The first day I went to school, the first thing I was asked to say was my name. I started my education that day with my family-given name. His name was Hafizul Islam Miazi. Miazi is my family’s name. I do not understand the meaning of these designations. The biggest truth for me is that I am human. On whose head stands the generous sky. Everyone in my family calls me Roney.

I had to stay at boarding school for a long time after coming to Dhaka. Then I started living on my own. I have started writing little by little. Bengali blogs were very popular at the time. I started blogging with the name Rupali Guitar as a blog nickname. Even though my official name is Hafizul Islam, I used the name Nirob Mahmud as a double pseudonym for the convenience of walking online. I also write under this name in various magazines, such as Little Mag. Since then, I have introduced myself as Nirob Mahmud.

As there were different types of variations in the studies, everyone tried to guess my age from my studies or degree. I am quite a loner and very socially distant. I was born on a day of heavy rain, constantly learning little by little from life. I am living in my small world. In this era of extraordinary advancements in technology and globalization, one’s character seems very inconsistent.

Through the winter wind and the silver fringe of Paush’s frost fog, I will be very close to my dear people. Sometimes I will come down to their yard full of sky-scraping Jyotsna. I will see the smooth path of their happy daily lives. This might be good. Maybe this will be quite…

I love to read books. I want to read most things in print. Therefore, authors or topics are rarely selected and read. It also has disadvantages. There is also a lot of rubbish to be read. Still, I love to read. love travel I like to think of myself as a backpacker traveler. love mountains I secretly cherish the dream of becoming a mountaineer.

I have a long habit of living with the fewest resources. So the preoccupation with people’s rush to success amazes me. People’s indifference hurts me. I live in a different world of my own making. Where emotion prevails over reason, people still know how to cry.

I spent my childhood in Chittagong, a district in Bangladesh. I used to live in the Agrabad Fire Service Civil Defense Quarter due to my father’s job. It is there that I become familiar with the world around me.