When Mr. Vik Roman looked at the time with flinching eyes, it was around 3:30 am.
The city still wants to breathe.
Something you may... You may never find again.
My love always arrived wrapped in silence, wrapped in dust. But that was childhood.
We will make meaning out of the holes in the sun
At a gathering in the unfinished community hall, Saleha raises a question: "They gave us walls. But what do we want to grow inside them?"
In Lakshmi’s Secret Diary, Ari Gautier crafts a dazzling, multi-layered narrative that is as whimsical as it is profound.
I know my engine is dying. I know that, by the time the next Eid rolls around, the busy little humans will have taken me apart to create something new.
When he was handing over the money to Naimuddin, their father, Kalam silently cried, holding Dholi’s neck in the yard.
While the term "fanfiction" may not have existed, the practice certainly did. Fanfiction has been argued to have influenced significant literary works such as the Homeric epics, Shakespeare's plays, and even Miguel Cervantes' Don Quixote.
You were chosen because of your heart. Because of the incredible love you carry, despite the cruelty of this hungry city. Because of the strength you have, forged by the trials and tribulations of Dhaka.
Shiraj’s only consolation was that he was almost at the end of the line. Just the couple in front of him, and then he would finally be free. Otherwise, he was fuming. Someone had picked his pocket.
“Listen, I have a plan but you have to say yes,” said Naya as her eyes traced Noorie’s computer screen, checking to see if she finished typing the rest of the sentence. With a last click on the full stop, Noorie bent backward to see Naya’s face gleaming.
The girl stared back at her and asked a question that made Mrittika’s heart beat faster. “Don’t you recognise me?”
The place had no soul or spirit left, and it was evident in the colourless walls, the unclean glasses, the empty eyes of the server who left me a menu card.
As I turned around to reply, she was gone.
“Can’t a man even get payesh and shemai on Eid in this house?” Altaf Shaheb screamed from the drawing room while watching the news, “There used to be so much joy in this house. It used to feel like Eid. But your mother has grown so sluggish now, Saadat! She used to be such a good cook. Our neighbours back in the old neighbourhood were crazy about your mother’s chicken bhuna. But now I can’t even get a plate of payesh the night before Eid.”
When DC Clements misses, by just a few hours, the opportunity to recover the abducted Kylie—who was being held prisoner by an unknown captor in the initial period after she disappeared—the police officer becomes obsessed with finding out what actually happened to the missing woman.
Suddenly, the shadow became larger on the wall. At that exact moment, something felt heavy on Farid’s chest–and got heavier by the minute. Everything was still, and in that silence, a silhouette slowly grew over Farid’s body.