Dilruba Z. Ara's Blog
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May.24.2013
The voice on the phone was polite, slightly curious: “...We found your text messages on his mobile...my uncle lived alone.” The voice lingered. I don’t remember how the conversation went. I was disorientated, even as I listened. I leant against the wall, slowly gliding downwards. Your full throated...
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4 comments
May.09.2013
Here is a poem that I wrote after my father's death.
An Ancient Pain
Forty four years and nine months ago
In a dimly lighted room,
In a cosy little cottage in Bengal,
My father had put half of me into my mother’s womb.
Other half of mine was waiting within...
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Mar.17.2013
Today, I am posting one of my poems, which I wrote when my son Navid suddenly outgrew me. Hope you enjoy reading it.
My Son’s Shoes
I was going to throw the garbage outside-
And couldn’t find my shoes,
For my son had just come home -
Not alone but with a bunch of...
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9 comments
Feb.16.2013
Extract / A List of Offences
1
A Bottle of River Water
A whisper went round the little village of Gulab Ganga during the days around Daria’s birth. It said, “Jharna Begum, Daria’s Ammu, defied God when she refused to give up the thought of having a daughter.” She had her...
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Dec.27.2012
SMS
I stand by the stove, my face bent over
boiling rice. Bubbling over. There's a muffled drone
from the dishwasher.
In the background my husband plays the sitar.
Beatles' Yesterdays. My mother- in- law smokes her hookah
scented with rose essence.
I hear nothing, but...
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Dec.09.2012
Death
A heart shaped sore on his thigh;
Leech like blood clots in his catheter,
Swimming in saline water.
Phlegm in suction machine,
Broken teeth.
Two hundred and fifty milligrams liquid food
In a feeding-pipe.
Fear in eyes.
Needle marks everywhere,
Voice buried in his mind.
Body...
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Nov.26.2012
When She Misses Him
A sudden stillness!
A caesura - splits the line of thought, broken
connection.
Mind flying in ambiguous
directions. Colours and laughter
and dreams
chopped up. Two halves!
An embryo of pain
drops
into the bunker of feelings...
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Nov.17.2012
The Mosque-Yard Imam
For various reasons, patriotism is an emotion that becomes very palpable when one lives abroad. This feeling has grown in me too, since I left Bangladesh, my native land. I’ve now spent more than half of my life in Sweden. I’m married to a bona fide...
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Nov.11.2012
The Last Day of a Red Tulip
Early in the morning when the sun was still invisible,
The red bulb stood there in the middle of my green front yard
Tall and erect, illustrating a kind of phallic arrogance.
Like Lord Shiva in a temple.
But when the sun came...
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Oct.29.2012
Here are some of the reviews for my debut novel A List of Offences. It's currently available for Kindle, and is soon to be a print book, as well.
“In the world of literature, I recommend A Thousand Splendid Suns (Hosseini), A List of...
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“American readers that enjoy Pamuk, will enjoy Ara. Ara’s is a highly literary style, though less philosophical. Both authors give precise insights into, albeit different, Muslim cultures… Ara’s writing sustains the reader’s interest in three important ways…her extraordinary rich description…her deft and subtle humorous characterizations…the character of Daria is an intense study.”
Anthony Grooms, Author of Bombingham and Professor of Creative Writing, Kennesaw State University,
USA, The Chattahoochee Review ”
—The Chattahoochee Review
About Dilruba
Dilruba Z. Ara was born in Dhaka, Bangladesh and developed an interest in books
at a very early age. She was nurtured on Greek mythology by her father, and her
mother read her Indian fairytales as bedtime stories. Involved in literary activities
throughout...