Tag: Bidrohi Kobi

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Nazrul Translations

Break All Shackles: Nazrul

Professor Fakrul Alam transcreates powerful lyrics by Kazi Nazrul Islam

From Public Domain

Smash the iron shackles of prisons.
Make them all disappear.
Free yourself from the shackle of worship.
Young ones—do what befits you best
Sounding horns signifying demolition,
Break through all Eastern ramparts.
Play music for the Supreme One.
Who’ll Lord over you? Dare to act kingly
Or threaten to punish you?
Who is truly free and really sovereign?  
Ha, ha, ha! I feel like laughing.
Will God Himself wear a noose? Destroyer!  
Who tipped the flame with such awful news?
Oh crazy, forgetful one, storm and rock prison bars.
Yank them with sudden force.
Pull, pull them with gale force.
Bear on your shoulder a kettle drum,
Beating it rhythmically, summon Death.
Let drumbeats bring it back to life!
Let’s see you shake the base of all forbidding prisons.
Kick them hard; break, break their locks. 
Burn, burn all prisons and do away with them!
A rendition of the song in Bengali from Coke Studio, Bangladesh

Born in united Bengal, long before the Partition, Kazi Nazrul Islam (1899-1976) was known as the  Bidrohi Kobi, or “rebel poet”. Nazrul is now regarded as the national poet of Bangladesh though he continues a revered name in the Indian subcontinent. In addition to his prose and poetry, Nazrul wrote about 4000 songs. 

Fakrul Alam is an academic, translator and writer from Bangladesh. He has translated works of Jibonananda Das and Rabindranath Tagore into English and is the recipient of Bangla Academy Literary Award (2012) for translation and SAARC Literary Award (2012).

PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles

Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Amazon International

Categories
Nazrul Translations

The Path of Hope by Nazrul

Nazrul’s Lyrics translated from Bengali by Professor Fakrul Alam

Born in united Bengal, long before the Partition, Kazi Nazrul Islam (1899-1976) was known as the  Bidrohi Kobi, or “rebel poet”. Nazrul is now regarded as the national poet of Bangladesh though he continues a revered name in the Indian subcontinent. In addition to his prose and poetry, Nazrul wrote about 4000 songs. 
Pictures from Public Domain

Generations after generations I’ve trod the path of hope.
Yet, O desert wayfarer, there seems to be no border in sight. 
Year after year have come and gone for someone like me.
When I tried quenching my thirst even as my eyes watered
Lighting up hope’s lamp futilely, mirages crowded my vision.
Hundreds of songs seemed to sing out of desert groves
Which once upon a time must have been part of the ocean.
Desert wayfarer that I am, I see its watery expanse in dreams
And think of the ocean’s bottom, where my craft had sunk—
A craft I was in with my mate whom I keep looking for now!

A Bengali rendition of the song by Feroza Begum (1930-2014)

Fakrul Alam is an academic, translator and writer from Bangladesh. He has translated works of Jibonananda Das and Rabindranath Tagore into English and is the recipient of Bangla Academy Literary Award (2012) for translation and SAARC Literary Award (2012).

PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles

Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Amazon International

Categories
Poetry

Therefore: A Poem by Sukanta Bhattacharya

Translated from Bengali by Kiriti Sengupta

Sukanta Bhattacharya
Sukanta Samagra

Sukanta Bhattacharya (15th August 1926-31st May 1947):  Called “Young Nazrul” and Kishore Bidrohi Kobi [1], Sukanta Bhattacharya died at the tender age of twenty of tuberculosis. He, like Nazrul, wrote poetry to protest the colonial atrocities. His poems describe the suffering of common people and looked forward to a world free of exploitation. His writings were anthologised in Sukanta Samagra (Complete Works of Sukanta, 1967), published posthumously, simultaneously in East Pakistan and West Bengal.

The once-paved paths 
 are now vitiated. 
    How can I endure 
       the trauma without 
         divine intervention? 

Death, death, everywhere... 

