On the heart of a place where heather blossoms, Dreams of scattered bodies and burnt heath Against the walls where children live
Pressed between pages Of a heavy book, a rose-– Neither flourishes nor wilts.
500 years ago, Edmund Spenser wrote a poem to celebrate a wedding taking place beside the River Thames. Each stanza ends with the refrain: “Sweet Thames, run softly till I end my song”.
An uncomfortable stillness emanated in the air around Rajpath road. I stood there with my suitcase in my hand, the hair on the back of my neck standing on edge. Glancing left then right, I crossed the road and entered the premises of Hotel Kaalipara.
It was another early sunset on a rainy day in Dhaka. Alamin was walking with a polythene bag of groceries back to his small, rented apartment.
Spacious, shiny, new roads are built in my city to rent them for raw-markets
Bishwa Sahitya Kendra completes the mammoth task of compiling and publishing the 74,000-page compilation