I love the texture of your hair and I wanted to tell you about it in far too many words than either you or I are comfortable with.
Beyond the celebration of Eid, this book also explores themes of love, loss, and the grief of spending a special occasion without a loved one.
I stared at the row of pre-peeled and packaged tangerines sealed tightly under plastic wrap.
You tell me stories of the sea—of its waves, of how it speaks to you in a language only you can understand—whenever you write back to me.
Rank badges, small bags, books, diaries, notebooks, files… That’s when it caught Razeen’s eye: a weathered, dusty old envelope bearing a faint, unrecognisable logo.
This is an excerpt from Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay's short story "Abhishapta", translated by Dipty Rahman
It is enough— Enough to be here, Beneath the bulb of a wonton shop.
I know of my feeble frame of its graying at the edges.
migratory animal Are you looking for a home?
From every direction strong torrents meet Collide, counter, and begrudgingly recede.
You must have heard the story of your birth a thousand times by now, sweetheart. Your mother and I—home alone.
It’s hard not to recall our many conversations about literature as I try to summarise Shah Tazrian Ashrafi’s debut collection of short stories. They were always short discussions, opening and closing off in spurts, as happens over text. Exclamations over a new essay collection by Zadie Smith, or a new novel by Isabel Allende.
If you travel on a bus, always take the window seat.
After the previous tenant vacated the house, Khan E Alam decided not to accommodate any younger residents.
There are few novelists as cruel as Hanya Yanagihara—and in A Little Life (Doubleday, 2015), her pen draws blood. Nine years on, the controversy of the 800-page character study of an irreparably broken protagonist is still ablaze with accusations that it sadistically exploits trauma for profit.
This week, Kyla Zhao, the author of Valley Verified (Penguin Random House, 2024), graced us with an exclusive interview to give us insights into the changing trends in Asian American literature.
Again, I wasn’t a poet, but words and sentences jumbled up seeing that small face, light make-up enhancing her beauty. A loose strand of hair cascaded down her cheek, framing her face.
The majority of my early childhood was spent in a big house filled with endless possibilities. At least, that’s what my preteen self thought at the time.
"...it is our responsibility to contribute to ways in which more translators can work well, be compensated fairly and find the work worthwhile enough to continue doing it"
