Shahid Alam and I go back a long way, though we had both half-forgotten it until recently. He was two years senior to me at St. Gregory’s High School.
The book as a whole is a rigorously pursued exercise in the close reading of a fascinating and diverse array of modern texts that aren't quite in the category of the canonical mainstream.
Bangladeshi poetry has always been sensitive to socio-political issues and public themes. In discussing the poetic response to the Liberation War, therefore, it is useful to start with the broad historical background, move on to the literary tradition, and then consider the poetry itself.
The centenary of the Father of the Nation, and following on its heels the golden jubilee of the country’s independence, have precipitated a tireless round of celebratory events and an avalanche of varied publications.
For a couple of months after the 1970 elections everything seemed simple and straightforward.
I find two distinct types among denizens of the world of letters. There are writers single-mindedly focused on literary production in one genre or more, and others I would call, for want of a better term, literary personalities.
I had decided to write a brief review of Selima Chowdhury’s book when it was first published, but what with one thing or another making me put it off, a couple of years rolled by, and we found ourselves caught up in a pandemic with no end in sight.
Every year around this time, I get a phone call from someone or the other of the loose fraternity of Sector 7 veterans to remind me that May 6 is Lieutenant Colonel Quazi Nooruzzaman's death anniversary; he passed away in 2011.
As Bird flocks take wing at the rattle of sten guns
Let us say you dream of a woman,
The Partition of the Indian subcontinent in 1947 has become indissolubly linked to horrific, haunting images of armed gangs or mobs attacking helpless groups of men, women and children trying to cross a border that had just been scratched on the map. Literature registers the shock in works that make harrowing reading.
been buggering around this goddamn city
“… they shall inherit the earth.”
No, I've never been to Santa Fe.
The azan goes
Were I a painter
We celebrate Michael Madhusudan Dutt's birthday on 25 January, but we cannot be certain that this is absolutely accurate, just as we
