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Poetic Prisms and Festival: Finding Wings to Creativity It is the spontaneous flow of poweful feelings, as the Romantic...

Her true nightmare... The woman strutted to the tall mirror mounted on the cracked, termite-eaten, wooden cupboard. She...

The Bitter Irony No acrimony. No shudder. No ecstasy. She is inscrutable. She is inexplicable. She is inexorable. She fu...

"Bounce back" An effigy tied, A stick in the arm, Mud pot tilted on the head, A scare crow guarding the houses, To avert...

Stringent fate Each on glance is blank inquisitiveness, all time restless is the infant in the cossy waist lap. The prid...

"The Bewitching Hour" Deep in the dark of night lying awake your image burned into my imagination eyes closed as dreams...

MOTHER’S HEART Woman takes pride to become a beloved Mother. To give birth a baby, she confronts dreadful fear. Ten mont...

Though, yet According to my clock It's morning. But, here is darkness. Fog covers my city. In winter season My dear city...

It is sad to grow old I feel like unbosoming myself to you dear. I wish I could make you feel how badly I miss my spent...

এ কেমন আলোর উজ্জ্বলতা এ কেমন দিন, এ কেমন আলোর উজ্জ্বলতা, যেখানে বিশ্বাসের চারা মাথা তোলার আগেই, সমূলে উৎপাটিত হয় চোখ থ...