Perhaps I should have met that girl. What if I was wrong and imagined an ordinary girl so fantastically that I couldn’t even recognise her in real life?

justice—where is justice?

Where voices unite, a chorus strong, / Demanding justice, righting wrong

"Growing to love something, and allowing that to change me is not immediate, it is not profound. Nor is it something caused just by reading a handful of books"

‘You must bury / yourself / Every three days’ / She said, / ‘Corpses are of / No use

Your grief rots the decades old paint and the lakhri no one bothered to replace. Even across the road, it reeks of death.

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

In memory of the late Mike Franklin, 1949-2024

I inhale the luxurious scent / of squelched earth / smoking under the sodden leaves

Echoes of your voice ring in my ears / As the world turns scarlet in front of my eyes

Rokeya Sakhawat Hossain was an autodidact who became a formidable champion of women’s rights and education when women in South Asia, especially Muslim women, were forced to live in subhuman conditions, almost like animals, or even worse than animals

I feel my rage, ma, a living thing;/ A beast, caged, like me

All that I’d despicably known / Things I wish I didn’t know–

I skip talking to myself for hours / The “me time”, before going to bed

If you travel on a bus, always take the window seat.

Is it true that when we migrate, we lose a few people from our past?

Raindrops whisper on the tin roof’s drum,

After the previous tenant vacated the house, Khan E Alam decided not to accommodate any younger residents.

Selina Hossain is a celebrated novelist in the realm of Bangla literature.

Again, I wasn’t a poet, but words and sentences jumbled up seeing that small face, light make-up enhancing her beauty. A loose strand of hair cascaded down her cheek, framing her face.