My Facebook messenger tinkled a couple of times. All good on a Saturday morning. After all, while Facebook is a swirling fog of people’s achievements – someone got married, had a baby, passed a degree, landed a dream job, published a book, the messenger option offers some personal space sharing. 

DS. To some readers the title of your most recent novel The Middle Finger may sound controversial. But as I discovered while reading, it focuses on something very different. Why did you choose this title?

Be the autumn of my days. I am done with summers gone and springs to come or other rains. I’m the only season that remains.

If I get to live forever— then forever, I’ll be all alone— If I return to the paths of the world, I’ll see green grass Sprouting—will see yellow grass scattering— the sky Whitening in the morning—like a tattered munia bird, Breast blood-stained in the evening—again and again I’ll see stars And view a strange woman untying braided hair and leaving Alas, her face devoid of traces of the setting sun’s soft glow

On Thursday, February 2, 1922, a young woman was pacing the platform of the Gare de Lyon while waiting for the express train from Dijon. At 7:00 am precisely, the train arrived, stopped slowly, the conductor got off, looking around for the young woman who rushed to him and took a package from his hands, holding it tight while running towards the boulevard below, where she hailed a cab, her heart pounding.

The team that put together the Mujib Graphic Novel had two editors who constantly chipped in with suggestions--Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina and her sister Sheikh Rehana.

Ekushey Padak-winning poet Quazi Rosy, who played a significant role as a prosecution witness in the war crimes case against executed Jamaat leader Abdul Quader Mollah, died at a city hospital yesterday.

Noted poet and former lawmaker Quazi Rosy passed away at a hospital in Dhaka early today.

Eminent author and educationist Dr Zafar Iqbal described the graphic novel “Mujib” as an extraordinary document, that will remain in history as a reference point for kids and young adults who want to know about The Father of the Nation, Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman.

A day unforeseen as such! None mourns the dead Nor do they fear death; Intrepid, what illumination Brightens their weary frames, and faces; steps Evince staunchness clad determination, ignite thus The tenacious resolve!

He did not look at me once. His eyes were engrossed in deep thought; to me he seemed to be dipping in the deep waters of memory. Bent with age, he sat at his desk.

The man set out for town at the wake of dawn. It was the month of Phalgun. A nip of chill was still in the air. Wrapping himself in a tattered shawl, he started walking. He had a long way to go, a small river to cross. And then, the town would come into view.

The first graphic novel in Bangladesh depicting Father of the Nation Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman's life is now available at Ekushey Boi Mela.

Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina today inaugurated the Amar Ekushey Book Fair 2022, the annual event of booklovers and publishers, in Dhaka.

Sirjaul islam Quadir is both an individual and a representative of his time says Prof. Sirajul Islam Chowdhury in his ever-eloquent words put together in the forward to the book.

After so many years, more than a decade or so, when you pass my home, don’t forget to take a look at the humble roof of haystack and wattle if not the humble me waiting to have a look at your eyes for an epoch.

North Avenue beach was crowded with the Gold Coast moneyed, the downtown young and rich, the tanned, tight-bodied volleyballers, all of them white, and a healthy portion of the rest of the city’s masses, a United Colors of Benetton sampler, among which numbered the five of us. School was out for the summer, the next three months sprawled before us like the city from the Skydeck of Sears Tower.

Pushing the glass door open, Anita heaves a sigh of relief as she leaves the office for lunch. The sun is blazing down outside. Sometimes this place feels like a gold cage.

Come dawn, I am a daughter Sweet Obedient Caring

It was in Kabul, Afghanistan, on 24th December, 1972, when suddenly in the late afternoon the first snow flurries of the season began.