Disease 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...
Read MoreThis is the girl. Nabin recognized her pretty well. A pretty face in a noon crowd of pretty little faces walking along village paths. Nabin has a whole slew of names for them. He calls them by these names. The girl retorts: `...
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When a Pulitzer Prize winner publishes her second book, which was ten years in the making, it is...
Read MoreSo far they’ve lived across continents and worlds and mentalities. I suppose all my protagonists are also me, in some sense, or having an animated argument with me. So far, though, none of them have lived on other planets or galaxies, and so on. I guess I love this planet too much
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Boisali Biswas, an alumni of Viswa-Bharati and Bowling Green State University, is a mixed media Textile Artist, working with a variety of techniques within the Textile medium from weaving, dyeing, printing, painting, to quilting, embroidery, etc.
Read MoreTranslated from the Kazakh by David Cooke Nightmare Their meaning obscure, I dream of sleek black ravens whose croaking fills me with doubts and dread. They have built their nests in my hair. Like poisonous words, they’ve...
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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❤️
Very nicely scripted and presented. This gives a wonderful picture of Bandhavharh. One can visualize by reading
Very nice expressed the true feelings. How one feels when left alone in the poem. Really liked feel like it's…
Very insightful interview taken by Owshnik Ghosh of my work and reflections. Thank uou Owshnik.