Life's earnings 
   must be renounced. 
    When the means 
      become futile, 
       they are best discarded like tattered rags

[1] Youthful Rebel Poet: Nazrul was called the rebel poet of Bengal. He wrote a poem called Bidrohi or Rebel and his poetry had been that of rebellion like Sukanta Bhattacharya’s.

Kiriti Sengupta has had his poetry featured in various publications, including The Common, The Florida Review Online, Headway Quarterly, The Lake, Amethyst Review, Dreich, Otoliths, Outlook, and Madras Courier. He has authored fourteen books of poetry and prose, published two translation volumes, and edited nine anthologies. Sengupta serves as the chief editor of Ethos Literary Journal and leads the English division at Hawakal Publishers Private Limited, one of the top independent presses established by Bitan Chakraborty. He resides in New Delhi. Further information is available at www.kiritisengupta.com.

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PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles

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Nazrul Translations

Nazrul Lyrics Translated by Fakrul Alam

Professor Fakrul Alam translates two songs by Nazrul on social isssues from Bengali

Kazi Nazrul Islam (1899-1976)

Born in united Bengal, long before the Partition, Kazi Nazrul Islam (1899-1976) was known as the  Bidrohi Kobi, or “rebel poet”. Nazrul is now regarded as the national poet of Bangladesh though he continues a revered name in the Indian subcontinent. In addition to his prose and poetry, Nazrul wrote about 4000 songs.

Arise O Woman
 
Arise, o woman, arise flaming!
Arise, daubing your forehead blood-red,
Everywhere unfold your flaming tongue.
Dance wildly—excited, inspired.
Arise, hapless, maligned snake,
Awake, kindling the world aflame!
Burn briskly, o fume-filled smoky one,
Arise, mothers, daughters, brides, wives, nieces.
Arise prostitutes, cast out, exiled ones
With the tidal force of the Ganges, arise,
Down-trodden ones. Streaking clouds with lightning
Arise, aroused by Durga, the ever-triumphant one.
‘Arise O Woman’ performed in Bengali 
Two Flowers on One Leafstalk 
 
Hindu and Muslim -- two flowers on one leafstalk --
Muslim its jewelled eyes, Hindu its heart and soul! 
In the lap of their mother, the same sky is reflected,
Where sunlight and moonlight alternately sway. 
Within their bosoms the same blood courses
While the same navel string binds the twain.
We breathe the same earth mother’s air
And drink the same earth mother’s water.
In her bosom, the same fruits and flowers grow.
In the soil of the land are burial sites quite akin --
Doesn’t matter if one is called Gore -- the other Shoshan!
We call out to our mothers in the same language.
We sing for them songs strung in similar tunes!
‘Two Flowers on one Stalk’ performed in Bengali

Fakrul Alam is an academic, translator and writer from Bangladesh. He has translated works of Jibonananda Das and Rabindranath Tagore into English and is the recipient of Bangla Academy Literary Award (2012) for translation and SAARC Literary Award (2012).

PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles

Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Amazon International

Categories
Nazrul Translations

Nazrul’s Lines for Tagore

Ghumaite Dao Shranto Robi Re (Let Robi Sleep in Peace) was written by Nazrul in 1941 for Tagore, when he died. It has been translated from Bengali by Professor Fakrul Alam …

Tagore takes his leave on August 7, 1941. Photo from Public Domain
Let the spent Robi sleep on.
Please, please don’t try to wake him up.
Let not the one who spread light all his life
Be awakened; don’t disturb his sleep.
Let the one who gave light and delighted thousands,
And has now collapsed at mother earth’s bosom,
Be ritually smeared with sandal paste on his forehead;
Don’t redden his face by weeping incessantly!
Even at the risk of straining yourself, stretch out your palms
To accept the power and the strength he has given you.
The departed Sun and Supreme One will enable us to succeed
Let the poet sleep on!
The departed Sun’s glow will still light up our interiors.
So, from within yourself pay him homage every day.
Don’t make him weep by shedding continuous tears!
A recording of the first performance of Nazrul’s lyrics in Bengali

Born in united Bengal, long before the Partition, Kazi Nazrul Islam (1899-1976) was known as the  Bidrohi Kobi, or “rebel poet”. Nazrul is now regarded as the national poet of Bangladesh though he continues a revered name in the Indian subcontinent. In addition to his prose and poetry, Nazrul wrote about 4000 songs.

