Pass Hollywood over. It’s not the aliens but our neighbours,

We lived in Pirojpur then. Barisal is the land of rivers and nullahs, and Pirojpur is no exception. Unless you have been to this Southern region of the country, you cannot claim to have really seen the country. We were not used to seeing such multitudes of rivers and

Young Durga of Pother Panchali chanted the rhymes as she wandered amidst the wildernesses of Nischindipur. No, she did not make up the lyrics; they were taught to her by her elderly aunt Indir Thakrun. I myself was very young when I first came across the tale of

Just like the pools that drip from Abdallah's home into the longer al-Awafi alleys, these insightful, heartfelt snippets capture the lived experience of an Oman in transition over decades

The Swains and the Sea What is a sea to a fisherman’s eye? A giving friend? A savior? Or a killer in disguise?

Each writer born must have a muse, Or so I’m told, for if they do, And if they should, do they know how To let it in or haven’t found

Ayna, a collection of seven short stories by Abul Mansur Ahmed was published in 1935. Written through the span of 1922- 1929, these pieces were published in Saugat edited by Muhammad Nasiruddin. The stories were satiric in structure, reflective in observation,

The virtuoso with the pen Rizia Rahman has ended her terrestrial sojourn on 16th August, just a few months shy of entering her octogenarian phase. A prolific writer treading most of the domains of creative writing, she has left an indelible personal mark on our literary landscape.

SH: In 2011 you made a mega-documentary on 1971. What research on governmental policy documents went into the use of firearms by the Muktijoddhas as shown in your film, or as generally shown in films on the Liberation War?

I was led to delusion,

A sudden stillness!

It was on August 25, 2018, an evening just after the Kurbani Eid holidays, when Mr. Kamran, 66, a returnee from Dubai, went to Banani graveyard, Dhaka to visit his mother’s and father’s graves. After saying prayers he asked the caretaker of the graveyard “Do you have any empty grave?”

Tanvir Mokammel hails from Khulna, which is also the workplace of Prof. Sabiha Huq. This past February, when he was in Khulna for the launching of his partition novel Kirtinasha, the English Department of Khulna University became the privileged venue for a

One late afternoon, dragging his injured leg Kamal finally stood in front of a particular door of a shanti. For some strange reason, he could not enter the house as he used to even five months ago. He called out in a trembling voice, “Nuru! Where are you, my son? I’m home.”

I have been recovering from a very long and arduous block in my reading life, a block that could not be broken by the fattest or

Though I called out to the shopkeeper a couple of times, he didn’t heed me. He was too busy rearranging the products on the rack. As I was waiting for him to respond, a middle-aged beggar woman turned up on my left and begged for money from me. At first, I

The crimson hue is still in the morning sky.

Writing is a struggle for everyone. If it seems easy, a writer is not doing it right. Because writing is mired in myths and misunderstanding, most writers – aspiring writers, in particular – consider the essential difficulty in writing as a pathology. They feel

Slumped with our luggage we got off the train looking apprehensively at the quaint sight before us. Saplings and balding grasslands carpeted serenely with occasional trees of variety here and there. The scenery struck me with great unfamiliarity in contrast to the city

Instituted by Surina and Manhad Narula in 2010, the US $25,000 DSC Prize for South Asian Literature is one of the most prestigious international literary awards specifically focused on South Asian writing. It is a unique and coveted prize and is open to authors of any