The work of a master craftsman Hand-drawn lines with his chalk

This colourless life; the clouds

Guards of time, turning clocks

SUST holds a place of adoration and reverence in Sylheti hearts, especially the youth.

Legend says, and now you will, too

A series of photos form Japan.

I drew lines on the sand, you drew across my heart

Sewn, glued, slapped on top,

The river goes on, no beginning or end. On its way to meet the ocean tides.

Kolkata has a sense of modern antiquity in its air.

Step forth, jump, go high Nothing is there that can deny

In these strange countless days, I’m trying to adapt to a new normal. I look at the sky, at the ground. I look right and left. There are thousands of scattered stories floating around. I picked the floating imaginary colours from my mind and brushed the photos with them.

Are you a scholar from the olden days or a trader from a strange land?

All we fight for is one single breath.

I have travelled so far In the hope for an escape

Migrated from the Indian state of Andhra Pradesh in the 1950s, the Telugu diaspora of Bangladesh have strewn around three or four cities and the districts therein; most of the ones based in the capital city of Dhaka live in a scavenger colony near Gopibag.

An amusement park for human beings Timelessly waiting at the terminal For a joyful journey to imagination

Darkening water, Moments of strife, A shiny, black river dies, Betrayed by the life

Many races, many faces - Broken frames, pictures in places

The sight of blue skies fills me with joy. Blades of grass singing in the fields have the power to move me, the simple things of nature have messages I understand, rejoice because my soul is alive. I visualise things I want to see, to feel and to believe in. I make my own mental blueprint.