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"It was a wonderful experience interacting with you and appreciate the way you have planned and executed the whole publication process within the agreed timelines.”
Subrat SaurabhAuthor of Kuch Woh PalNadia Jesmine Rahman’s debut collection, October Sun, is born from the quiet rhythms of everyday life, gathering small moments and holding them to the light. Her poems draw from shifting seasons, the comfort of home, and the gentle pauses most of us overlook. She believes that when one sits still long enough, thoughts rise softly from silence, like mist lifting after rain. Her work has appeared in Muse India, The Assam Tribune, and the e-book anthology Monsoon Moods. Now living in a quaint little hamlet in the hills, she writes from the deep stillness around her. Petrichor remains one of herRead More...
Nadia Jesmine Rahman’s debut collection, October Sun, is born from the quiet rhythms of everyday life, gathering small moments and holding them to the light. Her poems draw from shifting seasons, the comfort of home, and the gentle pauses most of us overlook. She believes that when one sits still long enough, thoughts rise softly from silence, like mist lifting after rain. Her work has appeared in Muse India, The Assam Tribune, and the e-book anthology Monsoon Moods. Now living in a quaint little hamlet in the hills, she writes from the deep stillness around her. Petrichor remains one of her favourite words, an echo of the world after rain, and of the tenderness she hopes her poems carry.
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‘In the poetry of Nadia Jesmine Rahman, the past is reincarnated as a lived reality replete with vibrant sensory images. At the same time, her poems urge the reader to confront existential questions. The abstract entities of colour and taste, love and voice take refuge in concrete forms. Rahman voices her inability to sketch a parallel world, but her poems lure the readers into such a realm where the unitary senses reshape the poetic voice with the freshness of dynamic expressions’. – Bijoy Sankar Barman - poet, writer, translator.
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‘Will I find the solace tree
‘neath which
I can curl up like a mongrel
for a slumber?’
In October Sun, Nadia Jesmine Rahman gathers the shifting seasons of life—its griefs, its soft astonishments, its quiet rebellions and turns them into luminous, intimate verse.
Moving through childhood alleys, rain-soaked cities, ancestral silences, and the tender spaces of love, these poems hold the world gen
‘Will I find the solace tree
‘neath which
I can curl up like a mongrel
for a slumber?’
In October Sun, Nadia Jesmine Rahman gathers the shifting seasons of life—its griefs, its soft astonishments, its quiet rebellions and turns them into luminous, intimate verse.
Moving through childhood alleys, rain-soaked cities, ancestral silences, and the tender spaces of love, these poems hold the world gently. Here, the world is made of little things—a fallen leaf, a mongrel’s wail, the hum of a prayer, a pressed flower, a whisper of spring.
With a voice both vulnerable and bold, Nadia writes of losing and finding oneself, of homes carried inside the body, and of the stubborn ways hope returns.
A collection for anyone who has ever longed, healed, or bloomed again.
‘Will I find the solace tree
‘neath which
I can curl up like a mongrel
for a slumber?’
In October Sun, Nadia Jesmine Rahman gathers the shifting seasons of life—its griefs, its soft astonishments, its quiet rebellions and turns them into luminous, intimate verse.
Moving through childhood alleys, rain-soaked cities, ancestral silences, and the tender spaces of love, these poems hold the world gen
‘Will I find the solace tree
‘neath which
I can curl up like a mongrel
for a slumber?’
In October Sun, Nadia Jesmine Rahman gathers the shifting seasons of life—its griefs, its soft astonishments, its quiet rebellions and turns them into luminous, intimate verse.
Moving through childhood alleys, rain-soaked cities, ancestral silences, and the tender spaces of love, these poems hold the world gently. Here, the world is made of little things—a fallen leaf, a mongrel’s wail, the hum of a prayer, a pressed flower, a whisper of spring.
With a voice both vulnerable and bold, Nadia writes of losing and finding oneself, of homes carried inside the body, and of the stubborn ways hope returns.
A collection for anyone who has ever longed, healed, or bloomed again.
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