Grandmother
Drawing circles like a schoolgirl on the
blanket with her finger, she soon detects
black ants along the wall, and becomes a
traffic cop mad at disobedient
vehicles. With her white hair tangled in
neglect, she soon turns into a smiling
tyrant who tosses swear words like macro*
and bobok** at us all. She watches the
same...
What if poetry fails to connect with readers?—asks Vinita Agarwal in an interesting conversation on her works and different perspectives, with Poornima Laxmeshwar.
Poornima Laxmeshwar: When I read your poem “Gift,” it reads like describing the absence of someone’s departure and that the only way out was to put it...
Tia Paul-Louis is the pen name for a fiction writer and poet from Florida. She’s the wife of a U.S. Army sergeant who also happens to be a preacher and philosopher. She’s a mother to a four-year old girl and works at an army Child Development Center. Through many battles...
Bankim Let
Bibhas Roy Chowdhury’s latest chapbook Jessore Road-er Gach (Trees alongside Jessore Road) is “the sweetest song” that tells of “saddest thought.” It’s a spontaneous, melancholic flow of a sequence or series poetry, resting under the trees, in just fifteen poems. These fifteen well-crafted poems perfectly synchronize with illustrations by Biplab...
Welcome to Ethos Literary Journal (ELJ). Here is the inaugural issue and for this volume we have an eclectic mix of short story, review, nonfiction, memoir, interview and poetry. I’m blessed with extremely efficient genre-editors (Amit, Utsab, Koushik & Pramila), who have picked the right pieces for the best...
Russ Bickerstaff
A woman’s feet had come to rest in front of an intersection. A sports car drove by followed rapidly by a semi-truck with an advertisement for beer on the side of it. She didn’t notice it because she was looking at the glowing screen she held in her...
Mallika Bhaumik
Arindam's Diary
7th July, 2012
I watched the rain from behind the glass window, as it fell softly, silently on a warm July night. The wet brooding darkness gazed at me from the other side of the glass. There was a sense of loneliness akin to us, me and...
Anindita Bose
Love is neither blind nor selfish. It is a drug that pulls one out of a comfort zone and puts in a new state. The heart pumps faster the moment the syringe injects this drug into the cells of a body that is unaware of the emotion, and then...
Raja Chakraborty
It was a hot day. Stiflingly so. An unforgiving midsummer sun blazed from the cloudless sky, burning everything in its wake. Few blades of grass, brave enough to struggle still, was slowly turning to brown from a dull yellow.
Cracks opened up in the parched earth, like dried wounds...
Fakrul Alam
One of the earliest memories I have of my father is of him coming out of his bedroom, transistor radio in hand, eager to share his delight about a Tagore song being broadcast in Dhaka or Calcutta radio with someone else in our family. “Aha!” he would say,...
Bipranarayan Bhattacharyya
Darwin’s theory of evolution was one of the greatest scientific achievements of the Victorian period. However, the theory, with its emphasis on the fact of constant transformations in organisms in course of the struggle for survival, was also received in an opposite way in some quarters. Instead of...
Suvankar Ghosh Roy Chowdhury
Salman Rushdie, the British-Indian novelist, gained prominence with his second novel Midnight’s Children way back in 1981. An exponent of history and merging it with fantastic elements, Rushdie emerged as an author who spoke on socio-political disparities of modern times, particularly in India, with utmost clarity...