Sarah Anjum Bari

“No, not even water,” I explain to my friend, whose eyes grow wide at my description of fasting during Ramadan. We’re walking down Boulevard Raspail on the sixth arrondissement of Paris, past rows of people sitting out on café tables, past a noodle shop, a Pizzeria, a sandwicherie, and a Lebanese restaurant. It’s a hot summer afternoon. The air smells of cheese and caffeine, and I still have eight hours to go before I can eat or drink anything.

To call it ‘climate fiction’ would barely scratch the surface of what it really is. Richard Powers’ The Overstory—winner of this year’s

As far as grand finales go, Avengers: Endgame—the curtain call on this batch of the Marvel cinematic saga—gets a lot of things right.

“All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way. If you look for perfection, you’ll never be content.”

The book opens to a dark, ominous scene. An armed man in a soldier's uniform chases a woman through an open field, her saree unfoiling, smoke billowing from hedges and houses in the horizon.

If you’re thinking about the title of this article, let me clarify: I’ve always believed the opposite.

Think of some of the words we use most often in our daily lives in Bengali. The word for 'pen'—kolom; the word for 'sky'—asmaan; 'river'—doria; 'land'—jomeen.

In a solo exhibition “Disappearing Roots”, Samsul Alam Helal explores the impact of gentrification in the Rangamati hill tracts.

During the 1971 Liberation War, Khurshid Jahan, a 21-year-old student of Bagerhat PC College, Khulna, started training as a freedom fighter under the guidance of Lieutenant Zia Uddin.

It all starts with contact with light. The process, as we know, requires light to seep into the lens in which the moment captured already exists.

Growing up schooled in an English medium curriculum can bring with it a certain disconnect with the Bengali language. Or at least it did for me.

If you were anywhere around the Faculty of Fine Arts, DU and the Suhrawardy Udyan from 12 pm and 3 pm last Saturday, February 2, you might have seen a tall woman of Caucasian origin,

February is synonymous with a string of cultural events, but none perhaps as iconic as the Ekushey Boi Mela, a month-long commemoration of the 1952 Language movement that takes over Suhrawardy Udyan and Bangla Academy.

From the title of the exhibition to the ambience that hits you upon entering the gallery, one is struck by the presence of alliance, of the fun borne of creative collaboration in the project.

In season four, episode six of Netflix's BoJack Horseman—titled “Stupid Piece of Sh*t”—BoJack effectively loses it with Hollyhock and his dying mother Beatrice living with him.

For Mahera help came not only in the form of relatable characters, but also the physical comfort derived from holding onto a book. "I've carried a book or a Kindle with me during the worst times of my life. It's like a security blanket," she told me.

The Guardian's review of Mohammed Hanif's Red Birds points out how Momo, one of its characters, “complicates our picture of helpless children in refugee camps.”

Backstage at this year's Dhaka Lit Fest was a riot of activity—of footsteps, voices, human bodies all jostling to snag a conversation with some of their favourite cultural minds.

“I am malicious because I am miserable. Am I not shunned and hated by all mankind? Tell me why I should pity man more than he pities me? I will revenge my injuries; if I cannot inspire love, I will cause fear.”

We read about this girl. That she may have a name doesn't matter. What matters is that she is a'middle-sister', 'middle' as in relative, as in younger sister to someone, older sister to someone, sister-in-law to someone, and daughter to someone else.