Category: Need New Stories

KUNJNAGAR PARK & THE HAAT

Jaldapara National Reserve Forest once boasted its exotic and lush green beauty with tigers, elephants, deer, chitahas, ghorials, and myriad birds like parrots, mynahas, peacocks, doves, herons, wood-peckers, sparrows, cuckoos, of exotic hues and cacophonies. One can see in the brilliant radiance of blazing sun set the crowd of parrots and sparrows flung over one’s head. Your hair will be flicked with a bird’s sudden swift flight almost touching your head. Somewhere in the upper sky among the tinged cloudlets a lone eagle lazily supervises his vast empire. His eyes glisten, and far flung heavy wings mellow with the reddish

WHY IS ‘SILENCE’ GOLDEN?

The great Indian Self hates Truth. It demands subordination, and acquiescence of the self. And the elites of Indian bustling cities of grace and squalor love to paddle in the murky and darkened realms of inequality, illiteracy, superstition, injustice, usury, ethnic cleansing, malaise and inhumanity, child labour and poverty. Prophet loves the poor and millions of Indians are poor and thereby they have unknowingly been the true votary of the Prophet. Rare is the leader like Gandhi who loves to face the Truth with all its ugliness and crudeness. It invites no enemy and eases the ladder of wealth, position,

THE LURE OF “HO-OOLE”

Now when he said to Shama: “Hole! That’s what your family has got me in.This hole!”… Now he keeps his address as secret as an animal keeps its hole. And his hole was not a haven. His indigestion returned, virulently; and he saw his children increasingly riddled with nervous afflictions. Savi suffered from a skin rash, and Anand suddenly developed asthma, which led him in bed for three days at a time, choking, his chest scorched and peeled by the futile applications of a medical wadding.                             

A VISIT TO MUNDAPARA

Between the Jaldapara forest and the village lay an acre of land, cultivated, furrowed, unweeded. Yards had patches of all sorts of vegetables, maize, and tall lean betel nut trees. Men and women still working on their fields. Children were all barefoot and some of them had running nose. Elderly men and women sat on their haunches on the dusty path, and gossiped. It was winter. The day was chill and icy. The sun for the whole day hid his face under the veil of smoky clouds. And a mild breeze blew. It added more bitterness to the cold. Still

Among the Children

AMONG THE CHILDREN

Last week I visited nine or ten school children. The school was in the middle of a Adivasi village. The children sat on the dry grass and dust, and the headmaster on a red plastic chair. I spent a hour with them. The children all were wonderful, and the teacher was so kind. And I loved the place. The school was surrounded three sides by vast farm lands, and only by one side a path went to the interiors of the village. It was late noon, and the weary winter days were in adieu mood. The trees began to shed

POST-INDEPENDENCE BENGALI MUSLIM LITERATURE: A STUDY OF SELECT TEXTS

Abstract: Key Keywords: Literature, Bengali Muslim, Identity, Representation Literature whether it is regional, national or global always inspires, invigorates, and energizes us to look at life’s great mystery and miracle from multitude heterogeneous contours. It deepens the meaning of life in its colourful and painfully beautiful foliages— splendours and glories, hopes and aspirations, loves and expectations, sorrows and tears, strength and endurance, death and doom, diseases and pathos, the courage and resilience of a sea of humanity. And Bengali Muslim literature aims at giving many of the said life’s innate shades to humanity in general and to the Bengali Muslim in

LAYERED MARGINALITY OF BENGALI MUSLIM OF WEST BENGAL: AN INTROSPECTIVE STUDY

Na kisee kee aankh ka noor hoon Na kisee key dil ka quaraar hoon Jo kisee key kaam na aa sakey Main v eek musht-e-ghubaar hoon -Bahadur Shah Zafar (1775-1862) Introduction Of every four persons in West Bengal, roughly speak ing one is a Bengali Muslim. Despite their numerical density and participation in different socio-economic activities their identity is basically singular, based only on their religious affiliation. They are solely “Muslims”. All other identities (Bengali, professional, educational, economic, residential etc.) are never acknowledged and often suppressed by popular lazy media, and concocted, unscrupulous power-hungry religious and political leaders and even

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Subhash Chandra
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"A gifted writer"

A gifted versetile writer who writes excellent stories and poems on the invisibles, pariahs, margins, aged, weaklings of our society. A rising star on the literary firmament.
Santosh Bakaya
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Praise for my writing

“Your story Undersell left me with a lump in my throat, so did your poem, He also lights candles.”
Louis Kasatkin
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Praise for my poem "Elderly Men Two"

"A finely honed observational piece recording the minutiae of everyday life. Rendered with the author’s customary poetic aplomb suffused with a Borges like quality of the mythic."

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