For sometime Nadeem had not been able to sit down at his writing-table. He caressed with loving fingers the diary in which he had recorded his experience of the Pakistani genocide of the Bangalees in 1971. He was barely twelve then. His parents had put him in the
What would I do with the spring when mournfully cries the cuckoo, when flowers are not in bloom?
In 1972, while working closely with various National and International Organisations to rehabilitate the raped and tortured women of the Liberation War, Nilima Ibrahim (1921-2002) interviewed some of these heroic women and kept
The man got off from the afternoon train. It was early winter, yet he had a thick tweed coat on. The foxy colour of his coat went well with his bronze complexion. He sloppily wore an old but fancy tie and his faded trousers showed a few fat stitches near his thigh.
Fazr azaan, and dawn, will see Ritu rise to greet “Shadhinota Dibosh” on March 26. It being a Saturday this year, her son Anu (short for
The sky was an ominous leaden colour. Leaden, splattered with white clouds. The wind whistled in gusts. On top of a storm-battled palm tree perched a lone eagle. The murky leaden sky was pitiless. Gusty winds rustled through the leaves of the palm tree.
Sharif, Jami and Masum tell an unbelievable, inhumane story of barbarity and cruelty. Sharif doesn't speak much usually; he gave a summary of their two-day, two-night imprisonment in his characteristic manner. I had to extract the detailed descriptions from Jami and Masum.
We commemorate March 26 with unalloyed joy and gratitude. A glorious day that marks the beginning of our independence from
