creative nonfiction

CREATIVE NONFICTION / Not waiting for answers

How long does a corpse of a hero take to rot? 50 years or more? What about the corpses of martyrs? One week? 10 days? The 40-day mark to blow the candles of funeral fires?

CREATIVE NONFICTION / PeaceCity alley

The Notorious Loverboy, Slum Boy and Millionaire’s Daughter, My Bride or My Mother, My Mother’s Body in a Wedding Saree,

CREATIVE NONFICTION / Of moms and balcony gardens

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a mom in Dhaka must be in want of a balcony-garden

CREATIVE NONFICTION / Patuatuli and a young girl’s love for glasses

My love affair with spectacles has long been regarded by my mother as nothing but a symptom of my dramatic nature.

CREATIVE NONFICTION / Of faith: Mother and memories

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

CREATIVE NONFICTION / Homeward

When I was born, my skin was dark, like my grandfather’s, in whose arms I discovered my first home. Relatives old and new, whose disappointment was being nursed by my parents’ fair complexions, looked from afar as my rotund cheeks melted into the sleeves of my dada’s discolored half-sleeve shirt.

CREATIVE NONFICTION / Of love, longing, and music that make us

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.

CREATIVE NONFICTION / The graveyard in Banani

Love is the enormous mango tree growing directly from an ancient grave, so old that no headstone remains at all.

Creative nonfiction / Anjuman and the stories of the mango people

My father’s ancestors were Ayurvedic medicine men from a remote corner of the North Bengal. A few generations ago, one of them had cured a long-lasting ailment of the Raja of Taherpur and had received, as a reward, a large chunk of agricultural land or “joat” next to the mighty Joshoi Beel.

August 17, 2024
August 17, 2024

Not waiting for answers

How long does a corpse of a hero take to rot? 50 years or more? What about the corpses of martyrs? One week? 10 days? The 40-day mark to blow the candles of funeral fires?

July 13, 2024
July 13, 2024

PeaceCity alley

The Notorious Loverboy, Slum Boy and Millionaire’s Daughter, My Bride or My Mother, My Mother’s Body in a Wedding Saree,

February 18, 2024
February 18, 2024

Of moms and balcony gardens

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a mom in Dhaka must be in want of a balcony-garden

January 6, 2024
January 6, 2024

Patuatuli and a young girl’s love for glasses

My love affair with spectacles has long been regarded by my mother as nothing but a symptom of my dramatic nature.

November 25, 2023
November 25, 2023

Of faith: Mother and memories

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

October 14, 2023
October 14, 2023

Homeward

When I was born, my skin was dark, like my grandfather’s, in whose arms I discovered my first home. Relatives old and new, whose disappointment was being nursed by my parents’ fair complexions, looked from afar as my rotund cheeks melted into the sleeves of my dada’s discolored half-sleeve shirt.

October 7, 2023
October 7, 2023

Of love, longing, and music that make us

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.

September 1, 2023
September 1, 2023

The graveyard in Banani

Love is the enormous mango tree growing directly from an ancient grave, so old that no headstone remains at all.

August 19, 2023
August 19, 2023

Anjuman and the stories of the mango people

My father’s ancestors were Ayurvedic medicine men from a remote corner of the North Bengal. A few generations ago, one of them had cured a long-lasting ailment of the Raja of Taherpur and had received, as a reward, a large chunk of agricultural land or “joat” next to the mighty Joshoi Beel.

August 9, 2023
August 9, 2023

7 minutes to midnight

In exchange for the presidential suites at the Ritz and so on, the men holding our city keys have already opened our skies to all that may come.

push notification