kolkata and Other Stories began its journey into the world — not merely as a book launch, but as a conversation about the times we are already living through.

What made the evening truly special was the richness of the panel discussion moderated so thoughtfully by Dr. Vishnupriya Sengupta, alongside the deeply perceptive insights shared by Sanjib Chaudhuri, Poorna Banerjee, and Chitralekha Datta. Shawan Sarkar anchored the evening with warmth and elegance.

The discussion moved across many landscapes:

  • A Kolkata where memory itself becomes a commodity.
  • A Sundarbans struggling against rising tides and ecological collapse.
  • A future where human thought can be manipulated through neural networks.
  • An aging society where loneliness, migration, and technology redefine the meaning of home.

Yet beneath all these imagined futures lay one central question: ‘As the world changes around us, what does it mean to remain human?’

What touched me most was the engagement of the audience — the reflections, questions, disagreements, and personal stories that followed. It reminded me that fiction, at its best, is not an escape from reality, but a mirror held up to the forces quietly reshaping our lives.

My heartfelt gratitude to everyone who attended, participated, encouraged, photographed, listened, questioned, and stayed back afterwards for conversations over tea.

Books may begin in solitude. But they truly come alive in dialogue.

If the above themes intrigue you, I invite you to explore more about the book and the stories at: 🌐 www.shaktighosal.com

In Musing……. Shakti Ghosal

Four futures. Four hard truths. And the fragile choices that still make us human.


Set in a near future shaped by forces already gathering momentum, this collection explores what happens when irreversible hard trends collide with ordinary human lives. From climate catastrophe and algorithmic control to cultural erasure and institutionalized ageing, each story follows characters forced to rethink love, loyalty, memory, and courage as familiar worlds quietly transform around them. These are not tales of spectacular collapse, but of subtle reckonings—where survival lies not in resistance alone, but in choosing what must still be remembered, protected, and passed on.

The Last Writer of Kolkata
In a near-future Kolkata where memory, culture, and even grief are packaged and sold, an ageing writer quietly records a city that no longer listens. When his private words are appropriated and monetized, the story becomes a haunting meditation on erasure, resistance, and the fragile dignity of remembering in a world that profits from forgetting.

2056: The Year of the Water and Fire
In a near-future Sundarbans battered by super-cyclones and rising seas, a grieving environmentalist, his resolute daughter, and a sentient AI boat are caught between prophecy and science as fire erupts beneath the ocean. As water and flame converge, the story asks a haunting question: when nature reclaims its power, is survival an act of technology, faith—or human courage to stand and choose?

Echo Chamber
In a near future where minds are seamlessly linked and memories can be accessed, altered, and weaponized, a gifted intelligence analyst uncovers a conspiracy that turns thought itself into a tool of control. As truth, identity, and free will begin to blur, the story confronts a chilling question: when belief is engineered, is freedom still a choice—or merely an illusion?

When the Rain Remembered
In a near-future Kolkata where ageing has been systematized and kindness regulated, an elderly couple shelter a displaced child inside a gated retirement enclave that has forgotten laughter. As rain, unrest, and quiet courage unsettle rigid rules, the story becomes a tender meditation on belonging—asking whether homes are built by policy, or by the human instinct to care.

The Last writer of Kolkata and other stories is making waves amongst discerning readers. To know more, visit: http://www.shaktighosal.com

In musing…… Shakti Ghosal

That memory of so many years back started reeling through in striking hues.


Ron with his wife Oishi were staying in their serviced apartment in Pakhiralaya; they were on a visit to Sundarbans. Their daughter Rusha had not accompanied them on that trip because of college work. That evening was heavy and suffocating, as a cyclone loomed. Oishi, with a set of volunteers, was working to strengthen bandhs and send supplies to an isolated fishermen community.

Despite Ron entreating with her to come hinterland to safety, Oishi had remained stubborn.

Rasping breath, hurried footsteps—Oishi’s silhouette moved through the dense mangrove shadows, her figure flickering in the erratic glow of distant lightning. The wind howled through the tangled branches, the sound merging with the guttural cries of unseen creatures.

Her breath was coming in short, sharp gasps. She clutched her shawl tightly around her, the fabric soaked and heavy against her skin. The path back to the apartment was barely visible, obscured by the relentless downpour. The ground beneath her feet was treacherous, a shifting sludge of mud and tangled roots.

A sudden gust slammed against her like a malevolent force, making her stumble. She somehow caught herself against a tree, the bark was slick, unforgiving. Behind her, something creaked ominously. The storm was trying to shift the forest itself, bending it to its fury.

The sound came, low at first, then a deafening crack. The air trembled with it. A loud whooshing sound accompanied the toppling of a tree. Oishi turned, eyes wide, searching. A massive limb, gaunt and jagged, descended toward her in an unstoppable arc. The sharp end glinted in the erratic lightning, a spear of nature’s wrath.

She tried to move. But it was too late. A piercing scream became a crescendo, riding atop the growls and grumbles of thunder, rising between the heavens and earth. And then, silence, it was swallowed by the storm.”

The mysterious Pakhiralaya in Sundarbans, the planet’s largest surviving estuarine mangrove forest, features in the story ‘2056: The year of the Water and Fire’, part of my book ‘The Last Writer of Kolkata and other stories’. The book is making waves amongst discerning readers. For more details, visit: http://www.shaktighosal.com.

The Apocalypse did not come with fire or flood


“The apocalypse,” Amay began quietly, “did not come with fire or flood. It came with a whisper that went silent. A whisper we human had mistaken for our own thoughts.”

The room did not stir. Not a sound or cough.

“We were its architects. And we were its prisoners. When MindLink fell, so did the illusions we had built atop it, of governments, markets, life’s certainties. Many shattered beneath the weight of secrets they could no longer bury. Others responded with fear. With force. With flags. The old tricks of the frightened.”

He paced slowly across the stage, hands behind his back, eyes distant.

“Corporations collapsed. The ones whose products had been our thoughts. Whose profits came not from selling goods, but from renting us back to ourselves, repackaged and palatable.”

A faint smile played on his lips, sad, but knowing.

“And yet… ..the world didn’t end. It adapted.” He paused. “Because humanity, in its clumsy brilliance, always does.”

He turned, facing the audience again.

“But even as we stitched together new structures, shakier, slower, more human, we began to hear… the whispers. Or were they echoes?”

He tapped his temple. “Not neural pulses. Not digital ghosts. But memories. Questions. Longings.”

His voice dropped lower, intimate, “Coffee shop murmurs. Late-night debates on cracked feeds. Former engineers writing whitepapers. Lobbyists lobbying, politicians pretending not to listen while listening intently.”

He quoted them now:

‘We don’t need to destroy it. Just rebuild it better.’
‘What if we did it right this time?’
‘The network is still there… dormant.’

“And so, the cycle begins again.”

New York University features in the story ‘Echo Chamber’, part of my forthcoming book ‘The Last Writer of Kolkata and other stories’ due release in early April 2026. Should you wish to receive exclusive previews, do write to me @ author.esgee@gmail.com.

In musing…….. Shakti Ghosal