গল্প

The lady tries to make her face grimy, terrible, dreadful as like the Death. Spread out the eyes in full length. Shouting like the Thunder. Dancing like snakes. As she is coming to kill the girl.
The girl starts acting. She makes herself a statue. A frightened statue. She knows this keeps the drama rolling. She starts watching.

Original: কুখ্যাত জারজ
Translator : Fahmim (ফাহমিম)
Editor: Rikta (রিক্তা)

Momena Begum continued in a monotonous voice,

- I am Momena Begum, wife of Habibur Rahman, daughter of Hazrat Ali Lashkar.
- How old were you?

shivering cold.
wrapped up in all kinds of pajamas, sweaters, coats, blankets- we walk, on the frozen ice. Even the dead leave the place in cold.
Hands become numb in few minutes. legs covered in woolen socks are aroused by the chilled wind. the wind strikes us like spikes.

Midnight is approaching. The pungent smell of medicine again reminds me that I am in a hospital. I look up. My head has drooped on my chest in exhaustion; from morning to afternoon I was on the move in search of a rare medicine and finally found it in a small medicine corner in Old Dhaka. The expiry date sealed on the bottle was only a month from then. I hesitated. But there was no option.