শব্দ জোনাকি (Whispers of Fireflies)

S pain won the cup as the more deserving team. In contrast, Argentina appeared shattered and directionless; even Messi was nowhere to be found. I had hoped Messi would display his magic in the final match, but he could not. In reality, Messi's Argentina had already played their absolute best match of the tournament against England in the semi-final. There is no doubt that Messi himself is feeling the pain of this far more acutely than any of us. Congratulations to Spain. Argentina now faces the task of rebuilding the squad. I believe that no football team, let alone Argentina—could ever truly fill the void left by a player like Lionel Messi. Sending much love and best wishes to our beloved Messi. He has given so much to football fans over the years. Heroes create a legacy, and history cherishes it. Just as Lionel Messi’s legacy will remain in our memories—held in reverence and affection—history, too, will carefully preserve it. Farewell to a truly extraordinary magician of football...

D ear God, I ’m disturbing you—well, my mother says you listen to everyone, so you have to listen to me too. I often hear people say that you love the rich very much. If that’s true, then why did you send poor children like us to this world? And if you had to send us, why send us to a country as utterly poor as Bangladesh, God? People here are so strange. In the last two or three months, so many children have died of measles. I cried secretly for them. But look at the grown-ups—no one seems to care! They are always busy staring at their phones, watching funny videos, laughing, or taking pictures of their food. Even the uncles who write big books and stories haven't written a single line for those gone children. How can everyone be so heartless? I stayed silent back then, but after hearing about what happened to Ramisa, I am terrified. Tell me God, shouldn’t I be scared? No matter how much I talk, I’m only seven years old like Ramisa. Rahima Bua said a monster ate Ramisa. And she ...

  W hen people withdraw from protest out of fear, that fear no longer remains an individual’s private trembling. It slowly takes on a collective shape and settles heavily upon the chest of society. That society gradually becomes voiceless–mute. This muteness begins with the instinct to protect oneself from the state’s bloodshot gaze. An individual convinces themselves that silence is a shield, that hiding behind it ensures safety. Over time, what once felt logical only to a single person becomes the accepted logic of an entire community: staying silent is the sensible choice. As this mindset spreads from one to many, a convenient curtain falls over the injustices unfolding all around. The silent ones begin to think: “This is not my fight,” or “Why create enemies by protesting in hostile times? Better to stay quiet.” This attitude spreads like a domino effect. No one notices when morality is exiled. Those very voices that people once hoped would rise in protest become traders of pro...

H umans often show an innate disregard for what comes easily. Where prohibition looms, desire intensifies. The allure of the forbidden frequently outweighs the charm of the accessible. As a result, easily obtained things tend to lose their perceived value. Economic theory echoes this tendency: the law of supply and demand suggests that value is preserved only when supply remains lower than demand. When abundance floods availability, interest fades. Accessibility, paradoxically, breeds neglect. Love, too, can suffer this fate. What rests gently in our palms may slip away unnoticed, only to be mourned later. While not universal, many experience this as an inevitable curse. Familiarity veils affection, and that veil confuses us repeatedly. Humans seem to struggle to love with full vulnerability. The brain, in its quiet fight for survival, instinctively shields us, quickly dispatching perceived threats to hidden chambers of the mind. Perhaps this is why we forget even our deepest sorrows. ...

S hah Rukh Khan, affectionately known as the ‘King of Bollywood has lived a journey that reads like a modern legend. From the modest lanes of Delhi to the dazzling skyline of Mumbai, his ascent to stardom is not merely cinematic, but deeply human. He began his acting career on television in the late 1980s, quietly weaving himself into the hearts of viewers. Then came Deewana in 1992, his big-screen debut a film that marked the beginning of a career both meteoric and enduring. In the early years, he dared to play the anti-hero, embracing complex roles in Baazigar and Darr, long before he became the quintessential romantic icon of Indian cinema. But Shah Rukh Khan’s appeal goes far beyond the silver screen. He is a man of immense talent, generosity, and a sparkling wit that endears him to millions not just in India, but across the globe. I believe it is his human qualities, more than his cinematic triumphs, that have truly won the world’s affection. There are countless people who may nev...

