Soumitra Deb 1 It was a lazy winter Sunday in south Kolkata—the kind where the sun was gentle enough to soften the edges of reality, the kind where even alarms gave up and let people sleep a little longer. In the modest Ghosh household of Lake Road, Mr. Biswajit Ghosh was already up by 7:30 a.m., fully dressed in his house kurta, socks on, and sipping tea while reading The Telegraph, shaking his head every five minutes at something he claimed was “kintu bipodjonok”. Purnima, his wife, had just started preparing luchi-alur tarkari when she heard a firm clearing of…