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Showing posts from December, 2007

A journey by tempo

It was 11 at night. I got down from the bus and crossed the road. The area is Pallabi, Mirpur. Rickshaws were not available during that hour to go inward direction. So, the best way was to ride a tempo. I see one waiting to be packed up. ‘Come, come, only two more seats left’, the little boy conductor was shouting to draw the attention of the passers-by. I got into it and squeezed myself through the narrow space (six inch) between the rows to take my seat. Here, who comes earlier sits just beside the door and who comes afterwards next to him and onwards. Although it is a big trouble for the next passenger to get inside, no one will give up his space for the other one. Only the female passengers, however, enjoy that privilege. Anyway, I sat at the last end and my side was packed but the opposite side needed one more passenger to start the journey. Soon one came but he refused to sit at the last end. In his row, there was a female passenger at the front. He requested the male passenger …

Amar Dui Premika Ebong Tiktiki

Amar Dui Premika Ebong Tiktiki
Rahad Abir
Oitijjhya, Dhaka.

Rahad Abir is a young journalist who does not appear to want to let go of his literary inclinations. That is quite natural, for he has been a student of English literature. The lessons learnt in class as also his experience of the national cultural perspective has led him into coming forth with this revealing, rather modern, collection of short stories.