Marzia Rahman

The Greatest Irony of Lal Miah’s Life

JHALMURI (Puffed rice chaat) Preparation time: 2 minutes

Homecoming: a short story by Syed Shamsul Haq

My plane landed in Dhaka at 2:30. By the time, I went through customs, it was 4 o’clock in the afternoon. I became restless. How long would it take to go home? No one lived there now. My house stood alone, empty. I left it one month and thirty days ago. I locked the door before I left.

Recipe of Panta Bhat with a Few Survival Tips During a Riot

Hermit-crab fiction use ready-made templates such as recipes, shopping lists, meeting minutes and other forms and is a great way for experimenting with form in short fiction.

When Your Mother is Sick – A hermit-crab fiction

Keep relatives at a distance, they will never visit but will always give untimely advice or spill half-true family secrets. 

At the Wake of Dawn

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.

Not All Stories Have a Finale

A Sonata has three major parts: exposition, development and recapitulation.

Monsoon, My Grandmother, and Mini

The year Dadi died, monsoon came early. Days of incessant rain, nights with loud thunderstorm. And when there was no rain, my friend Mira and I sang rain songs and floated paper boats in the puddle.

Late Night Calls

Late nights calls are risky, reckless.

November 12, 2022
November 12, 2022

The Greatest Irony of Lal Miah’s Life

JHALMURI (Puffed rice chaat) Preparation time: 2 minutes

September 24, 2022
September 24, 2022

Homecoming: a short story by Syed Shamsul Haq

My plane landed in Dhaka at 2:30. By the time, I went through customs, it was 4 o’clock in the afternoon. I became restless. How long would it take to go home? No one lived there now. My house stood alone, empty. I left it one month and thirty days ago. I locked the door before I left.

August 29, 2022
August 29, 2022

Recipe of Panta Bhat with a Few Survival Tips During a Riot

Hermit-crab fiction use ready-made templates such as recipes, shopping lists, meeting minutes and other forms and is a great way for experimenting with form in short fiction.

August 20, 2022
August 20, 2022

When Your Mother is Sick – A hermit-crab fiction

Keep relatives at a distance, they will never visit but will always give untimely advice or spill half-true family secrets. 

February 19, 2022
February 19, 2022

At the Wake of Dawn

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.

November 27, 2021
November 27, 2021

Not All Stories Have a Finale

A Sonata has three major parts: exposition, development and recapitulation.

September 25, 2021
September 25, 2021

Monsoon, My Grandmother, and Mini

The year Dadi died, monsoon came early. Days of incessant rain, nights with loud thunderstorm. And when there was no rain, my friend Mira and I sang rain songs and floated paper boats in the puddle.

June 19, 2021
June 19, 2021

Late Night Calls

Late nights calls are risky, reckless.

February 6, 2021
February 6, 2021

Death is not Funny, Nor is Hamlet a Coward

I got a visitor today. My mother. It was a bright morning, one of those days when you get a feeling that something good will happen. And then mother came. And mother looked perturbed. And I realised it will be like any other day with nothing but madness all around.

September 5, 2020
September 5, 2020

The House You Cannot Put Colours on

It was a big window, like an arched doorway. It creaked loudly the first time I opened it. It sounded angry, upset. I wondered why?

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