TRANSLATIONS: ARUNAVA SINHA

Short Stories

Nawab Sahib: by Banaphool

I saw Nawab Sahib thrice. Once, in person; and twice, in my head. Even the face-to-face…
All These Suicides: Sandipan Chattopadhyay

‘If this business of love had not existed,’ said Pinaki, ‘three-quarters of life’s troubles would be…
Blue Blood: Ashapurna Debi

It wasn’t exactly early evening – nearly twelve-thirty in the morning, in fact. Suddenly there was…
Repentance: Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay

Baladas Apte awoke and busied himself preparing for the day. It was Sunday, and a crowd…
Misplaced Hope: Rabindranath Tagore

Arriving in Darjeeling, I found the town enveloped in mist and rain. I felt little inclination…
The Game: Ashapurna Debi

The car left the tarmac highway to turn into a bumpy road. Touching her husband’s hand…
A Woman Scorned: by Parashuram

No. 3, Rhododendron Road, Ballygunge. It was raining torrentially. Garima Ganguly was seated near the piano…
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…