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-by Shaheen Akhtar |
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That day as well, father was awakened by the fazr call to prayer sung out by Sabbir Hossain, student of the Dakhil class, the lodging master hired for a meal a day. At any rate, the boy had a good voice, full-throated and melodious. Father did not get...Full Story.. |
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-Shaukat Osman |
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The jute godown had caught fire. There were thousands of jute bales in the large tin-shed. No one could say how the fire had originated. But as soon as the fierce tongues of fire leaped up and started to lick and swallow everything within reach the Fire B... Full Story.. |
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-Rabindranath Tagore |
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I
The widow in the house of Saradasankar, the Ranihat zemindar, had no kinsmen of her father's family. One after another all had died. Nor had she in her husband's family any one she could call her own, neither husband nor son. The child of her brot... Full Story.. |
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-by Syed Manzoorul Islam |
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When Shekool Arefin got up at nine in the morning he didn’t know that his photograph had appeared in two daily newspapers in Dhaka. Not that this was something to be pleased about. The Great World Trading Company, for which he used to work till a mon... Full Story.. |
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-by Marisa Anaman |
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He didn’t think about it much, but in the back of his mind, she was the baby of the family. Not that he felt much responsibility for her. He never was told that he had to take care of her – nowadays, older brothers don’t really need to look out for t... Full Story.. |
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-by Muhammad Zafar Iqbal |
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I woke up with a hideous cry. There was a trumpet beating inside my bosom. My entire body was soaked with sweat; my throat was as dry as wood. It took me a few moments to realize where I was. My body was trembling though I realized that I was sitting on m... Full Story.. |
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-by Maithilee Mitra |
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I must have met Gulzar when I was in my mother’s womb because I have no memory of life without her. She seemed to be part of my surroundings. We were awake and asleep at the same times, we ran after the same street hawkers and, in sun and rain, we played... Full Story.. |
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-Towheed Feroze |
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This damning heat was getting to Abrar. He had always hated the sun and the prospect of standing under it for ten minutes didn’t seem like a palatable idea. ‘Bloody hell, the driver should have been here,’ he swore in a suppressed tone but it was lou... Full Story.. |
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-Humayun Ahmed |
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Mr. Ishak simply didn’t like the rickshawpuller.
He had an impudent attitude, a sweaty face and long hair. It seemed to Mr. Ishak that the man could easily drive the rickshaw in front of a truck. He would totally ignore red lights and hagg... Full Story.. |
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-Dalia Abdal Megeed |
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With the fewest words and the simplest usages, the Egyptian short story starts with a gripping opening line. That line extends into the first paragraph; the part that either makes a story or breaks it. The paragraphs are put together, one after the other,... Full Story.. |
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