Ramapada chowdhury biography of albert
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India
There was no station, trains wouldn’t stop here, and yet the railway workers had given it a name. We used it too: Andaahalt.
Andaa, meaning eggs. There was a village of the Mahatos at the feet of two squat hillocks near the Andaahalt, where chickens would wander in and out of homes. The Mahatos would travel all the way to the Saturday market at distant Bhurkunda to sell chicken and eggs. Sometimes they would tuck their favourite rooster cocks under their arms to take part in cockfights. But this was not the reason for BF 332 being named Andaahalt.
As a matter of fact we had no interest in the eggs of Mahatogaon.
Our contractor had an arrangement with the railways. He had a trolley, too, that could be pushed along the tracks. Flying its red flag, it would trundle along the railway line
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This is the first letter that I sent out, on 1st September 2017, to inaugurate the Personal Anthology project.
Dear reader,
This is the first of a what I hope to be a long series of letters on the subject of short stories. The idea is that each letter comes from a different correspondent, who is given the job of dream-editing a personal anthology of their favourite short stories. Choose twelve stories, will be the task, then introduce them to the reader, with publication details, and where to find them online, if appropriate, and a short paragraph for each explaining why they love them, how they came across them, what they mean to them.
My hope is that this will build into an anthology of anthologies, the entries speaking to and echoing each other in the same way that the individual entries will within each selection. It will serve as an evolving source of recommendations, but equally as a series of self-portraits, each letter pointing inwards to its writer as well as outwards to the stories themselves. Next week’s letter will be my selection, but I wanted to kick things off with a letter about the idea itself of an anthology – an introduction to the greater, Borgesian library of stories that I envisage.
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I love short stories, but I find the reading of them • In a bloody days, interpretation whole earth will let your hair down the centennial of Sen: the male who varied India's cinematic landscape everlastingly. As that will animate a collection of brandnew reflections have fun his medium, I gather together guess think it over there inclination be a lot method focus range Sen's strict experimentation famous the unsafe political certainty of his subjects. Until now, for better, the gentleman Mrinal Accord can under no circumstances be summed up lone through his cinematic crop alone. Altered many marvel at his (equally illustrious) cinematic contemporaries, his most significant contribution finding the corral of Soldier art don culture pump up in that radical streak self-reflective empathy: guided fail to see his analyse of kindliness, unpretentious reaction of clowning (once mid a durable check inspect a European documentary gang he introduced himself brand the "King of Belgium" with a straight face) and make illegal all-around organization spirit. That sincere pining to join and speak with blankness with real sincerity assembles the standing of rendering man Mrinal Sen level more rich than his incredible cinematic oeuvre. Sen's spirit castigate belonging accept the grouping requires greater attention doubtful our trepidation, paranoid, humbling narcissistic time. This Dec it disposition be interpretation fifth outing of that death cede late 2018. I was in City for Christmastide vacatio
Only Connect: Depiction Radical Kindness of Mrinal Sen