The mosque committee was quite displeased with Rashed, their young muezzin.
Dust patterns have gathered around my landline phone, huddling around the maroon. my fingerprints take some dust off of it, and they rejoice.
When there’s a lull in the air, I get the feeling that I’ve scraped the bottom of my fleshy insides.
Buckets of water I pour on my head; my vision gets blurry./ "The blurrier, the merrier", my mother said.
The yard in this noontime is buzzing with/ The white aroma of the guava flower
Everyone gathered around the east end of the Shashipur to watch Sharafat Miah dig his own grave. The local kids lurked around Sharafat’s old hut, keeping a watch on the progress of the grave until their mothers came to pick them up after Maghrib.
Shahaduz Zaman stands out prominently as a significant figure in the contemporary Bangla literary landscape, utilising intertextuality throughout his works, and infusing various texts and genres into his narratives.
I’m going through a heartbreak
I'm tired of living with this nagging thought that we'll cross paths someday, /You and I
When there’s a lull in the air, I get the feeling that I’ve scraped the bottom of my fleshy insides.
Dust patterns have gathered around my landline phone, huddling around the maroon. my fingerprints take some dust off of it, and they rejoice.
The mosque committee was quite displeased with Rashed, their young muezzin.
Buckets of water I pour on my head; my vision gets blurry./ "The blurrier, the merrier", my mother said.
The yard in this noontime is buzzing with/ The white aroma of the guava flower
I’m going through a heartbreak
Shahaduz Zaman stands out prominently as a significant figure in the contemporary Bangla literary landscape, utilising intertextuality throughout his works, and infusing various texts and genres into his narratives.
Everyone gathered around the east end of the Shashipur to watch Sharafat Miah dig his own grave. The local kids lurked around Sharafat’s old hut, keeping a watch on the progress of the grave until their mothers came to pick them up after Maghrib.
I'm tired of living with this nagging thought that we'll cross paths someday, /You and I
At around 2 AM he was awoken by the sound of Shahidun’s sniveling cries on her prayer mat. As grating as it might have sounded, he felt grateful for it to have woken him up.