All Quiet on the Western Front (Little, Brown and Company, 1929), a semi-autobiographical novel authored by a German World War I veteran, Erich Maria Remarque, is one of the greatest anti-war works of literature—one that was published nearly a century back and still holds relevance today
Despite being quite the nerd, I found no solace in education.
Men objected to the public display of sanitary napkins at the Ekushey Boi Mela.
Grooming of minors by paedophilic adults seems to be an overlooked yet pressing societal anomaly
Unsurprisingly, the film’s directors, Ron Clements and John Musker, are white, and it is almost as if “whiteness” prevents artistes, such as film directors, from portraying the non-white peoples with a non-colonial lens.
Should we believe that the same man who didn’t believe in women’s right to freedom of choice is now a changed “reformist”?
The parallel between the 2024 Met Gala and 'The Garden of Time,' a short speculative fiction written by JG Ballard, is uncanny.
Let Toomaj Salehi’s words strike a chord in our hearts, a chord that will spur action, no matter how small
It’s been three nights that Aslam hasn’t been able to sleep. He has been trying so hard to fall asleep on the divan for three nights – the divan that he fancifully got carpentered and laid out in the study room of his gigantic apartment in Bashundhara, for the specific purpose of lying down to read and eventually doze off.
We lived in Pirojpur then. Barisal is the land of rivers and nullahs, and Pirojpur is no exception. Unless you have been to this Southern region of the country, you cannot claim to have really seen the country. We were not used to seeing such multitudes of rivers and
The next day, Lebu had really blasted a peto at the party's office. Well, he had tried to. The peto had fallen off his maimed hand, right in front of the table. It didn't bounce — rather sort of slumped — like a ball in a slow spin. Everyone shrank in fear. Babluda, the secretary, had pulled his legs up on the bench. He pressed his palms against his ears and stared, wide-eyed.
The alley is dark. Dim streaks of light trickle down from the street lamp at the turn.
