short story
FICTION / The hawk and the mice
Bolstered, the six little mice lead their army up–up–up the trunk of the poor, ravaged oak they were so desperate to save.
FICTION / Alone beneath the mountains
His final sentiments were etched into the table before he succumbed to his final rest: "I found solace in the mountains. They demanded nothing and remained steadfast by my side."
FICTION / Storm child
You must have heard the story of your birth a thousand times by now, sweetheart. Your mother and I—home alone.
FICTION / After the rain
Again, I wasn’t a poet, but words and sentences jumbled up seeing that small face, light make-up enhancing her beauty. A loose strand of hair cascaded down her cheek, framing her face.
FICTION / After the rain
While leaving the institute, a nurse gave me a packet of cigarettes as a token of friendship
FICTION / Hair cream
The mosque committee was quite displeased with Rashed, their young muezzin.
FICTION / Insomnia
You are wide awake again
FICTION / The man who dug his own grave
Everyone gathered around the east end of the Shashipur to watch Sharafat Miah dig his own grave. The local kids lurked around Sharafat’s old hut, keeping a watch on the progress of the grave until their mothers came to pick them up after Maghrib.
The Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in your House
If they knew, your mother would have said, “It’s in your head, darling,” and your father would have screamed, “Put that head in the toilet bowl where it belongs.”
The hawk and the mice
Bolstered, the six little mice lead their army up–up–up the trunk of the poor, ravaged oak they were so desperate to save.
Alone beneath the mountains
His final sentiments were etched into the table before he succumbed to his final rest: "I found solace in the mountains. They demanded nothing and remained steadfast by my side."
Storm child
You must have heard the story of your birth a thousand times by now, sweetheart. Your mother and I—home alone.
After the rain
Again, I wasn’t a poet, but words and sentences jumbled up seeing that small face, light make-up enhancing her beauty. A loose strand of hair cascaded down her cheek, framing her face.
After the rain
While leaving the institute, a nurse gave me a packet of cigarettes as a token of friendship
Hair cream
The mosque committee was quite displeased with Rashed, their young muezzin.
Insomnia
You are wide awake again
The man who dug his own grave
Everyone gathered around the east end of the Shashipur to watch Sharafat Miah dig his own grave. The local kids lurked around Sharafat’s old hut, keeping a watch on the progress of the grave until their mothers came to pick them up after Maghrib.
The Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in your House
If they knew, your mother would have said, “It’s in your head, darling,” and your father would have screamed, “Put that head in the toilet bowl where it belongs.”
The chasm
At around 2 AM he was awoken by the sound of Shahidun’s sniveling cries on her prayer mat. As grating as it might have sounded, he felt grateful for it to have woken him up.