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Fakrul Alam is an academic, translator and writer from Bangladesh. He has translated works of Jibonananda Das and Rabindranath Tagore into English and is the recipient of Bangla Academy Literary Award (2012) for translation and SAARC Literary Award (2012).

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PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles

Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Amazon International

Categories
Celebration

Welcome to Nazrul’s World

I’m a cyclone, a whirlwind,
	I pommel all that lie in my path,
	I am a dance-driven swing,
I dance to my own beat, I’m a free spirit, high on life...

-- Kazi Nazrul Islam, Rebel or Bidrohi, translated by Prof Fakrul Alam.
Young Nazrul

Nazrul’s writing has the power of whirlwind or a tornado — it can break with its force and make with love. His songs are a law unto themselves and called Nazrul geeti. And all this remains popular and still relevant more than a century after he was born.

Kazi Nazrul Islam (1899-1976) was born in Burdwan, a part of the Bengal Presidency that stretched from Bengal to Singapore during colonial times. Nazrul lived through the colonial rule, the independence of the subcontinent, the Partition and the creation of Bangladesh. He was multifaceted — he had tried his hand at soldiering and then settled for being a poet, writer, journalist, and musician. He is now regarded as the national poet of Bangladesh, the Bidrohi Kobi or the rebel poet. 

Nazrul teaching Nazrul Geeti

Here, we have tried to gather flavours of his writing and life. We start with the translation of his lyrics (a Nazrul geeti) on butterflies, translated by Fakrul Alam performed by the legendary Feroza Begum, move on to his response to Tagore’s poetry — they had a vibrant relationship as Somdatta Mandal has reflected in her discussion on Radha Chakravarty’s recent translation of his Selected Essays. It’s followed by more translations of three of his poems by Niaz Zaman, who has also written about Nazrul’s support for women. A searing essay on religious divides and socio economic gaps, translated by Sohana Manzoor, also brings to focus the plight of a beggar woman torn by poverty. A short story , showcasing him as a fiction writer, is borne of his experiences as a soldier. Last but not the least, we have a fiery speech by Nazrul from Chakravarty’s translation.

On Nazrul’s 125th birth anniversary, we welcome you to muse on him and his world…

Poetry

Projapoti (Butterfly) by Nazrul has been translated by Fakrul Alam from Bengali. Click here to read.

Nazrul’s rejoinder to Tagore’s 1400 Saal has been translated by Professor Fakrul Alam. Click here to read.

Three poems by Nazrul have been translated by Niaz Zaman. Click here to read.

Prose

 Deposition of a Political Prisoner: A Speech by Nazrul

A fiery speech by Nazrul from the Selected Essays: Kazi Nazrul Islam, translated by Radha Chakravarty from Bengali. Click here to read.

Temples and Mosques

Kazi Nazrul Islam’s fiery essay translated by Sohana Manzoor. Click here to read.

Hena

A story that grew out of Nazrul’s experiences as a soldier translated by Sohana Manzoor. Click here to read. 

Discussions

Nazrul and His World View

Somdatta Mandal writes about Radha Chakravarty’s translation of Selected Essays: Kazi Nazrul Islam and in the process explores his life and times. Click here to read.

When the Feminist and the Revolutionary Met

Niaz Zaman writes of the feminist leanings of Nazrul’s poetry in context of Madam Roquiah, a contemporary of the poet. Click here to read.

Categories
Nazrul Translations

Poems of Kazi Nazrul Islam

Translation by Niaz Zaman

Forgive Us, O Prophet 
[Kshama Koro Hazrat] 


We have not accepted your message. Forgive us, O Prophet. 
We have forgotten your ideals, the path you showed. 
	Forgive us, O Prophet. 

