Sandip Roy

The anger in Bangladesh indicates that history needs engagement and renegotiation; it cannot be preserved inside a mausoleum or used as a bludgeon

New Delhi, Aug. 17 -- Through the broken glass Of a library window The burning books Can't be read. So new ones

The grey-haired woman in a sari seemed uncertain if she could walk all the way in the march to protest the brutal rape and murder of the junior doctor at R G Kar Medical College and Hospital in Kolkata.

Sandip Roy attends a raucous protest about the recent rape and murder of a junior doctor at the R.G. Kar Medical College that brought out thousands of women who are tired of excuses.

How a century-old Park Street icon became the city’s unlikely LGBTQIA+ haven.

Even when we are confined at home, the phone relentlessly beeps and pings, an orchestra of manufactured busy-ness. Can we savour moments unencumbered by filters, hashtags?

Perhaps naming these victims Abhaya and Nirbhaya allows us to not introspect about how we as a society failed them. The names we choose say more about what we retroactively project on to them rather than the reason they need these aliases in the first place

At this time of the year the narrow lanes of Kumartuli in North Kolkata are bustling with frenzied activity.

The first question friends and family asked after my maiden trip to Bangladesh over a decade ago was invariably, “Did you have ilish? Was it really good?”

The first presidential debate between Donald Trump and Kamala Harris yielded at least one line that was heard around the world.