As India marks 75 years of its independence from more than two centuries of British rule, the country’s Prime Minister Narendra Modi today (August 15, 2022) flagged corruption and nepotism among the biggest two challenges saying graft is eating into the country like termites.

Metaphors have never made more sense to me than when these two swapped but intertwined lives personified India and Pakistan, the two newborn countries, whose births were marked by blood, pain and trauma.

The government of Bangladesh has strongly rejected what it says some visible "politically motivated efforts" of some corners to mislead the people by showcasing the upcoming visit of UN High Commissioner for Human Rights Michelle Bachelet as an occasion to "put undue pressure" on the government.

The poems of Shamsur Rahman, Al Mahmud, and Shahid Qadri have been translated by Kaiser Haq, M Harunur Rashid, Kabir Chowdhury, Zillur Rahman Siddiqui and Rifat Munim for the edition.

Honourable president [of Bangla Academy], president of the reception committee, guests from abroad, representatives from the diplomatic corps and the respected audience,

The event will discuss the Bengal Partition of 1905, a second Partition of Bengal—and the Indian subcontinent in 1947—and the birth of Bangladesh in 1971. The Salon will showcase aspects of these partitions, living histories that bind India, Pakistan and Bangladesh.

We are drawn to stories about first experiences, and YA literature is rich with it. First experiences draw us in because they are the crucible for change.

Zaman has classified the pieces in two groups: "the early stories focus on the events that took place on 21 February—the processions, the police action and the deaths—while the later ones show how the attitude to Bangla has changed in these 70 years.

Perhaps the book's best aspect is how it allows space for the stories of those who perpetrated violence during Partition.

Workers of 241 tea gardens across the country enforced a work abstention today, demanding increase of their daily wage – Tk 300 from Tk 120.

If you didn’t read The Sandman, watch The Sandman. If you read The Sandman, don’t expect the same magic as in the pages.

“Bhabi, do you remember Banu?” my paternal aunt Janu phupi asks Amma. We are in the middle of a grand celebration—I am getting married and today is my gaye-holud. My grandmother barks, “Don’t mention that ill-fated girl now. She tricked us all.”

The world is encountering an unprecedented scale of injustices all over. Each of us is replete with a never-ending number of complaints.

Paul argues that colonial education rather sowed discord and contributed to unequal divisions of labour between Hindus and Muslims.

Against the backdrop of the sacking of senior minister Partha Chatterjee – arrested in school recruitment scam, West Bengal Chief Minister Mamata Banerjee today carried out a reshuffle of her council of ministers inducting eight new faces, five of them with cabinet rank, including singer-turned-politician Babul Supriyo.

It has been 24 years since Fuad Almuqtadir’s first album, “Maya”, released. Since then, the musician, composer and sound engineer has been synonymous with hit music. After 7 years, Fuad has announced that he is ready to return to making new music full-time, in an exclusive interview with The Daily Star.

Fire & Blood is the historical retelling of the reign of the Targaryens as told by the fictional Archmaster Gyldayn, and it is a compressed version of all the things that make A Song of Ice and Fire so fun.

There are many platforms that integrate writers and poets. But somehow, academics are only thought of when one becomes a celebrity. Literary Matters, an online literary discussion series, was launched by The Daily Star in May 2022 with the thought of bringing in the up-and-coming academics who are also involved in other creative and intellectual areas.

There’s no other way but to go numb. But then the excruciating job is to make oneself un-numb.

She woke up to milky streetlight spilled on the bed, his exposed neck in its creamy glow. The dark dip between the wings of the collar bones a misshapen waking eye. Keeping watch. She shifted the weight off her right shoulder to turn to the other side. The shoulder was pulsing a heart-beat rhythm of pain. Pain unlike the kind he had brought on a million of his people. A million pairs of hands that would swim oceans, leap mountains, brave war-zones, to switch places with her. For access to that throat. She landed softly on her left. It was time for the other shoulder to share the pain.