Wake me up every morning as dawn becomes a new day.
What motivated our youth to defy death in order to free Bangladesh from the yoke of a brutal regime?
Glamorous lightweight raindrops from the October sky keep
A star fell on the ground in the windy night
As if playing a game of chess / Still the world waits for the next dawn
Don’t you see— I can only write dark.
The first pulse, in the midst of a whipping maelstrom,
Eternity collapses at the wheel of change. / Past is lost
August, marked with dying things. Summer’s end, / My freedom spent
That evening, a blade sliced through string, through skin, red on red on red. Kutta, the man in khaki says. It is only later I realize it is me he is calling dog. Dog. Dog.
Using a Fulbright fellowship, Tarfia decided to come to Bangladesh to research the war and interview the women whom the Bangladesh government, in 1972, titled Birangona (war heroines). These interviews resulted in 'Seam' (Southern Illinois University Press, 2014).
my eyes can barely take the weight of sleep/ now/ now that you are wording sentences on wars
How can you talk about peace without taking into account war? Both are subjects not only of Tolstoy’s great novel but also of the two founding epic poems of Greek as well as Indian literature.
The top selections in poetry, flash fiction and artwork for Day 1 of the Sehri Tales challenge; prompt: Begin
To be human is to be a poet. And I will tell you why.
Great Man, now that you are dead, allow me to squeeze your hand. The sage bushes in Umbria are heavy with bees, so I’m killing them with hypnosis.
On the third day of the event, two documentaries were showcased. The first featured the infamous Belonia Battle, and Pakistan’s first and only surrender to the freedom fighters. It emphasised how the battle is closely intertwined with Bangladesh’s military history and has a special significance in the turn of events that led to our independence.
"The first book I had published comprised a short story. My second book of short stories came out 14 years after that", the writer said.
Soundless on my flaking wall, you/ rest like a sniper in frigid fear,