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Showing posts from 2014

The God Boy // short story by Rahad Abir

The boy was born with a tail.
After three girls, finally, a boy. The mother and her newborn received great care during the birth—care that was absent during the female births.
The nail-like protrusion of flesh, less than half an inch, right on the top of the boy's tailbone, didn’t concern the parents initially, until it started to grow. It grew to an inch within six months. On a market day, the boy’s parents went to see a doctor.
The doctor examined the protrusion thoroughly. ‘‘I’ve never seen anything like this.’’
The boy began to cry. The mother looked at the doctor. She tried to calm her son, nestling him against her chest, rocking him. The doctor asked for some more details and ended up saying, ‘‘I don’t see any harm in it. Don’t worry, just leave it as it is.’’ He was right; the boy was healthy apart from the protrusion. Because it was more than an inch by that time, you might have actually been tempted to call it a real tail.
And then a new problem arose. Neighbors began a…

What is it with King Lear

By Rahad Abir
Yes, what is it with King Lear? Shakespeare is pretty old. Almost everyone knows the tragedy of King Lear—either somehow read it in school or watched the production. So, as the University of Findlay Theatre Program in the Department of Visual and Performing Arts is going to premiere King Lear on November 6, you might wonder what’s new here and why should one care about it?
The very same question, when asked, Dr. Christopher Matsos, assistant professor of Theatre, who has done the adaptation and directed the play, stated, ‘‘Shakespeare tends to be overdone in a mediaeval setting. So, I decided to set the play in a modern American city that is really struggling financially, and the city started to crumble.’’ ‘‘I haven’t really seen one of King Lear that was modern, and I didn’t feel that the full play was what our community is really asking for, so I edited it into about a 90-minute version,’’ he added.     
But, interestingly all of Shakespeare’s original language and poetic…

The Smell // short story by Rahad Abir

It was a fine morning on Sunday, the first day of the work week, and should be rush hour in Dhaka—loud and boisterous, traffic both on the streets and sidewalks, and different confusing lines of waiting-to-board people, occupying half of the streets. But today, the streets looked quiet and still and deserted. Almost everything was shut down. Sohani wished she’d have skived off work today. She had no idea that today would be the longest day of her life. While very few buses were running, few street tea-stalls were open, and few people were seen out and about. Rickshaws dominated the empty streets. Something in everyone’s eyes, something in the air, too—smelled different. Ma called three times this morning; her concerned voice implied why on earth you brave this horrible situation to go to office? It was needed because some papers must be sent to the central bank today, she told. To protest the proceedings at the war crimes tribunal, it was the first day of an unbroken three-day nationwi…