Lord, you spurned luxury and riches under your feet; 
You did not want us to be kings and nawabs. 
	All the wealth and treasures of this earth 
	Are for all to share in equal measure. 
You said all human beings are equal on earth. 
	Forgive us, O Prophet. 

Your religion does not reject those of other faiths; 
You have cared for them, sheltered them in your home. 
	Their temples of worship
	You did not command to be broken, 
	O brave one. 
But today we cannot tolerate those of other beliefs. 
	Forgive us, O Prophet.

You did not want shameful wars in the name of religion; 
You did not put swords in our hands, but your immortal message. 
	We have forgotten your magnanimity; 
	We have embraced blind intolerance. 
That is why blessings no longer shower upon us from heaven. 
	Forgive us, O Prophet.


These Lovely Flowers, This Luscious Fruit
[Ei Shundar Phul Ei Shundar Phal]

Thank you for all these bounties, Lord,
For these lovely flowers, this luscious fruit,
The sweet water of this river.
Thank you for all these bounties, Lord,
For these fertile fields of green and grain.
You have bestowed precious gems on us,
Brothers, companions, sons.
You give us sustenance when we are hungry
Without our asking.
Lord, I disobey your command every day
Still you bestow air and light on this worthless being.
You gave me the greatest prophet
To save me on Judgment Day.
That I might not forget the true path
You sent the message of the Holy Quran. 

 

To the Poets of the Future 
[Na-Asha-Diner Kabir Proti] 

O poets of the future, may you arise 
Like the morning sun, 
Bright and red like hibiscus blossoms. 
In the golden dawn for which we long 
May you wake up like countless flocks of birds. 
I sing in the hope that you will come 
To soar in the blue sky that I create. 
I leave behind the memory of my greetings to you: 
Play on my veena the song of the new day.

Born in united Bengal, long before the Partition, Kazi Nazrul Islam (1899-1976) was known as the  Bidrohi Kobi, or “rebel poet”. Nazrul is now regarded as the national poet of Bangladesh though he continues a revered name in the Indian subcontinent. In addition to his prose and poetry, Nazrul wrote about 4000 songs.

Niaz Zaman is an academic, writer and translator from Bangladesh. She has published a selection of Kazi Nazrul Islam’s work in the two-volume Kazi Nazrul Islam: Selections. In 2016, she received the Bangla Academy Award for Translation. “Forgive Us, O Prophet” and “To the Poets of the Future” were first published in Kazi Nazrul Islam: Selections 1, edited by Niaz Zaman (writers.ink, 2020).

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PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles

Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Kindle Amazon International

Categories
Nazrul Translations

Do Love My Songs

Nazrul’s lyrics translated by Professor Fakrul Alam

Painting by Jamini Ray (1887-1972)

DO LOVE MY SONGS

Dearest, even if you won’t love me,
Do love my songs.
Who remembers forest birds
When they cease singing and fly out of sight?
Whoever wants the moon by itself?
Everyone enthuses only about moonlight!
No one ever notices how wicks get burnt
When lamps emit their light!
Cut stems drip tear drops
But in time blossom as flowers.
But when plucking flowers and taking them away,
Do you ever think of helping the plant in any way?
All quench their thirsts with river water
But the act parches the riverbed so!
Seek, seek the river’s water in an ocean of sorrow…
But dearest, even if you won’t love me
Do love my songs!
A rendition of the original song in Bengali by the legendary singer, Feroza Begum(1930-2014)

Born in united Bengal, long before the Partition, Kazi Nazrul Islam (1899-1976) was known as the  Bidrohi Kobi, or “rebel poet”. Nazrul is now regarded as the national poet of Bangladesh though he continues a revered name in the Indian subcontinent. In addition to his prose and poetry, Nazrul wrote about 4000 songs.

