Somudranil, I discovered, is of the rare kind who surrenders entirely to the emotional quotient of the material and lets his grasp on the language guide the rhythm of his prose. He is no more the Tagore who writes about his childhood. Instead, he becomes the younger Tagore who lived those young years. That’s where Somudranil makes this book his own.” — Sarthak Dasgupta (Filmmaker) What if you wake up in the middle of the night and find yourself transported back through time? Where the howling cries of the dacoits fill the air, palanquins swoosh past you, and the sprawling magical world enamors with all its squalor! Ever been to the wonderland? If no is your answer, peeking a bit into the 19th-century Calcutta won’t hurt much. In this account of My Growing Years, the second memoir by Tagore surfaces a man of rare talent and wisdom—Rabindranath Tagore. But don’t you want to know about the wonderland the man was once a part of, which led to his making? The house where he grew up, the stories of people who danced to their heart’s content, and the timelessness of the period—all deeply embedded in My Growing Years.