Tahmina Akter Mili

Daily writing promptIf you could rewrite any book’s ending, which one would you choose?View all responses There is a Bengali book called “Boro Didi” by Sharatchandra Chattopaddhay. I would like to change the ending for that book. I would like Surendranath to stay alive and marry Boro Didi (Madhabi). They needed to express their love while they were able to meet each other and love each other a…

The sky is open—white and blue it spreads,A boundless dream that whispers peace to me.It stretches far beyond the city’s hum.Beyond the noise of restless, racing minds.I lift my eyes, and something deep awakens—A stirring soft, like wings that long to rise.I watch the clouds drift slowly into shapes.That seem to breathe, to dance, to drift with ease,And in their calm, I find a part of me —The…

The shoreline stretches wide beneath the sky.Its silver edge dissolves in beating waves.I came on duty, bound by work and time,Yet found my heart unfastened by the sea. The ocean called me with its breath of salt.Its whispers circled round my restless mind,And every murmur seemed to wash awayThe rigid voice of duty, the weight of care. I wandered on, the sand beneath my feetStill warm with…

It’s been nearly 13 years since you slipped away.But still, you breathe in the corners of our days—In the hush before dawn, in the clatter of plates,In the way we speak softly, or clean, or wait.You held eight hearts in your tireless hands.Built dreams from dust, with no demands.Coins were few, yet grace was vast—A kingdom of kindness shaped by your past.Your voice, though gone, still guards our…

  This morn, while sun climbed slow through dusty skies,  I walked and watched the city breathe and move.Each soul, a ghost within its fleshy shell,  Did chase the Ticking Hour Like Hunted Deer.No laughter stirred the wind, nor warm exchange —  But muffled steps and horns that wailed like grief.With weary limbs, they flung themselves to wheels—  Rickshaws, and buses yawning out black smoke,  As…

So here I sit—no, stand! I never could.Abide the stillness long—my restless soul  Always half-brimmed with motion, like the tide  That never asks the moon for leave to rise.The year? I think it’s thirty-two, or close.My hair’s still short—brunette, but streaked with grey—  Though wisdom came far earlier than age.The denim’s frayed; I wear it still with pride.These sneakers, scuffed, have walked…

The air is thick with whispers of the past,  A heavy smog of sorrow laced with dust.  The rivers, once alive with silver streams,  Now choke on remnants of our thoughtless hands.  The trees stand still, their voices growing faint,  No rustling leaves, no murmurs in the wind.  The birds have left, their songs a distant dream,  Replaced by sirens wailing in the dark.  The streets are filled with…

You live in me, you pump my heart into life,  A rhythm soft yet firm within my chest.  Each breath I take, you whisper in my veins,  A voice unseen but never far from reach.  Through midnight hush and dawn’s uncertain glow,  Your pulse remains—unwavering, alive.  You flood my limbs with warmth when winter bites,  And cool my skin when summer presses close.  Without your beat, my steps would turn…

The airwaves hum with echoes from the past,A voice that bends the night in silver tones,Where time dissolves beneath the crackling soundOf longing hearts and fleeting melodies.The DJ speaks in cadence, smooth and low,With velvet words that drift like autumn leaves—A lexicon of sound, both rich and rare,That paints the world in hues of frequency.The needle drops, the vinyl spins its tale,A golden…

  A gentle hand extends with quiet hope,  its fingers trembling, waiting for my grasp.  A love so pure, so steady in its glow,  yet in my heart, no fire dares to rise.  How cruel is fate to gift what I can’t take,  to place such warmth before my hollow hands.  I see the kindness woven in those eyes,  the silent prayers wrapped in every glance.  I do not turn away nor cast disdain,  for love…

Through dappled woods where sunlight gently plays,And streams with silver tongues sing soft and low.I wandered in the morning’s misty breath,Thinking of you, my love, who now departs.The meadow, decked with daisies newly born,Seemed lonely beneath the azure dome,As if the earth herself did mourn your steps.The brook that murmurs secrets to the ferns,Whose curling fronds now droop as if in…

Upon the weary day’s relentless yoke,When time doth drag its leaden heels along,The clock’s dull chime becomes a mournful knell.Each task a mountain, each breath drawn with strain.The din of commerce, harsh and ceaseless, fillsThe ears with clamor and the soul with weight.Yet lo, the homely gate swings wide at dusk.And there, beneath the humble lintel’s arch,A countenance so fair and softly…

The clock winds down, a gentle whisper fades,A year has now passed, its pages were nearly full.Resolutions etched in January’s frost,Some met with triumph, others left to dust.I vowed to climb the mountain of my fears.And some I scaled, their summits were broad and bright.Yet others stand, their peaks still veiled in mist.Awaiting strength, I’ll gather with new dawns.Friendships blossomed like…