#bengali writer

[zeherili-ankhein]

I am realising now that Katukutu buro was downright a pedophile 💀

No because what is

“ছিঁড়বে পেটের নাড়ি”

“একলা পেলে জোর করে”

“হাসির চেয়ে কান্না আসে বেশি”

“তবুও তোমায় হাসতে হবে তাকিয়ে বুড়োর পানি”

“গায়ের উপর সুড়সুড়ি দেয় লম্বা কালো লয়ে”

“চিমটি কাটে ঘাড়ে”

“কিছুতেই নেই ছুটি”

.....I was so scared of this made up man as a kid, and now while reading it again I am even more scared 😭 somehow this seemingly funny kids poem managed to have such heavy things may that be knowingly or unknowingly

@foreignink

[myladytara]

বিয়ে আর প্রেম সম্পূর্ণ দুটো ভিন্ন ব্যাপার।

প্রেমের ফ্যাসিনেশন নিয়ে বিয়ে করতে গেলে আপনি পস্তাবেন নিশ্চিত থাকুন।

আপনারা একই প্যারেন্টিং-এর আন্ডারে, একই রেস্ট্রিকশনে, একই পরিবেশে বড় হওয়া ভাইবোন নন।

টোটালি ডিফরেন্ট জীবনদর্শনের দুজন মা��ুষ!

আপনাদের পরিবেশ, মানসিকতা সব আলাদা। এটা মেনে নিয়েই বিয়ের পিঁড়িতে বসতে হবে। একসাথে বড় হওয়া ভাইবোন কি পরিমাণে ঝগড়া করে, সেখানে আপনারা কতটুকু ঝামেলা করবেন, কতটুকু আন্ডারস্ট্যান্ডিং মেইনটেইন করবেন, ইটস টোটালি আপ টু ইউ।

প্রেমের সময় দুজন সারারাত ভেবে, অপেক্ষা শেষে কাবার্ড খুলে সব থেকে সুন্দর কাপড়টা পরে, তৈরী হয়ে, বেস্ট পারফিউমটা মেখে দেখা করেন, যাবতীয় সুন্দর কথা একজন আরেকজনকে বলেন।

বিয়ে তা নয়!

বিয়ে জগতের সুন্দরতম অসুন্দর জিনিস!

বিয়েতে জড়িয়ে থাকে রান্নাবেলার ঘামের গন্ধ।

সন্ধ্যার অফিস-ফেরত ক্লান্ত ঘর্মাক্ত শার্ট।

একটা উলটো করে রাখা শু, তার পাশেই পরে থাকে সারাদিনের ব্যবহৃত মোজা। বিছানায় ভেজা তোয়ালে। রাতের ভারী নিঃশ্বাসের শব্দ, কখনো কখনো নাকডাকা। সকালের ঘুমভাঙা ব্রাশ না করা বাসী মুখের বাসী চুমু। বাসায় পরে থাকা পুরোনো, ফুটো হয়ে যাওয়া কিন্তু কমফোর্টেবল গেঞ্জি, হাফপ্যান্ট কিংবা ম্যাক্সিটা। বিয়ে মানেই হাজার নোংরা জিনিস!

কোথায় যেন পড়েছিলাম-

পৃথিবীর সবচেয়ে জঘন্য কথা হয় স্বামী-স্ত্রীর মধ্যে।

এবং সবচেয়ে সুন্দর কথাও হয় স্বামী-স্ত্রীর মধ্যে।

এরা রেগে গেলে একে অপরকে এমন নোংরা কথা বলে যা অন্য কেউ বললে হয়ত খুনোখুনিটা না হলেও আজীবনের জন্য মুখ দেখাদেখি বন্ধ থাকতো। কিন্তু সেই রাগ শান্ত হলেই এদের মত মধুর সম্পর্ক আর নেই।বিয়ে করার আগে, একশোবার ভাবুন। কথা বলুন সব বিষয়ে! সময় নিন।

ঠিক তেমনি, বিয়ে ভাঙার আগেও,

একশোবার ভাবুন। কথা বলুন সব বিষয়ে! সময় নিন।

সহমত হলে শেয়ার করুন।

🖋️ Srabonty Dey

[literaryvein-reblogs]

