She walked, entranced, into the water until it reached her chin, the wing of her little pink butterfly stuck out like a shark fin.
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Ratan Da walked away, waddling the way he came from, whispering, “Don’t let it go to waste, don’t let it go to waste.”
Being a woman comes to me naturally If not me, then who? I was never asked to be one I was never asked to cook
This is a translation by Md. Abu Zafor of Bimal Guha’s “Kalo Biral” from the collection ‘E Kon Matal Nritya' (first published in 2022).