When you still approach reading in its ritualistic form every once in a while, it won’t feel like you’re “making time to read” but simply reading.

He had been practising saying his name out loud every night before going to sleep so that his ears remained accustomed to hearing his own name

It said, my body was no longer needed. / “This is the age of freedom. Let me go, and explore.”

What do we make of the mysterious thread that connects these stories not by genre, but by an imagination so wondrous they leave room for an underlying horror, and the many things that can mean?

Back in 2006 at the age of 11, I was introduced to faith, in the most domestic way possible.

On 5th October, 2023 the acclaimed Norwegian playwright and poet, Jon Olav Fosse, won the Nobel Prize in Literature “for his innovative plays and prose which give voice to the unsayable.”

You Are a Rickshawallah

A question that comes to mind is why does a book even need a playlist? There are two solid answers.

A visit to any bookshop today will attest to the reading public’s fascination with crime (and criminals).

Reading Rahad Abir’s Bengal Hound, despite the novel being written in English, felt a lot like reading in Bangla. While no two languages can ever truly be compared, there is much to be said about seeing Bangla and Bangladesh through an English language lens.

He told the Norwegian public broadcaster NRK that he was “surprised but also not” to have won.

This week, then, we're thinking: music and books, music and literature. In print and online, we're dreaming in tunes, dancing with words, daring to merge the two.

My mother’s house is beside a lake that separates the rich and mighty of the city from a little isle of people who work for them.

I cannot, for the life of me, definitively describe what makes music. Growing up in a family where music of any form was not typically paid any reverence, my exposure to it was tunnelled into mainstream pop songs for the longest time.

As someone who is interested in Muslim novels—by which I mean novels written by Muslims about Muslims—I always feel a scholarly tug towards Hanif Kureishi’s The Black Album (Scribner, 1995) when speaking of the at times uneasy but mostly comfortable marriage between music and literature.

Death dwells between is and was, Riding the final particle of a fading breath.

It is odd that nowadays One seldom hears the words

The door didn’t fully click shut. That was an ordinary affair in the house because the door locked to prevent escape. But, by chance or sheer good luck, it didn’t fully lock this time. The click was off. Someone hadn’t done their job correctly. Bloody hell, no one does their jobs correctly in this godforsaken country.

It’s a truism to say that modern life is complicated, but even a couple of decades ago, it would have been hard to predict the things we are dealing with today.

In this digital age, we are processing a large amount of information everyday and it’s important to learn media literacy in order to see the bigger picture.