A List of "Beautiful" Bengali Words & Phrases

for your next poem/story

Āguna - fire

Amader - ours; belonging; sense of community and collectivism

Ami shobai ke bhalo chai - I want everyone to be good

Āśā - hope

Bolo na janoa kichu - say something, please

Br̥ṣṭipāta - rainfall

Buddhiman - intelligent

Cā - tea

Chokh - (or cōkha) eye

Chomotkar - said when one looks at something in wonder; magnificent

Cirantana - eternal

Diganta - horizon

Ghore - home

Golpo - stories

Haashi - (or hashi) smile; laughter

Kichu na bola jay - don’t say anything

Kotha - words; speech

Moner agun - the burning fire within one’s heart; passion, desire

Mukhosh - mask

Phula - flower

Prem - (or prēma) love

Raag - anger; rage

Samprīti - harmony

Shundor - beautiful

Śubharātri - goodnight

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 ⚜ More: Word Lists

If any of these words make their way into your next poem/story, please tag me, or send me a link. I would love to read them!

[yourdailyqueer]

Manabi Bandyopadhyay

Gender: Transgender woman

Sexuality: N/A

DOB: Born 1964

Ethnicity: Bengali

Occupation: Professor, reality star, writer

Note: First openly transgender Indian college principal

[structuredchaoticmelancholy]

[sajra-savera]

You know you're down bad when you start using those manifestation techniques online to make them love you back.

[ayowotsdis]

Keeping my earth shattering imposter syndrome at bay, let's talk about my biggest project ever. Which I probably will never complete. But I love to talk about it.

So like I have this story in my head which I call the fantasy book in my head. Its a asoiaf meets bengal kinda thing. I like to call it grimdark, my friend who I narrated the main premise to said "that's straight up horror dude"

But like yk, bengali folklore and our love of ghosts. The main character is a very complex being (not exactly human, at least not anymore.) My main characters humanity, that died before the start of the story, haunts the narrative and the being she is now.

I'm worldbuilding so hard but like, it's genuine fantasy so a lot of ghosts and of course since my Bangladesh is a riverine country, a lot of river related geography and the rivers are characters of their own.

Also this story came to me in a dream on 23rd November 2014. I was chilling in Dhaka as an 8 year old. A lot has changed since then.

Also the main characters family is basically descended from shath bhai chompa. I'm crazy. And it's a huge plot point.

Also a lot of baghs and well a lot of environmentalism. My mc is a product of environmental manipulation. It's basically mother nature sends you as a fuck you letter to the government.

Also, a "spirit" haunts my main character the whole time (like bikrom betal/vikram betal). And then there's the whole body, heart and soul symbolism.

The prologue chapter starts as a putul nach scenario. Honestly will I ever finish this? Probably not. But if I ever do, will it just be me making jabs at my colonisers, the government and every authority figure there is? Yup. Also a lot of indigenous representation cuz Bangladesh sucks at that. Yeah no wonder I'm going insane. Also my main motivation to write this is to be present at the bengali ghost Wikipedia page at the writer's section.

[jochona]

i was 5 when I was taught

that when passing sharp objects

you turn the sharp end towards yourself

so no one gets hurt

I was told that this is what love is

when i hand you the knife

the blade turned towards me

and i whisper soft prayers

to a god who never listens

"i hope they make it quick this time"

And I'll wake up one night

with your silhouette over me

the outline of your broad shoulders

your eyes that put the stars to shame

and your pretty hands working the dagger into my gut

you leave when dawn breaks

and as I lie in my own crimson mess

I'm just grateful you spent the night with me

this was inevitable wasn't it?

i was the one who handed you the knife in the first place

still I prayed this time would be different

I am terrorized by my inability to hate you

if you promised to protect mon coeur,

why'd you bite?

[mariaseelie]

Commissioned Scene from A Corporate Arrangement by Shar Khan ( @

shariva.writes on instagram )✨ a bi x bi and fake dating rom-com

Preorder it here !!: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0D6QS55GM?ref_=pe_93986420_775043100&fbclid=PAZXh0bgNhZW0CMTEAAaZTOwO-rd3o-fi5XFW3TsQjsUS5H7Ogr_EdRLAg16EpL54c1vRfvSmxVic_aem_fsSlniRgv29fI2YY1y-5Iw

[ik-kudi-da-khwab]

mere standards isi aurat ki wajah se high hai @kaalboisakhi i feel so fortunate sometimes that I'm loved by her

[myladytara]

Do you also listen to “Iktara” on your way home like me? On days when it's raining, softly, and all your dear heart desires nothing but a warm cup of tea. Dear, that fixes everything.

