- The Bangladesh Observer, April 22, 2003
On the back page of the Observer, I
See, in full colour, one more family
In mourning: three ladies screaming with grief
I cannot hear. The inset holds his head,
Eyes closed, blood smeared across the upper lip
And nose, mouth open, upper row of teeth
Visible, stubble of beard on his chin...
The powerlessness of love frames the frame.
These pictures used to be on the front page
Until there were too many of them, too
Often to be newsworthy: vote machines
Used by both parties, they perhaps serve some
Higher purpose - democracy, for instance,
Whose life-blood, newspapers, his blood will circulate.
At Bagerhat
We demand the immediate trial of the mass killers and rapists...
- poster at Bagerhat, south-west Bangladesh
We went to see old friends at Bagerhat;
They have a lovely new house, lovely children!We were expected, so our host had time
To cook us an unforgettable meal:
Fried fish, and chicken and beef curry with
Pilau; what big tomatoes, grown in her
Own garden! And to think the chicken had
Been running around in her yard in the morning.
The sense of plenitude was dashed upstairs,
The ladies out of earshot: nursing sleep-
Dispelling tea, he told me how six women
Had been raped the previous night in one
Household: democracy's routine! The goons
Were vote-banks for the party, so untouchable.
Sir, The present Bangladeshi films are unfortunately nothing but a load of rubbish and are in (sic) the height of vulgarity.... All that the films contain are semi-nudity, semi-pornography, indecency and obscenity.... Common masses pay their hard-earned money for such shows and are exploited by the filmmakers.
- Letters to the Editor, The Daily Star, 4th August, 2000Our intellectuals detest the smut
That's generated by the movie industry;
And yet they clamour for democracy
And freedom of expression! Middle-class
And middle-brow, our incoherent prudes
Watch Hollywood indecency with sweaty
Palms, itchy fingers: if it's from the west,
No titillation's terrible- terrific!
Only home-grown gyrations of the hips
Or pelvic thrusts into the amorous air
The masses watch with itchy fingers, sweaty
Palms, draw ridicule from our elite, who
Hold noses only over erotica
That's of the people, for the people, by the people.
Acrophobia
After an eighteen-hour flight Munira, a Bangladeshi woman, finally arrived at Dulles Airport in Washington D.C. heaving a sigh of relief. She took out her Green Card and held it out to the unsmiling immigration officer in front of her but he was busy thumbing through her passport.
Not looking up he said, "You have a visa for Saudi Arabia."
Munira's heart stopped.
- The Daily Star, Bangladesh, 19 September 2003
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