there are towns like wine Auspicious autumn city Shabby houses Old streets Around all the junk Oh, how I like it dull irrevocable years and my days are past and holy book is my sadness barefoot girl in the rain hurries to the...
Read MoreJuly 7th marks the birthday of Bijan Elahi (1945-2010), a modernist, experimental poet who has posthumously acquired a position in Persian modern poetry that only a few canonical poets, like Nima Youshij (1897-1960), Ahmad...
Read MoreJapa Kusuma Let there be blood Let there be a drop of unicell Let there be an unhappy droplet of soul… Oozing of life Clotting of tears with a fragrance of sparkling eyes! Alas. But, my mother can do My mother only My...
Read MoreI wait for her 1. I wait for her inside a dark Monday afternoon inside a dark Monday afternoon’s myth by a big round space a window overlooking billboards and a museum I know people eat strawberries make friends and money.. In...
Read MoreDisease Triptych I Maya is not at work today; Maya Sarkar that is, this very day when the sun is beautiful and bright and after being beaten up all night by the drunken, stealing, devious loser of a husband. In dark, puffy eyes...
Read MoreDiurnal Delirium Your mouth, Is filled with the never ending sky, Quenching your thirst of divinity from My heart’s sycamore, on a mountain top, Behind your sternum, beneath the collar bone. Denuded of gaiety, I’m...
Read MoreStrange Meetings Sometimes we run into someone just for once in our lives and our bones refuse to fit inside the skin the same way. Plans proceed as waves and recede as doubts. A fleeting joy with gnawing pangs of apprehension...
Read MoreIn your stained dishdasha, drooping collar, and sneakers with grimy laces, you stand waiting. You see him poring over a faded paper, its lines glowing red with numbers and scribbles. The paper yells: Overdue payment! Staggered,...
Read MoreWe spent our working lives in a hill town. It was only last year when we commenced our careers we bade goodbye to the highlands. We lived joyfully, in a little house that we built on a small hillock in this lush green land. ...
Read MoreI am in the staff room. In my school. It’s a cold convent full of stones. There’s no window here. I have failed. On my math test. I need one more mark. To pass overall. I am crying. I am pleading. The Sister laughs. She walks...
Read MoreTranslated from the Bengali by Mahasweta Ray “You thought I would never find you again?” asked Yashwant Sinha. I did but I could not say the same straight on his face, so I stared in the distance for a few seconds. The path had...
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Personally , I am an admirer of the Translator 😍. I usually go through her writings . This is also…
Personally I am an admirer of the Translator, I usually prefer to go through her writings . She is an…
Such a simple yet powerful expression of the wrongdoings that occurs in domestic sectors. Absolutely loved the story.
Can you please cite the original poem ? Where to find it in Bangla?
Such a wonderful work ma'am ❤️ I loved it
Just a wonderful work Ma'am....I loved it❤️