POETRY / Take me to a hibiscus field won’t you
13 December 2024, 18:00 PM
Culture
POETRY / Our Bangla
13 December 2024, 18:00 PM
Culture
THE SHELF / Pages for freedom: Book recommendations for Victory Day
13 December 2024, 18:00 PM
Culture
Alice Munro, Canadian Nobel Prize-winning author, dies at 92
14 May 2024, 17:26 PM
Culture
POETRY / Be a tree
15 March 2024, 18:00 PM
Culture
FICTION / The loss of essentiality
15 March 2024, 18:00 PM
Culture
POETRY / THE OTHER WAY ROUND
8 December 2023, 18:00 PM
Culture
POETRY / Soldier amidst the blood moon: An elegy
8 December 2023, 18:00 PM
Culture
ESSAY / Ludic space for Tagore’s fictive children
8 December 2023, 18:00 PM
Culture
POETRY / They raise their fists. Inside, I fall asleep to the sound of rain
1 December 2023, 18:00 PM
Culture
Call It
I am laying all my cards down at the table. I'm laying them down and letting you know how this game is going to play out. We won't play poker, won't bluff. We won't Beggar My Neighbour or each other. No need for Blind Dons because my cards will be face up, for you to see clearly. We'll do no Crazy Eights, desperately trying to get rid of what we have at hand by throwing it into a discard pile. We've been discarded once. We know what it feels like. Let's pick ourselves up from there, shall we?
13 February 2015, 18:00 PM
Perfect Adjustment
Sanjana was more than happy today; she was ecstatic and hopelessly in love. Abir had taken her on a river cruise. She couldn't believe her luck. She pinched herself to check whether she was dreaming.
13 February 2015, 18:00 PM
EDITOR’S NOTE
Love is a many splendoured thing.
13 February 2015, 18:00 PM
11 May 2007, 18:00 PM
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29 December 2006, 18:00 PM
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29 December 2006, 18:00 PM
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22 December 2006, 18:00 PM