FARUK KADER

Before returning to Australia, I felt a quiet urgency to visit my elderly and ailing relatives in Dhaka. Not just a social obligation—it was something deeper, a whisper from within. I heard such visits were acts of virtue, but for me, it was more about connection, memory, and respect..A fe

Turbulent, murky, and eccentrically wide at this time of the rainy seasons, the river Padma flows incessantly. Lashing with fury at its banks on both sides the river flows swallowing fertile lands, homesteads, settlements. It is a different story at Mawabazar though, where humans endeavour to tame the river.

Sharif and his wife Ankhi were at the chamber of a reputed Sydney oncologist to discuss the MRI results of Sharif's suspected colon. On the wall hung a board which displayed a large number of his colon's images taken at different angles and perspectives. Sharif tried to get the underlying message emanating from the images. Each image had a few grey or dark spots which looked ominous to him.

Like a lonely star in the heaven

Whenever, I had come over to Sydney to spend time with my family, we met most of the times on road or cottage fence and