As her whole universe

Kamal Chowdhury enjoys a special place in contemporary Bengali poetry.

She is a black beauty; I mean black.

Driven by lust and greed,

While I thought deeply of the spring, the winter came

In today's SLR, readers are treated to an up-close and personal look at renowned, award-winning poet Kamal Chowdhury.

Brains melting. Tempers flaring. Fresh fruits diced and juiced. The dread of term exams. The anticipation of a new budget. Welcoming

Ajanta has not seen her mother in ten years. During her last visit to Dhaka, Amma had suggested that Ajanta should consider getting married again.

After wrapping up my second novel, I realized something; a truth of absolute importance -- that it takes more or less two years to

"Do you have any idea how much I missed you?"

A convergence of religions through Dharma, not swords. Friendship as an expression of political resistance.

I am up early today. It's a brilliant morning and I can hear the chirping of new birds.

While I'm editing my novel, I find it helpful to read something entirely unrelated. Young Romantics by Daisy Hay, subtitled The Shelleys, Byron and other tangled lives (Bloomsbury 2011), tells the story of a group of radical English writers over a period of a dozen years in the early nineteenth century.

The wind builds up its frenzy. The clouds rob my sky.

The May sun scorches Krishnachuras blaze The mind is moribund.

You have gifted me rainy day's First Kadam flower, O my beloved I offer you songs of monsoon rain.

People my age are one of the last few generations that grew up in Dhaka without twenty-four hour television or the Internet. We would read.

They had set sail in hope in dinghies or rickety boats,

I would love to be proven wrong that day,

This week Shahpar Selim does a double take on a childhood favourite, reminding us that while we are ‘LOLing’ at the world around us (or in our computers), we must remember to laugh at ourselves too.