Ravindra's prose is brisk, smooth, and detailed, with numerous stories from traditional Nepali and Hindu folklore chipped in, adding layers as the story unfolds.
In dry, forgotten Shukhno Gram, a station master’s dull routine shifts when a runaway bride in blue arrives. Their unexpected bond, painted with longing, art, and fleeting rain, transforms solitude into a moment of magic.
Now, an automated metro-rail glides silently through the city. Conversations have become clipped, calculated. Efficiency replaces spontaneity. They call it peace. Rahim calls it absence.
Farid Shaheb earned a fair bit at the office today. These days, because of the Anti Corruption Commission and newspaper journalists’ incessant pestering, he can no longer directly take the money offered to him.
“Do you think they think about us?” Asgar muttered.
I love the texture of your hair and I wanted to tell you about it in far too many words than either you or I are comfortable with.
Beyond the celebration of Eid, this book also explores themes of love, loss, and the grief of spending a special occasion without a loved one.
I stared at the row of pre-peeled and packaged tangerines sealed tightly under plastic wrap.
You tell me stories of the sea—of its waves, of how it speaks to you in a language only you can understand—whenever you write back to me.
“Hello, good morning to you,” said one of the butterflies.
Zahir uses crows as a symbol of magic realism, as found in local folklore, where animals serve as omens of luck both good and bad. The crows seem to bring bad luck to the couple, and wherever they go, the birds follow.
“What’s the word for when someone drinks so much, they are ruining your best friend’s life? Or the word for a man so vengeful about his own past that he wants to destroy your future? What’s the word for a woman who was sick for months, but refused to go to the doctor until it was too late?"
The film is a deep dive into Bangladesh’s rivers and the fishermen who hold up the country’s underbelly, along with the revelry, the mythologies that run across the folk culture of majhis and Bede communities.
I didn’t know the endings to most of the stories as I fell asleep halfway.
A portrayal of a complex psychology, "Warm Red" tells the story of a terribly insecure man.
It got me thinking that we are fascinated by the behind-the-scenes lives of our cultural obsessions, and the personal lives of authors can come to feel like public possessions just as much as their works. It is this sense of ownership that can risk conflict over films about literary icons.
Too much education gets into these girls’ heads.
For me, the key takeaway from “Lucky” would be the perspective one can gain into living in the shadow of war, which creates around its victims a prison of undying misery.
The author shared about her life being an associate professor, teaching Management, raising two girls, and her love for writing over a cup of coffee and snacks.
