Dhormer Age Nari ---------------- Hindu ar Muslim kore desher bayna, Keu aaj mile-mishe thakte aar chay na. Kintu aaj jokhon kotha othe nari-bhoger, Tokhon uchu-nichu, Hindu-Muslim kaukei chhara jay na. Nari manei jeno or opor shokoler odhikar, Taake bhog korte sadhu-neta — keu baad jay na aar. Mondire ghonta baje, mosjide azaan, Baire dhormer naame koto rokter gaan! Othochho ondho golite eka, ottachaarito, meyeti jokhon kaade, Dhormo tokhon daray ki taar pashe protibaade? Je haat guli sokale tole prarthonar phool, Raater andhare shei haat-i kore keno paap aar bhool? Jaat niye borai, dhormo niye juddho, Shobhyotar poshak porleo bhetorta oshuddho. Ghorer meyer jonno chai shat-tolar ghor, Onyer meye dekhle keno bodle jay nojor? Nijer boner chokher jol — jaeno pobitro dhaara nodir, Onyer boner aartonade kaan hoy keno bodhir? Netar mukhe narishokti, shadhur mukhe maya, Camera-ta shore gelei bodle jay kaya. Monche bole: “Ma amader, Debi amader pran,” Aral pele shei Debir-i kore dhorsh...
( Click this link to get the full novella on Amazon ) THE WOMEN WHO CAME BACK WRONG Two Bengali girls came to Germany to build a future. The dead had been waiting for them to remember the past. PART ONE THE WOMAN IN THE WINDOW Rinky saw the woman before the train stopped moving. She was standing in an upstairs window of a ruined castle. Impossible, of course. The train was moving too fast, the castle was too far away, and the rain had turned the glass into a trembling grey mirror. Yet for perhaps three seconds—no more—Rinky saw her clearly. A tall woman. A long grey dress. A white face. And one hand raised against the window. Watching the train. Watching her. Rinky jerked backwards so violently that the elderly man beside her woke with a grunt. “What happened?” Moupriya asked. “Nothing.” “You jumped.” “I thought I saw someone.” “Where?” Rinky looked again. The castle had vanished behind wet trees. She pressed her palm against the cold glass. “Nowhere.” Moupriya stared at her for a...