What If the Game Was Never Meant to Be Won?

শেষ level-এর পর, cutscene-এর আগে—কোনো music-এর sound-এতক্ষণই none. Screen fade-ওহয়নি। Only one saved file blinking in an abandoned folder.

আমি remember: Kingdom_07_Saved_2018. 17তম birthday-এ start korechi ek medieval RPG। Throne room-e jai nai। Tutorial even complete kori nai。

Kintu—jokhon amar courage or destiny er kotha bolo, tokhon o khub jani: crown-ta peyechi na…

The Weight of What Was Left Unsaid

We were taught that games are won or lost. But what if they’re meant to be left incomplete? In King’s Gambit, my first real foray into online play, I died on Turn 43—not from poor strategy but from exhaustion. My fingers had grown numb after three hours of silent battle against an AI king who spoke only in riddles. I closed it without saving. No triumph. No failure. Only absence. And yet—months later, when my mother passed away, I found myself replaying those final moments in my mind: not as a game over screen, but as a ritual. A farewell without words.