Here, translation unlocks stories from languages afar, people unknown yet familiar in voices that stun you and resonate with you. Here is your book of world stories
What We Really Wanted – Romel Rahman/Abhishek Roy
A satirical take on exploitation and further deprivation of the poor in Pandemic...
The Spy – Mojaffor Hossain
Bereavement and belonging - memories of people banished from the land they love, play at the heart of the story...
A Year In Drowning – Neil Chowdhury and Bishnupriya Chowdhuri
Between you, me and our hatred for each other
an ocean came...
Pandemic – Alokparna
April 26,,, 2020
These days I seem to repeat all my actions thrice Otherwise a restlessness gnaws at my insides I get a feeling that the task at hand is not quite complete I wash the same cup three times over I fold a shirt thrice Think the same thoughts three times But of course,,, I...
Dad and the Blue Beetle – Drew Barth
She was right. I knew she was right, but that was the gift he’d lauded for decades whenever someone came to the house. I wanted to keep it, maybe display the comic as Dad had before, and pass it down to my kids eventually. But neither of us had kids, just a funeral bill...
The Scaly People – Modhura Banerjee
The Scaly People - A Graphic Fiction on the plights of migrant workers during Indian lockdown...
Pause – Deb Bandyopadhyay
I cracked, I shatteredan warm slice of litterpinched trough the cavernsrested time in a jaryes, I heard it fracture Lights from distant towerpierce like a wavy painrhythmic vicissitudesmillion senses of puncturesolitude in a chain Frozen light curved the needlesfrozen…...
Pendulum – Jayanta Dey
The shopkeeper shut his open eye this time. I knew he was watching me through the magnifier lens attached to his eyepiece. I felt quite uncomfortable, like I was a damaged clock. He was unscrewing all the nuts and bolts of my body, turning them over and over. Behind the eyepiece, his eye narrowed. It...
Three Stories – Lynne Knight
She took to riding one bus after another. Often she was surprised when someone offered her a seat, and then she remembered: she was an old woman. She had methods of looking at herself in the mirror that kept her from being too aware of this...
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❤️