Know-it-all Shamsher, while digging into his ear with a toothpick, asks: -What’s the matter? You look all sad-sad? -Not sad, pops. It’s just that when I’m overwhelmed with emotion, my face goes blank like this. -Open up the story, man. I was reading the newspaper. In the month of our Great Victory Day, three 'extra-great' bank robbers have been caught. Hearing the tales of their greatness has left me quite emotional. Who says humanity has been exiled from this country? Stopping his ear-digging, Know-it-all Shamsher let out a mocking cackle. Then, with a curled lip, he asked: -Do you really believe that '420-grade' script!? He winked, adjusted an invisible cap on his head, and spoke again: -Use your brain, then you’ll be able to ‘connect the dots. You’ll be able to realize.’ You’ll be able to ‘take initiatives’ so that such situations occur more often in the future. Do you understand what I mean? Would that be right? Besides, the three robbers are quite young. Two of the...

W riting is a quiet act of self-revelation. Often, writers give more than they realize through passing references to food, a character’s silence or a subtle turn of phrase. These are not arbitrary choices. They are emotional breadcrumbs, shaped by cultural codes that define how we express grief, joy and identity. For a writer living far from her homeland, a native language becomes both refuge and compass. Even in English, traces of heritage seep in, sometimes deliberately, sometimes unconsciously. Readers hunger for connection not from malice, but longing. We read to understand, to feel less alone, to glimpse the soul behind words. Autobiographical writing is curated. What’s withheld reveals as much as what’s shared. We receive fragments. Every story is shaped, every truth partial, every silence deliberate, every absence meaningful. Art becomes the bridge, allowing the writer to conceal and confess and the reader to reflect and reach. This tension between exposure and mystery, between ...

I was moved by reading Prakruti Maniar’s writing ‘Books are like People’, An article from the Purple Corner.That awakening of feelings occurred both as a reader and as a writer. What she's written is stunning, poetic, incisive, and deeply resonant. It captures the paradox of storytelling; the intimacy of self-revelation and the inevitable incompleteness of interpretation. I do agree with you Prakruti, profoundly. And here’s why, The Writer’s Vulnerability and the Reader’s Hunger: Writing as Self-Exposure Writers often give more of themselves than they realize. The “culture codes” she describes in those intimate, coded fragments, are the DNA of a writer’s soul. They’re not just literary devices; they’re emotional breadcrumbs. A dish mentioned in passing might be a portal to a childhood memory. A character’s silence might echo the author’s own grief. These details are not arbitrary, they’re confessions in disguise. Here I would like to briefly explain what Prakruti means by cultural ...

  H ow ow often in life do we get a chance to reminisce about the precious moments spent with cherished souls? Who even dares to pause amidst the chaos and extend a hand to such memories? Around us are people who selflessly shower us with love. They can be anyone – a blood relative, a family friend, a long-time neighbor or perhaps a stranger who stood by during a crisis. Do we truly remember these people? Or do we conveniently forget once the trouble passes? Do we pause often enough to reflect on how a small act of kindness from someone might have changed the course of our life? Do we express the gratitude the person deserves? Life compels us to move through different phases, causing memories to fade gradually as we lose ourselves in the battle for survival. Perhaps, deep down, we remain ever grateful. Yet circumstances keep us from reaching out. If ever that moment of opportunity stands before us, let us not lose it through idle excuses. Let us, at the very least, speak one magica...

L ack of sleep affects memory, immunity, productivity and mood. And it can cause depression. But have you ever considered that sleep deprivation might also make you selfish? Some studies suggest it does.  Research published in PLOS Biology found that sleep deprivation directly influences behavior, making people less inclined to help others. Scientists at the University of California, Berkeley, discovered that losing just one hour of sleep negatively impacts generosity and empathy. To support this claim, researchers analyzed 30 million donations between 2001 and 2016. They found that when daylight saving time began, people’s willingness to donate decreased by 10%. However, in regions where clocks remained unchanged, donations stayed constant. This raises an intriguing question: Does better sleep make us more generous? If sleep affects social behaviors so profoundly, perhaps prioritizing rest can foster a more compassionate society. Next time you consider skipping sleep, remember it...