The Last Day of a Red Tulip
One early morning, before the sun’s ascent, Stood a red bud in my front lawn.
11m ago
Ode to an ariel dancer
Clouds in heaven bow and billow around your feet, and you- glide through, oblivious to their ethereal presence.
1y ago
Remembering Mohiuddin Ahmed, the founder of UPL
Countless people cross our path as we walk through this temporal life; but only one or two strike us as people with no darkness within. Mohiuddin Ahmed was one of those unique humans. He radiated pure light, and for those within this light, time always moved peacefully because life seemed to have met all his wants and needs, and as a man so at ease with the ways of life, he effortlessly smoothed out the many negative thoughts of his visitors and friends, just by being who he was.
3y ago
Mother’s Sari
A backstreet, wet at nightfall — a silk sari unfurled. Iridescent black. Autumn leaves — Splashes of gold under streetlights. Rain in Lund Is the same as in a Dhaka backstreet.
3y ago
August 24, 2024
Magic boys and girls of Bangladesh
Magic boys and girls of Bangladesh, I love you.
December 30, 2023
The Last Day of a Red Tulip
One early morning, before the sun’s ascent, Stood a red bud in my front lawn.
September 30, 2023
IS & WAS
Death dwells between is and was, Riding the final particle of a fading breath.
July 22, 2023
Ode to an ariel dancer
Clouds in heaven bow and billow around your feet, and you- glide through, oblivious to their ethereal presence.
October 9, 2021
Remembering Mohiuddin Ahmed, the founder of UPL
Countless people cross our path as we walk through this temporal life; but only one or two strike us as people with no darkness within. Mohiuddin Ahmed was one of those unique humans. He radiated pure light, and for those within this light, time always moved peacefully because life seemed to have met all his wants and needs, and as a man so at ease with the ways of life, he effortlessly smoothed out the many negative thoughts of his visitors and friends, just by being who he was.
July 10, 2021
Migraine
A hood of iron thread Drawn over face,
May 1, 2021
Mother’s Sari
A backstreet, wet at nightfall — a silk sari unfurled. Iridescent black. Autumn leaves — Splashes of gold under streetlights. Rain in Lund Is the same as in a Dhaka backstreet.
November 28, 2020
Dhaka Lives in My Backbone
The chestnut tree in my courtyard is in full bloom,
April 25, 2020
A Man with A Cane
The man walks Bending on his cane, picking
January 4, 2020
On a Street of Dhaka
In a tattered sari, she stands
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