Published Poem

I recently submitted a poem to Robi, an online literary journal, by Bangladeshi Identity Project. As it says on its introduction page, this journal in intended for the Bengali diaspora by the Bengali diaspora. It’s for us Bengalis that belong there, in our native country, but call this place our home too. Despite speaking our…

Dadi’s Garden

I wanna go back 😭. I spent the first six years of my life here. This specific window led to my grandmother’s tiny garden. Every once in a while she would have it opened to tend to the plants. We both would stand on this side of the window watching the plants being watered or…

The Voices of Despair

This is a recount of my father during the Liberation War. It was about the time he became separated from his family when Pakistani soldiers stormed his village and they were forced to leave everything and flee for their lives.

Growing Up

I was raised by dadi, wise and bold, a book in one hand, and a watering can in the other, flowering her rooftop plants. Waking up, at the crack of dawn, the sun stretching and yawning. She whispers. SubhanAllah

Where I’m From

I am from Dhaka, The heart of Bangladesh. I am from the close-knit family That always stood together under one shadow. I am from my grandparent’s village, Where the love of nature grew in my heart, Just like it was there always. I am from the grandparents Who loved and raised me with care. I…