When he was handing over the money to Naimuddin, their father, Kalam silently cried, holding Dholi’s neck in the yard.
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.
Imagine it’s raining cats and dogs The hilly river has let the hair loose
This is an excerpt from Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay's short story "Abhishapta", translated by Dipty Rahman
Protecting translation is a commitment to fostering empathy, understanding, and creativity in a globalised yet divided world.
When I come to you, I become a tree Trees have roots
Healthy water-bodies are sunk by envy-blind waste’s outburst
Irrespective of the ambivalence that marks Metaphysical poetry of the 17th century, Selim marvels us with his choice of words and precision of utterance.
After the previous tenant vacated the house, Khan E Alam decided not to accommodate any younger residents.
Shahaduz Zaman is a familiar face in Bangladeshi literature, whose literary career spans decades of fruitful work. He regularly writes columns for Bangla newspapers, has written a few notable biographical fiction, such as Ekjon Komolalebu (Prothoma, 2017), based around the life of Jibanananda Das, and has garnered some duly needed appreciation for ethnographic work on the history of medicine during the liberation war.
My introduction to the Bangla translation of Japanese books happened during my visit to Baatighar Chittagong. It was there that I encountered the Bangla translations of works by one of my favourite Japanese writers, Haruki Murakami, back in 2021. Then last year, I found myself enchanted with the promise of Morisaki Boighorer Dinguli (Abosar Prokashona, 2023); the allure of the black edition of the book boasting ebony pages and stunning artwork had me yearning for the book months before its scheduled release.
Shimu and Tushar had grown up together on an alley in the Mirpur area of Dhaka city. Their neighbouring houses were separated only by a brick wall, about two meters high. The branches of a tree growing beside Tushar’s house overhung the wall, its foliage shading a part of Shimu’s courtyard.
Self-confidence shaken, some shattered memories in their side bags
Massacre, murder, torture, violence, bayonet, bloodshed, grenade, displacement, death—these words bring to mind a war scenario.
Wilson hasn’t written a retelling from the perspectives of the subjugated but has rather been true to the original, although she doesn’t shy away from acknowledging the sheer misogyny of the Homeric period.
There is no denying the truism that translation historically served the best interest of the colonisers.
The lad appeared to be very humble and slowly took a seat. But I noticed that he did not take his eyes off my face even once. He kept on staring at me through his glasses.
"This book is a way for me to express my own emotions associated with Tagore’s lyrics”, Fakrul Alam shared his thoughts at the launch of 'Gitabitan'.
I proposed a panel at a North American Bangla literary conference. ‘Is translation itself a form of activism?’ I queried.
