Fakir Lalon Shah: A Lighthouse in the Unreal Bazaar of the Blind
He spoke of women on equal terms at a time when women were not even people in the country where he lived (and they still are not—neither in the land of Lalon nor in the world that we proudly claim as ours.
2y ago
The Blighted Garden
I took my leave from the Siraj family, thanking them for their hospitality. I was just a stranger and yet they let me stay with them for weeks.
2y ago
Mostly Sunny
“This weather app is a life saver, I’m telling you! Look how sunny this weekend will be!” Ruma pointed at her phone with her freshly manicured fingers—donned with diamond rings. As her fingers tap-danced on the seven day weather chart on the phone, her listener got distracted by the new rock on her pointer finger.
3y ago
Three, Not Three
In the farthest end of the horizon across the river by the edge of a forest surrounding the dark hills sat a cottage made of dried palm leaves and rattan sticks in which lived an old woman.
3y ago
Memories at War
I often consider war as a quasi-synonym for memory. After all, memory is nothing but our present in constant war with our glorified, vilified, expressed, suppressed, erased, and fragmented selves floating in past space and time.
4y ago
A Translation of Mojaffar Hossain’s “Subservient Country, Independent People”
Majid kept sniffing the air as he walked. He slowed down when he heard someone’s footsteps behind him.
4y ago
The Name Game
When it comes to their names, most people in Bangladesh may find themselves in a convoluted situation.
4y ago
Musing on Things Unspeakable
Prejudice is a monstrous thing, and so is the tendency to be judgmental—the mindset that allures us to put ourselves in the shining armor of righteousness.
5y ago
July 28, 2018
Fierce, Friendly Fire
Usually, newspaper pages are dedicated to venerable people who have passed away or won an award. The occasion for today's issue is neither.
July 21, 2018
Aches and Auras
Shaji woke up with a pounding headache. The pain started in her sleep, so she thought she was only dreaming it. In her dream, she
May 19, 2018
When I Met Pip
When I met Pip, he was hanging upside down. It was not by choice though; someone held him by his feet against his will and made
April 28, 2018
My Life with Shakespeare
When you are asked to write a memoir or something about Shakespeare, you should know that you have reached your expiration date.
March 24, 2018
The Death of Sorrow
Azgar Ali was not worried when the war broke out. Theirs was a quaint little village hiding by the slopes near the Garo Hills. It took
March 3, 2018
Musing Lightly on the Issues of Translation
Recently, I have come across a significant number of Bangladeshi online journals, diligently invested in literatures in
February 10, 2018
LOVE HAS NO STORY TO TELL
One evening, while standing on the veranda of their 6th floor apartment, Sonia fell—with a big thud—in love. The thud was so loud
January 6, 2018
Specks of Dreams and Polarized Dusts
I fell asleep within my sleep and woke up to find myself in your dream, which is also mine.
December 17, 2017
Burning in a Yearning Fire
Some day, I will make a film about a group of lepers. These lepers, who—living in their melting , rotting bodies, but still resistant—
November 11, 2017
Catmoir
Cats are to be hated. And their whining, which some might lovingly define as meowing, is nothing but tiresome whimpering. At least
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