On Entropy and Old Kolkata Streets

Walking through North Kolkata feels like walking inside a slow equation. Buildings decay, paint fades, iron rusts. Physics calls it entropy — everything moves towards disorder. But strangely, inside that decay, there is memory. The old balconies, the narrow lanes, the sound of someone practicing Rabindra Sangeet — nothing is truly lost. Maybe life is like that. We think things are breaking apart, but they are only rearranging into something we don’t yet understand.