Original: Syed Manzoorul Islam Translation: Srideep Mukherjee 1 Bakul Farazi did have a longish full name, but that eludes my memory at this point in time. What I certainly remember, however, is that Bakul’s inordinately […]
Original: Syed Manzoorul Islam Translation: Somdatta Mandal [This short story is taken from the collection Sukhdukkher Golpo (Dhaka: Nymphea Publications) containing twenty stories that Manzoorul Islam wrote between 2005 and 2010. They are about […]
Original Story: “Agun” Syed Manzoorul Islam Translation: Debottama Ghosh 1 Nobody can keep track of time when they are out on the streets of Dhaka these days. People have left it to fate. There’s impossible […]
[This is a biofiction, but let it be said plainly that these episodes are not invented: they happened, in the order and texture described, to a real person, in real rooms, across real years, between […]
I have been standing at the dressing table for the past three hours. All set. But wait, am I imagining the dark patches under my eyes? It would not do, it would not do at […]
December stirs memories for Joyeeta. Memories that wrap her with the flickering, swirling, venomous tongue of an unerasable past. She hates it. She has been hating it since her childhood. She hates Eliot even more; […]
A Tryst with the River Padma? The Padma is not what it used to be. The people of the Padma banks nowadays whisper this among themselves. This perception has been stirring their minds for […]
I. Cats are to be hated. And their whining, which some might lovingly define as meowing, is nothing but tiresome whimpering. At least that was what my mother said she—not my mother—my cat—did. “Why did […]
(Inspired by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s The Arrow and the Song) The time was dusk. The play of colours was not less captivating than any other day. The reddish tint in the sky did not catch […]
‘Mermaids.’ Is that what those humans decided to call me? With their fantastical theories of jubilant, multicolored tails and indescribable beauty to match their benevolence—I could not help scoffing at their rather unimaginative imagination. Where […]
Publisher : Sabiha Huq, Professor of English, Khulna University, Bangladesh
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