Xoraphul is not a novel. It doesn’t have a structured background or setting like a typical novel. But Xoraphul is a story—yours, mine, and everyone’s story of emotions. Like Xoraphul (fallen flowers), these emotions are solitary and forlorn. Once fallen from the tree, the meaning of a flower changes. Sometimes it cries, trampled under someone’s feet or swept away by a broom. Yet, amidst it all, like us, it smiles quietly—nestled in the pages of someone’s book, tucked into someone’s hair, or cherished by the delicate love of two hearts.My emotions are just like that—small, lonely, yet carrying within them the sighs of many like us. Sometimes, I let them out on Facebook. Many ask, “Why do you write these?” With a faint smile, I reply, “There’s so much to say, yet I can’t express it aloud. So, I write.” Some say these words resonate with their lives and ask, “How do you understand us?” I simply say, “Nobody ever truly understood me!”

The stories in Xoraphul are like that. Within them, I’ve tried to sketch pieces of your countless desires, woven into some narratives from Anuran Sandhya. These are some reflections following Niribili. For those who often ask me about Anuran Sandhya after reading Niribili, Saraphul is a small gift for you.- Kaushik