Sometimes, I think, maybe learning to make tea is the key to keeping two people in love, forever. But what do I know about love or tea for that matter? I only know that when someone makes an effort to make something for me, I have it regardless of the amount of sugar or salt. It’d be a sin to find any fault.

Iktara or ektara, the one-stringed musical instrument, carries one beat at a rhyme, one dream at a time. Like an ektara, I only have a few words to say. I’m afraid it’ll take me a lifetime for me to say them since I’m quite hesitant and shy. But if I make an effort to say them someday, will you listen to me without finding any fault? Just like I don’t mind the amount of sugar or salt.

©Jaser Rambles

[msbrishti-echoes-unplugged]

You ever read or watch something and find reference of some other writer that you like..Like I love when that happens

[thesongoffadingaway]

যে কটা দিন তুমি ছিলে পাশে,

(𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘺 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦,)

কেটেছিলো নৌকার পালে ঠোঁট রেখে ।

(𝘐 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘢𝘵)

আমার চোখে, ঠোঁটৈ, গালে তুমি লেগে ছিলে,

(𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴, 𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘬,)

আমার চোখে, ঠোঁটৈ, গালে তুমি লেগে ছিলে ।

(𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴, 𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘬.)

যেটুকু রোদ ছিল লুকোনো মেঘ,

(𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥𝘴,)

বুনেছিলাম তোমার শালে ভালোবাসা ।

(𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘸𝘭 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤��𝘪𝘰𝘯.)

আমার আঙুল, হাতে, কাঁধে তুমি লেগে ছিলে,

(𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬, 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘱𝘴,)

আমার আঙুল, হাতে, কাঁধে তুমি লেগে ছিলে ।

(𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬, 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘱𝘴.)

-Je Kawta Din (Reprise) by Anupam Roy, Iman Chakroborty.

[sadcoresushi]

🎀 one degree hotter 🎀

[randomlyblue]

In the early hours of the morning, a 15 year old girl trudged out to the living room, pillow in hand, before light had even broken out over the horizon. It was 4:00 a.m. but the room was charged with a fervent sort of energy, a giddiness that finaly peaked when Birendra Krishna Bhadra's sonorous voice rang out with the first words- "আশ্বিনের শারদপ্রাতে". 

It was মহালয়া- the beginning of 'দেবীপক্ষ'. I do not think that any words, except the ones privately spoken by each Bengali to Ma, of his wishes and woes, hopes and sorrows in silent prayers between the chants during Ashtami's Anjali, can convey the feeling in his heart as one by one, all the houses are filled with 'আগমনীর গান' while the sun slowly creeps into sight like a sleepy child unable to stay away from the excitement of all his aunts, uncles and older cousins huddled outside infront of the radio with tumblers full of steaming, milky tea.

There is a certain quiet beauty in the knowledge that every year since 1931 when the show first aired, Bengalis within Kolkata and without have been dutifully waking up at 4 o'clock to welome our Maa home. A five year old girl rubs her drowsy eyes infront of the radio as she hears the voice she will learn to eagerly wait for throughout the year when she grows older, for the first time. Lying propped up on the cushions in her hospital bed, much to the protest of her nurses, her great grandmother ruefully smiles when she realises that it would be her last time, and for a glorious hour and a half, the pain of the cancer in her liver bows down to মহিষাসুরমর্দিনী. A large joint family gathers in front of the antique record player, with endless cups of tea and aluminium tins of biscuits under the arches of their ancestral home in North Calcutta, where only a few days later, they would welcome their very own Ma Durga. In the servants' quarters, the 'rannar thakur' sits on the front steps of his tin roofed home with his thin daughter and thinner wife, and his stomach's grumbles of hunger are drowned out by the music carrying from the record player. A Muslim boy, not daring to tell his orthodox father, cycles to his Hindu classmate's house before the sun rises to catch the first strains of Aagomoni. For মহালয়া does not merely mark the coming of Ma, it marks the advent of hope in the form of our ten-armed Goddess for every Bengali, irrespective of his age, social standing or religion. Even if it may be just an old recording playing from some houses on the streets, to me and to any Bengali, it seems more like on one magical day every year, all the clouds in the sky strike up a wonderful heavenly orchestra of voices, filling all the empty spaces in the sky, till Ma Durga herself comes to fill up the place waiting for her on the mandaps and in our hearts.

-Priya

[intellectual6666]

শুধু তোমাকে ভালোবেসে

বুঝেছি নিখিল বিষ কী রকম মধুর হতে পারে

- জীবনানন্দ দাশ