Dr Sabarna Roy (PUBLISHER)

As the first raindrops fall on the blistered pavements of Kolkata, washing away the stubborn dust of summer, the city slips into its yearly monsoon trance. But this year, the skies bear more than the promise of relief—they carry an echo of unease. The second edition of Mahanagar arrives at a time when the world teeters on the edge of conflict. War drums beat in distant corners of the globe, their rhythm intruding upon the quiet thunder of rainclouds gathering over the Hooghly. In this issue, we explore how Kolkata—a city that has always lived between nostalgia and unrest—responds to the monsoon not just as a season of rain, but as a mood, a memory, and a metaphor for survival in uncertain times.

The monsoons have long shaped the pulse of this city: trams halting in flooded intersections, lovers seeking shelter under shared umbrellas, street hawkers improvising with plastic sheets, and poets scribbling verses on foggy windows. But what happens when this lyrical melancholy is pierced by the sharp reports of conflict from afar? Through essays, stories, photo essays, and reflections, our contributors probe the duality of this season—how the water that nourishes also drowns, how the wind that cools also uproots. The narratives are deeply rooted in the lived realities of Kolkatans, yet they bear witness to the unease that global tensions have seeded even in local soil. This is a city of political memory, and the monsoon has always been more than meteorology here—it is a season of inwardness, of waiting, of listening.

This edition of Mahanagar is thus a dialogue between rain and unrest. It is not just about puddles and poetry, but also about power, fear, resilience, and the collective dream of peace. Even as we hear of borders hardening and battle lines being drawn, we pause to record the still-softness of a city resisting despair in its own lyrical way. We thank all our contributors who have brought this vision to life with courage and tenderness. Let the pages that follow be your window into a Kolkata caught between monsoon and mayhem—where every street corner still believes that no storm is too great for the human spirit to endure.