Somrwita Guha

What was your favorite book as a child?

If I had to choose a favourite childhood book, it would be Through the Looking-Glass by Lewis Carroll. As a child, I was captivated by its whimsical absurdity — a world brimming with curious characters, playful language, and delightful nonsense. Back then, it felt like pure imagination, free from rules or explanations.

What makes this book truly special to me is how it changes each time I return to it. I try to reread it every five years, and with each reading, new meanings surface. When I revisited it at twelve for the third time, one scene stood out: the characters running simply to stay in the same place. Earlier, it had seemed amusing and strange. That year, however, it reminded me of a classmate who consistently ranked first and had to work tirelessly just to maintain her position. The scene suddenly felt symbolic, reflecting the effort required merely to keep up.

Since then, every rereading has revealed insights I had previously overlooked. It has been a few years since my last visit to Wonderland, and I think it may be time to return once again.

What was the original reason or motivation why you started writing creatively?

The original reason I started writing creatively is closely tied to why I began reading. I was diagnosed with bronchial asthma at a very young age, so sports and many physical activities were off limits. As a child, I found my refuge in books. Fiction never failed me — it offered a world where I wasn’t limited or fragile. Reading voraciously sparked an almost selfish desire to imitate. That’s when I started writing creatively.

Writing became a way to escape whatever made me feel inadequate, sickly, or different. Through words, I began to make sense of the world and of myself. Writing helped me wrestle with my thoughts, understand my emotions, and find peace with who I was becoming. In a way, the written word cured me. Although I have been writing for nearly twenty-five years, it wasn’t until last year that I felt comfortable enough to write creatively with the intention of publishing. The asthma is now fully cured, but the motivation to write has only grown stronger. What began as a refuge has become a lifelong pursuit, shaping how I perceive and express the world around me.

What was the most adventurous or thrilling thing you ever did/experienced?

My idea of thrill is inward, following my characters into their deepest and darkest corners. But if I were to define adventure the way most people do, the bungee jumping, sky diving sort, it would be trekking in the Himalayas. I remember small mountain villages and snow-covered trails. The Himalayan range looked like waves frozen at impossible heights, as if someone had said, “Tathastu,” a Sanskrit word meaning, “So be it,” and the motion stopped. That landscape was humbling. I sometimes imagine a desk overlooking those peaks, but I don’t think I would be able to write very well with that view. It is a romanticism better left unfulfilled. For me, the truest adventure is still writing itself, sitting at my desk and exploring my mind's own wilderness.

Do you listen to music while reading or writing?

I need some form of white noise when I write. Depending on my mood, I listen to the sound of rain, waves crashing, or a crackling fire. I put on my earphones and start writing, and over the past few years, this has been how I’ve written every word. While I love music, I set aside a separate time for it. What moves me most in music is not the tune or the beat, but the lyrics. To truly absorb them requires full attention, which is why I can rarely listen to music while writing — the words would simply distract me. Every now and again, I do listen to instrumental or classical music while writing, such as Mozart, Bach, or instrumental versions of Rabindra Sangeet, the songs composed by Rabindranath Tagore.