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Around 2014, while working on my dissertation on Emily Brontë, I suddenly realized that it was rather strange that I had never been to Yorkshire.
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I was just up from bed; even the sun was not quite high yet. Some shalik birds were quarreling on top of the trees near the backyard gate and I was wondering how to ask mother for the plantain chops that were kept in the shika from last night's dinner.
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I met Olga Grjasnowa early this November when she came to a program at ULAB jointly hosted by the University and the Goethe Institute Bangladesh. She had a couple of sessions at the Dhaka Literary Festival too.
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A reader can perhaps assume from the back flap of Fayeza Hasanat's debut collection of short stories that the pieces revolve around a woman's position in society, familial relationships and identity that is constructed for her.
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It was Ramadan. It was hot. Even though I was sitting inside an air-conditioned car, I could feel the heat. I was dozing and counting minutes and wondering how much time we Dhakites waste everyday in commuting.