Fakrul Alam is an academic, translator and writer from Bangladesh. He has translated works of Jibonananda Das and Rabindranath Tagore into English and is the recipient of Bangla Academy Literary Award (2012) for translation and SAARC Literary Award (2012). 

PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles

Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Amazon International

Categories
Nazrul Translations

Nazrul Translated by Niaz Zaman

Say Your Prayers in My House Today



O faithful one, say your prayers in my house today;

Below your feet I spread the jainamaz* of my heart.

I am a careless sinner,

Find no time to pray;

Touching your feet, may my sinful head be raised.

Wipe your ablution water with my garments,

Turn my house into a mosque by your touch today.

The Devil, through whose wiles

I do not find time to call upon God,

Will flee, hearing your call to pray.



*Jainamaz: A Prayer rug



The Passing of the Prophet 



What an amazing scene is this! Even Azrael’s eyes well with tears. 

His merciless heart trembles as at the onset of fever. 

	His stony fist, quick to kill, is still today. 

	His grasp is weak, his heart pierced, 

	His blue crown kisses the dust. 

Gabriel’s fiery wings have shattered to pieces. 

The world’s debt has been paid, but the heart is still in pain. 

	Mikhail ceaselessly pours 

	The salt water of the rivers 

On all the lands; in the dark night, the pines sway. 

Is this the same moon of the twelfth night? 

	The same Rabiul Awwal*? 



In the north-east a dark flag flutters. 

	Israfil’s trumpet of destruction 

Also sounds feeble today. The breast-shattering lightning weeps inconsolably. 

Why does the devil Azazel stand at the Prophet’s door? 

From his breast too tears flow, flooding the plains of Madina. 

	Borak raises his hooves above his head, 

	Tears through heaven and earth. 

	He weeps aloud, and, looking up towards 

	Heaven, neighs loudly. 

	Houris and fairies grieve, 

	Their eyes sparkling with tears. 

Today the flaming rivers of hell have turned to water; 

The narcissus and poppies of Paradise shed countless tears. 



Mother Earth weeps, clasping the corpse of her son to her breast. 

She carries the bier of her son, her body racked with sighs. 

	In the cave of hell, the jinns weep. 

	Will Solomon die a second death? 

	The doe forgets to nurse her young; 

	The sorrowful bird forgets to sing. 

	Flowers and leaves fall, a cold north wind blows. 

	The life of the earth is ebbing, her veins and arteries rent. 

	There is no end to mourning

	In Makkah and Madina 

It is the field of the Day of Judgement; 

Everyone rushes about madly. 

The Ka’aba trembles, and all Creation seems to gasp its last breath. 



The herald’s bugle sounds sadly today. 

Whose sharp sword slashes again and again at the distant moon? 

Abu Bakr’s tears flow in an endless stream, 

Mother Ayesha’s cries cause the heavenly stars to grow faint. 

Maddened with grief, Omar violently twirls his dagger, 

	“I shall beat the life out of God, 

	I shall not spare Him today.”

	The hero roars again and again, 

	“I will slash off the head of any one who dares to say 

	That the Prophet is no more – of anyone who tries to take him to the graveyard.”

	In his mighty hand, his sword he whirls. 



Who is that weeping inconsolably in every mosque today? 

	The grief-stricken muezzin’s call is faint; 

There is no strength in him, in his empty heart. 

Bilal’s voice breaks and falters as he calls the azan. 

Who recites the heart-wrenching call for the funeral prayer? 

Osman swoons, racked with pain, foam on his lips; 

The brave Ali Haider has been subjugated by his grief; 

	His double-edged Zulfiqar 

	Is blunt with sorrow. 

Alas, the Prophet’s beloved daughter Fatima weeps. 



“Where are you, father,” she cries, her hair dishevelled and unbound. 

Hasan and Husain writhe on the ground like slaughtered doves. 

“Where are you, Nana?” they call and search for him everywhere. 

	The light of the day has gone out, 

	The moon and stars have faded. 

