There is a Sunil Ganguly-shaped hole in my heart currently. And I don't even want to talk about or discuss him or do anything else really...because every such session brings with it such absolute absolute heartbreak.

However, even magical authors tend to go muggle-like sometimes. And in the history of magic, this book is a Petunia Dursley.

Would've been great, really, if I hadn't read a Professor Shonku with an annoyingly similar premise. (Without the entire fantasmagoria and other creatures and the resolution, of coure.)

Bangla sahityo has ruined me.