After a long field trip, hunger gripped the mission members who could barely wait to eat, yearning for whatever they could find. The

How innocently I met Islam! It was through a humble kind of “How do you do?” proffered to a handful of Rajasthan mosques; among

O Mayor! My Mayor!

Charulata Akhter was an ordinary, braided, floral salwar kameez-wearing nineteen-year-old from the Shundarganj village of Rangpur.

Freedom, you are

His ears attuned to the husky whisper

Some day, I will make a film about a group of lepers. These lepers, who—living in their melting , rotting bodies, but still resistant—

1971 has been my greatest passion for the last forty-six years. It has been my pair of glasses with which to look at people and things.

“The Magic Lamp” is a collection of 25 short stories by Okri inspired by 25 original paintings by Rosemary Clunie. Okri calls it his “first real unintentional intentional book”, after having been spontaneously inspired by one of Clunie's paintings. Spontaneous, however, may not be entirely accurate.

507 dead and 22,407 injured in political violence in Bangladesh in 2013

Ah, Moon of my Delight who know'st no wane,

“Doctor,” I chalk on the charcoal board. I ponder for several long seconds until I put two crosses on it with the kind of exertion that

We were out in the park, frolicking—all sixteen of us. Well, sort of! We were gamboling all right, but this was a part of the Alexander Technique exercise, something any casual observer in the park might not have understood.

The room is locked from outside;

Early the next morning, after Rafi finally turned off the TV and closed his eyes on the couch, a text message startled him out of sleep: “Get a big American flag, hang outside your door, Dad.” His father always signed off, even though his name would appear with his texts and calls. Rafi set down the phone and tried to sleep again. A second text intruded on it: “Take down Black Lives Matter sign. Please. For now. Dad.”

RS: How did you get into writing, who were the major influences on your work when you started writing and which contemporary writers do you identify with now?

Nanga Pagla the sky‑clad one

November, where are the mists of yesteryear?

As many hundreds of thousands of refugees stream out of Rakhine, leaving behind family killed and homes reduced to ashes, it may seem, and maybe is, peculiarly insensitive, untimely and Eurocentric to refer to the death of one Welsh poet in their homeland nearly 75 years ago.

A pebble ran to a beach in search of a home