	The world has grown dark, 

	Every eye sheds drops of blood. 

	The seas crest and foam to drown the skies above, 

	Except for their salty tears, they will leave nothing behind on earth. 

	God Himself is helpless, 

	His seat itself has shattered. 

He wishes to clasp His friend to His bosom, 

But how can He wrench away the one for whom all creation weeps? 



There is great festivity in Paradise today, great rejoicing. 

The houris and angels sing in unison, “Sallallaho aleihe sallam*”.

Standing in rows, they sing praises of the Prophet. 

Mother Earth weeps, unable to keep her son. 

“Have Amina and Abdullah come? Is the virtuous Khadija here?” 

Seeing the joy on the mother’s face as she sees her long-lost son, 

The Lord of the Universe laughs. 

	“God, what injustice is this?”

	Cry the children of the earth. 

Today the bright lights of heaven grow brighter still; 

	There is increasing happy laughter there.  

Only the light of Mother Earth is dimmed and darkness reigns. 

The laughter of the heavens rings out above the tears of earth, 

And from everywhere echoes the cry “Sallallaho aleihe sallam". 



* Rabiul Awwal : The third month of the Islamic calendar
* Sallallaho aleihe sallam : May Allah honour him and grant him peace


Born in united Bengal, long before the Partition, Kazi Nazrul Islam (1899-1976) was known as the  Bidrohi Kobi, or “rebel poet”. Nazrul is now regarded as the national poet of Bangladesh though he continues a revered name in the Indian subcontinent. In addition to his prose and poetry, Nazrul wrote about 4000 songs.

Niaz Zaman is an academic, writer and translator from Bangladesh. She has published a selection of Kazi Nazrul Islam’s work in the two-volume Kazi Nazrul Islam: Selections. In 2016, she received the Bangla Academy Award for Translation. This translation was first published in Kazi Nazrul Islam Selections 1, edited by the translator and published by writers.ink in 2020.

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PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles

Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Kindle Amazon International

Categories
Nazrul Translations

Equality by Kazi Nazrul Islam

Samya (Equality) by Nazrul, translated from Bengali by Niaz Zaman

I sing the song of equality – 

Of a country where fresh joy blossoms in every heart 

And new life springs in every face. 

Friend, there is no king or subject here, 

No differences of rich and poor. 

Some do not feast on milk and cream here, 

While others grovel for leftovers and broken grains. 

No one bows before the feet of horses here, 

Or before the wheels of motor cars. 

Disgust does not arise in white men’s minds here 

At the sight of black bodies. 

Here, in this land of equality, 

Black and white are not buried in separate graveyards; 

Nor do black and white pray in separate rooms and churches. 

In this land there are no footmen or guards, 

No policemen to evoke fear. 

There are no conflicting religions here, 

No cacophony of conflicting scriptures. 

The priest and the padre, the mullah and the monk 

Drink water from the same glass here. 

The Creator’s house of prayer 

Is contained in the human body and mind here; 

Here His throne of sorrow 

Is formed by human suffering. 

He responds readily here 

To whatever name He might be called, 

Just as a mother responds readily 

To whatever name her child might call. 

No one comes to blows here 

Over the different apparel one wears – 

Payjama, trousers or dhoti. 

Clad though in soiled or dusty garb, 

All are happy here.

Born in united Bengal, long before the Partition, Kazi Nazrul Islam (1899-1976) was known as the  Bidrohi Kobi, or “rebel poet”. Nazrul is now regarded as the national poet of Bangladesh though he continues a revered name in the Indian subcontinent. In addition to his prose and poetry, Nazrul wrote about 4000 songs.

Niaz Zaman is an academic, writer and translator from Bangladesh. She has published a selection of Kazi Nazrul Islam’s work in the two-volume Kazi Nazrul Islam: Selections. In 2016, she received the Bangla Academy Award for Translation. This translation was first published in Kazi Nazrul Islam Selections 1, edited by the translator and published by writers.ink in 2020.

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PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles

Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Kindle Amazon International