There was special promise in dew and bold literature. Deepali made short stories in Bharti, in which Dasturmata draw a good writer's signature. Most of the dew was written in the bowl, so also it was a new angle to look at. We also launched a combined novel with four people. The name was foursquare. Inevitably it did not end, who knows when dew and manners were cut off in some way. I am planning to write a novel together and then complete our first book, The essence of that book was that he did not learn to write directly in the book of life.
Buzz sat on the evening of Thursday evening on Thursday. I did not get a good hug, but got a good company, so that all the deficiency could be done. The first clash of love in the neighborhood when the love moved to Dhaka. When he went there, he opened the branch of Adiik, sent greetings to the people here:
Invincibles, accept my greetings.
You can not forget to come to Dhaka. Today is Thursday. In the small house in the evening, when the jalas are accumulated, I sit here and sigh, what should I do? Dhaka's sky is now clouded all the time, yet the art of poetry is not evolving. How is your sky look? The heart of any poet has grown up among you, the first to be heard in the caudal-slip (Forgive your unknowable, theft, the eyeballs of the eye, whose Badal-Priya El Clouds hidden under the cover of the heart, in the secret hiding of the heart?