purnachowdhury

পূর্ণলক্ষ্মীর একাল সেকাল (সপ্তদশ পর্ব )

পূর্ণলক্ষ্মীর একাল সেকাল (সপ্তদশ পর্ব ).

পূর্ণলক্ষ্মীর একাল সেকাল (পঞ্চদশ পর্ব )

পূর্ণলক্ষ্মীর একাল সেকাল (পঞ্চদশ পর্ব ).

পূর্ণলক্ষ্মীর একাল সেকাল (চতুর্দশ পর্ব )

পূর্ণলক্ষ্মীর একাল সেকাল (চতুর্দশ পর্ব ).

পূর্ণলক্ষ্মীর একাল সেকাল (একাদশ পর্ব )

পূর্ণলক্ষ্মীর একাল সেকাল (একাদশ পর্ব ).

A Story

Chapter One A line is a poignant thing. It starts off with a nudge and lingers, readying itself to endless possibilities and confessions: an afternoon of forbidden memories or a desire to do dangerous things as the half dried clothes tremble on the clothing line, or streets tick away towards a dreadful evening. A handyContinue reading “A Story”

A Definition

“This is not a story to pass on”, she thought. It was about the toxicity of silence. She loved that phrase. Crooked. Ominous. Dark. Befitting. Growing up in the seventies wasn’t easy…lean, mean and hungry times, when parents whispered, thinking the girl was asleep. The night outside and the street lights were ready and waitingContinue reading “A Definition”

Of Food and Other Fallacies (Pages from Kolkata Notebook)

We shall not cease from exploration And the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time. T. S Eliot ‘Little Gidding’ No, this is no philosophy of poetry; this is about food, a culinary mapping of a city that continues to rise outContinue reading “Of Food and Other Fallacies (Pages from Kolkata Notebook)”

Her Story

A mother felt betrayed when a father fell on the landing, developed two little blood clots in his brain and sat like the torso of a fallen tree at the edge of the sofa, looking like a pearl fisher. His grey eyes saw eternity and nothing but. He smiled sometimes when the cosmic comedy tickledContinue reading “Her Story”

Doing Time…

‘Once upon a time…’ holds promises that didn’t lend themselves to the birth of Labanya L, born the fifth daughter (in lieu of…)to a conservative Brahmin mathematician and his nearly illiterate wife. The Brahmin was handsome. The wife was not. Labanya L picked up bits and pieces of both and blossomed into a girl not-quite-notContinue reading “Doing Time…”

A Sometimes Woman

Amounts…proportions… spices and a nonagenarian aunt (does one even use that word anymore?) how does one string all of those words together into a narrative? A dim lit corridor, sooty stain glass windows creating strange patterns on faces, hers and mine, especially on hers, as she walks up to greet a stranger that once wasContinue reading “A Sometimes Woman”