One last resolution
Sir — Another year will open with confident lists. But gym plans will fade, diets will pause and productivity apps will gather dust. None of this shocks anyone. New Year’s resolutions fail each year because daily life resumes at full speed by the second week of January. Work, family, weather, and fatigue take charge. Moral panic about self-improvement helps nobody, but a calmer approach may. This year could benefit from a single, practical decision. Make no resolutions at all. Skip the promises, avoid the guilt, and continue with ordinary routines. Progress, when it happens, rarely needs a date or fireworks.
Pinak Chakraborty,
Calcutta
End the debate
Sir — Indian cricket often struggles with managing transitions involving legends. Virat Kohli and Rohit Sharma now sit at the uncomfortable intersection of legacy and succession. Age remains a valid concern, particularly with a World Cup two years away. Fitness, workload and diminishing red-ball output cannot be brushed aside. Selectors also have a responsibility to plan beyond reputation. A clear pathway for younger players matters. Emotional attachment must not dictate selection. Respect for past achievements should coexist with honest appraisal, even when that appraisal leads to difficult, unpopular decisions.
Alok Kumar,
Calcutta
Sir — The debate around whether India’s two most celebrated batters still belong in long-term planning despite their age has divided the country. Public discourse around Virat Kohli and Rohit Sharma has turned impatient, even dismissive, after lean Test returns and sudden retirements. That impatience ignores recent evidence. Both players delivered decisively in the Champions Trophy and again in domestic cricket when asked to prove commitment. Silence from the leadership on selection policy invites speculation, confusion and unnecessary theatre around players who continue to win matches at the highest level.
Altaf Khan,
Mumbai
Sir — Performance remains the strongest factor in elite sport. Virat Kohli and Rohit Sharma have answered sustained doubts about their capabilities with runs in Australia, against South Africa and in the Vijay Hazare Trophy. These were not ceremonial appearances. These were competitive innings played under scrutiny. Demanding domestic participation, then discounting its outcomes, weakens the selection process. Consistency in criteria matters more than constant reassessment. If form, fitness and availability are the benchmarks, recent evidence places both batters firmly within contention for future one-day international assignments.
Anupam Neogi,
Calcutta
Powerful craft
Sir — The passing of Vinod Kumar Shukla marks the loss of a literary temperament that resisted urgency and spectacle. In a culture that rewards noise, he trusted attention. His prose and poetry stayed with ordinary lives and treated them with dignity. That choice shaped a politics without slogans. The silence left behind feels noticeable because his work trained readers to value pauses, not pronouncements.
Aranya Sanyal,
Calcutta
Sir — Vinod Kumar Shukla’s lyrical strength lay in rhythm rather than ornament. Even sentences of resistance carried cadence without rhetoric. Naukar Ki Kameez remains relevant because it captures inequality through intelligence, not outrage. Globalisation and infotainment have not dulled its force. That endurance suggests craft. It also suggests that restraint can speak volumes.
Ajay Tyagi,
Mumbai
Sir — Deewar Mein Ek Khidki Rehti Thi unsettled traditional expectations of the novel. There were no villains, no crises, no redemption arcs. There was attention. Raghuvar Prasad and Sonsi lived within the present, not as escape but as resistance. The insistence on ‘today’ slowed perception. That slowness challenged dominant literary frameworks, including Marxist readings impatient with stillness. The novel argued quietly that noticing itself can oppose violence without declaring war on it. Vinod Kumar Shukla will be missed sorely.
G. Dasgupta,
Calcutta
Charm fading
Sir — Salman Khan remains a singular case in Indian stardom. His brand is built less on craft and more on emotional allegiance. His appeal rests on goodwill, philanthropy and an image of loyalty that has survived scandals, criminal cases and repeated reports of misconduct. That endurance deserves examination rather than awe. Stardom of this kind reveals how cinema in India often values affect over accountability. The gap between the man and the myth has long been visible. The surprise lies not in its existence, but in how rarely it has mattered to his audience. But recent failures like Radhe and Kisi Ka Bhai Kisi Ki Jaan reflect more than bad luck. They signal exhaustion on the part of the audience and also an awareness that actors are humans who should be held accountable for their actions in real life.
Ishika Mukherjee,
Calcutta