Lamp of grief
Nothing is meaningless if speech and silence fill void, flowing in the same force, and no one blocks the road to dreaming.
9m ago
Three Songs: Kazi Nazrul Islam
Like a wounded bird, my songs/ tumble down at your feet, my love.
11m ago
I wish the world were a painting
Now I wonder the world is a painting, an imaginary chamber where captives sing, like a caged dove obeying a hunter enticing free birds to live in bliss. And then I see darkness of dusk fade away as the sun begins to peek in the east.
1y ago
Love at Second Sight
Dream is a mystery sometimes unfolded amidst creeping eeriness unstipulated to the seemingly compos mentis. As long as my stint in your thought bears a meaning for life because I wish to worship the sanctity of your feeling for me and tree,
1y ago
Before the Last Breath
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.
2y ago
November 25, 2023
We’re still alive
We’re still alive/ but they wanted to die a natural death
November 1, 2023
Bombardment
What’s life if a sense of darkness/ doesn’t connect night to sunlight
July 20, 2023
Lamp of grief
Nothing is meaningless if speech and silence fill void, flowing in the same force, and no one blocks the road to dreaming.
May 20, 2023
Three Songs: Kazi Nazrul Islam
Like a wounded bird, my songs/ tumble down at your feet, my love.
August 27, 2022
Love at Second Sight
Dream is a mystery sometimes unfolded amidst creeping eeriness unstipulated to the seemingly compos mentis. As long as my stint in your thought bears a meaning for life because I wish to worship the sanctity of your feeling for me and tree,
August 27, 2022
I wish the world were a painting
Now I wonder the world is a painting, an imaginary chamber where captives sing, like a caged dove obeying a hunter enticing free birds to live in bliss. And then I see darkness of dusk fade away as the sun begins to peek in the east.
February 12, 2022
Before the Last Breath
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.
June 5, 2021
Cartography
The map I dream drawing every day, Bangladesh, is yours.
September 12, 2020
The Art of Weaving Time
Maybe you forgot, or dementia possessed you before our union—how else could you keep aloof from your soul, your other soul, your eupnoea?
June 25, 2020
An intellectual at his finest
Aaj O Agamikaal: Nirbachito Shakkhatkar (Daily Star Books, 2020) by Professor Serajul Islam Choudhury and edited by Emran Mahfuz, a young
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