The late great Sir Terry Pratchett was a force to be reckoned with in the domain of fantasy novels. While his contributions to the world of literature are innumerable, Pratchett's life encompassed a lot more than just the art of writing books.

At the noon Of 21st February

Sometimes I wonder what life would be like if I were to subscribe to one particular language that didn't have any link with my roots. One particular language, which I didn't know like the back of my hand.

The British Marin camped here in the dead of night when people were in deep sleep. There was no human residence here back then; only lines of upward looking trees graced the vicinity.

Glancing nervously at the dogs that lay basking in the winter sunshine, I tried to move ahead with confidence, telling myself that the venerable Tollygunge Club would never allow their clientele anywhere near animals that hadn't had their rabies shots.

Who says words are like butterflies? I see invisible shackles.

The moment I saw your eyes in the crimson glow

The barred windows and fortress walls,

It was a hard fall. Kheya was astounded—not because she fell, but because of the person she fell for. The man was a magician of words, with a thick beard and a thin voice and was about one

I have but one life

Ismat was very irritated at my suspicions. She lectured me on how terrible it was to guess and gossip about others without actually hearing anything with my own ears. I was

Star Weekend speaks to four young writers about launching their books at this year's Ekushey Boi Mela, about what influences their work, and their thoughts on the state of the literary scene in Bangladesh. A consensus emerged on the inspiration they receive from their childhood and the world around them and on the need for better editing, book marketing, and royalty payments in the industry.

Foreign calls were cheap these days. So the parents had whined and cried on the phone: how could they bear their only son living

Mother-- please don't call me again at the end of day;

As No Presents Please emerges as the winner from a shortlist of six to take the coveted US $25,000 DSC Prize, Jerry Pinto comments,

It is a wonderful irony that T.S. Eliot, the publication of whose long poem The Waste Land a century ago is taken by the intelligentsia to

A moon merging with another moon—

“Everyone has a tree.”Golibe said. “And every man craves a moon. The moon is what he wants but the tree is where he ends. The tree is

It was a moonlit night – I wouldn't have known had I not gone to the rooftop.

You say a lot, but not what you hide,