TRANSLATIONS: ARUNAVA SINHA

Arunava

Midnight: by Achintya Kumar Sengupta

I was posted at Kandi in Murshidabad district. The two-storied house we lived in was rather…
Swapan is Dead, Long Live Swapan: by Udayan Ghosh

Dharitri-debi no longer looks at herself in the mirror. She cannot comb her own hair, either.…
Twenty-five Years After – or Before: Buddhadeva Bose

[A restaurant in an international airport. It must be assumed that the restaurant is huge, with…
The Strange Course of Love: By Buddhadeva Bose

Ila is pacing up and down restlessly in her room when Shobhon appears outside the door.…
The Terrace: by Ashapurna Debi

Kanka had checked the clock a while ago. Two-thirty in the morning. Rising quietly from her…
Lovers: by Buddhadeva Bose

I climb out of the Subway on 110th Street. The end of June, the beginning of…
Love and the Madman: by Nabarun Bhattacharya

We young men from rich families have a unique rhythm to our lives. Perhaps young women…
Farewell to Spring: by Ashapurna Debi

Bilu would have to sing at the annual college celebrations. With what amounted to a hunger…
The Cuckoo and the Lorry Driver: by Sunil Gangopadhyay

I looked around furtively. Had anyone seen me? Many people had, obviously, but no one I…
The Offering: by Pramatha Choudhuri

European civilisation had not yet thrust its horns into our village; in other words, the railway…