In 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...
Read MoreThis Place No one owns it, except an immense darkness. Who else is lonely here except myself? Stay with me, ask me questions I cannot answer. There are ghosts here, my ancestors. Take me to some other place, where I can breathe....
Read MoreIf I told you When I breathe in the moistness of ancient ocean woods and trace the path of butterflies in hurricanes raging along your plexus if only I could tell how deep it wounds to know it in my soul that it’s probably...
Read MoreWhen we needed someone When we needed someone I cried for the shaman, seeking the words of generations to accompany us, Where are all the shamans? We needed someone to mend these bones, lift this arm, dress this shoulder, spine,...
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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❤️