Sandip Roy

1 week ago | htsyndication.com | Sandip Roy

New Delhi, May 3 -- As a child I visited Kashmir on a family vacation. I remember that trip well, the line of houseboats on Dal Lake, a thrilling cable car ride in Gulmarg, the pine trees and green meadows of Pahalgam. I don't remember if Baisaran, the site of the recent deadly terrorist attack, was on the itinerary. Perhaps it had not been developed as a destination then. For some reason no photographs have survived in the family albums. Perhaps it's just as well.

1 week ago | livemint.com | Sandip Roy

I remember that trip well, the line of houseboats on Dal Lake, a thrilling cable car ride in Gulmarg, the pine trees and green meadows of Pahalgam. I don’t remember if Baisaran, the site of the recent deadly terrorist attack, was on the itinerary. Perhaps it had not been developed as a destination then. For some reason no photographs have survived in the family albums. Perhaps it’s just as well.

1 week ago | happyproject.in | Sandip Roy

📅 2 May 2025• 📖 7 min read— By Dr. Sandip Roy. Narcissistic mothers see their daughter as a reflection and extension of themselves, not a separate and independently functioning person. These daughters spend most of their growing-up years servicing their mothers’ demands, putting their own needs in the background. As adults, many of them develop “mommy issues” like low self-esteem, difficulty setting boundaries, fear of rejection, and people-pleasing.

1 week ago | frontline.thehindu.com | Ilangovan Rajasekaran |Vaishna Roy |Sandip Roy

“Mahanagar was a disaster commercially. But Baba was very happy.”Satyajit Ray’s Mahanagar (The Big City) is now considered a classic, but when it was released in 1963, it didn’t set the box office on fire. Still, Ray’s producer, R.D. Bansal, remained unfazed, says his granddaughter Varsha Bansal, now an executive producer herself. The name R.D. Bansal is well known to Ray fans. “Presented by R.D. Bansal” appeared in the opening credits of many Ray films.

2 weeks ago | kalw.org | Sandip Roy

The other day my partner Bishan showed me a letter his mother had found. It was a letter addressed to him, from his father, written in Bengali, just a few sentences long, each sentence in an ink of different colour. Bishan must have been a little boy at the time and didn’t remember getting it. There was nothing of great importance in it. Just a father writing to say he would he home soon and promising to bring colour pencils.