Written by KAMRUL ISLAM Your winter-colored sari indicates that you'll go a long drive at the end of the night, the persistent yellow of mustard field will appear in the north sky... Now the lamp of disappeared books and furniture of your home does not fall asleep under the canopy of agriculture... We see nothing but some helpless bees sitting at the end of the path with indivisible management of trees... A tale of a painting brush supersedes the darkness of long-march for the sake of blooming flowers of the next world... Then the winds of the less-used street sing the news of early morning and our youth of feelings recollects the unending zone of winter evening...
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