LIVING HERE ATLAS
LIVING HERE ATLAS
LIVING HERE ATLAS
LIVING HERE ATLAS


Mehrul Bari
























                                                                                                                        ︎
HEADER PHOTO: “Every Time You Torrent God Kills a Cinema,” Jo Amelia Finlay Bever // Flickr © 2009
nonfiction, may 24













about a lonely woman attending an all-night mystery movie marathon in london’s prince charles cinema.    she seeks companionship but fails to engage with anyone there.    after the show, at dawn, all trains back to canterbury—where she lives—are cancelled, and she decides to phone a childhood friend who moved to london.    the friend doesn’t pick up.




Would you believe me if this happened?




i was a lonely woman attending the all-night Mystery Movie Marathon in London’s Prince Charles Cinema. I met someone there, really I did. In the dark and I couldn’t see her face. She said this was her first time. I said mine too. We didn’t talk much, we enjoyed the films. There were 5 of them. The great muppet caper, the quick and the dead, who framed roger rabbit, streets of fire, and gremlins 2. I sat through the whole thing. It ended around 5 AM and I left. Outside, I turned around and saw she wasn’t there. I left and made for leicester square station. I was ill equipped for the weather. I had on a navy blue lab coat, a thrifted half sleeve purple cardigan, and a white t shirt. The wet cold wind went right through me. It was a mostly empty Chinatown. I waited for a while by the Underground entrance, facing the street. I thought maybe I’d see her. It didn’t matter that I didn’t know her face.




This didn’t all happen.




i didn’t phone my friend who lived in London—I texted him. It was 5 AM, and a weekday, and I felt guilty waking him up, and I didn’t have any plans if he did respond and we had met.




about a lonely woman attending an all-night Mystery Movie Marathon in London’s Prince Charles Cinema. This much is true. I stayed the whole way, really I did. Some people walked out. This was just before the last film, gremlins 2. But I stayed. The Eastern European lady who oversaw the marathon came out at the end. She congratulated us for making it through the whole marathon, and it was a rare sight to see so many people last till the end, she said. She told everyone to stay for 2 more minutes because there would be a group photo taken of us. This is when I walked out. I used the rear exit.




I did meet a woman in the theater but I didn’t engage much. I was so worried that our knees would touch or our elbows graze. I squirmed and sat with my legs and body tight through the screening after our first conversation in-between movies. I was no longer just someone in the crowd, I was myself, and someone was conscious of me. I hated the last 3 films because I was too aware of myself in the theater watching them.




Some of this is true.




i actually did stop and wait by the Underground entrance. It wasn’t to see anybody. I just thought to myself that this is London and it’s not every day you get to visit. I thought this but I didn’t do anything. Looking out into half empty Chinatown was all I did and it was truly freezing. My palms were in my pockets but they were twice their size. It was 5 AM and I think I was an insomniac at the time. And I left. I went into the station but all trains to Canterbury weren’t coming in for another hour.




What did I do? I don’t remember this. I believe I just waited.




















AUTHOR BIO
AUTHOR BIO
AUTHOR BIO
AUTHOR BIO

Mehrul Bari S. Chowdhury is the editor of Small World City. He is a writer, poet, visual artist, and website designer from Dhaka, Bangladesh. He received his MA in Creative Writing with distinction at the University of Kent in Paris, and has previously worked as the sub-editor for The Daily Star’s “Daily Star Books.”

His works have appeared in Permafrost, Sortes Magazine, Kitaab, and Blood Orange Review, among others. // instagram
HEADER PHOTO: “Every Time You Torrent God Kills a Cinema,” Jo Amelia Finlay Bever // Flickr © 2009
nonfiction, may 24





about a lonely woman attending an all-night mystery movie marathon in london’s prince charles cinema.    she seeks companionship but fails to engage with anyone there.    after the show, at dawn, all trains back to canterbury—where she lives—are cancelled, and she decides to phone a childhood friend who moved to london.    the friend doesn’t pick up.




Would you believe me if this happened?




i was a lonely woman attending the all-night Mystery Movie Marathon in London’s Prince Charles Cinema. I met someone there, really I did. In the dark and I couldn’t see her face. She said this was her first time. I said mine too. We didn’t talk much, we enjoyed the films. There were 5 of them. The great muppet caper, the quick and the dead, who framed roger rabbit, streets of fire, and gremlins 2. I sat through the whole thing. It ended around 5 AM and I left. Outside, I turned around and saw she wasn’t there. I left and made for leicester square station. I was ill equipped for the weather. I had on a navy blue lab coat, a thrifted half sleeve purple cardigan, and a white t shirt. The wet cold wind went right through me. It was a mostly empty Chinatown. I waited for a while by the Underground entrance, facing the street. I thought maybe I’d see her. It didn’t matter that I didn’t know her face.




This didn’t all happen.




i didn’t phone my friend who lived in London—I texted him. It was 5 AM, and a weekday, and I felt guilty waking him up, and I didn’t have any plans if he did respond and we had met.




about a lonely woman attending an all-night Mystery Movie Marathon in London’s Prince Charles Cinema. This much is true. I stayed the whole way, really I did. Some people walked out. This was just before the last film, gremlins 2. But I stayed. The Eastern European lady who oversaw the marathon came out at the end. She congratulated us for making it through the whole marathon, and it was a rare sight to see so many people last till the end, she said. She told everyone to stay for 2 more minutes because there would be a group photo taken of us. This is when I walked out. I used the rear exit.




I did meet a woman in the theater but I didn’t engage much. I was so worried that our knees would touch or our elbows graze. I squirmed and sat with my legs and body tight through the screening after our first conversation in-between movies. I was no longer just someone in the crowd, I was myself, and someone was conscious of me. I hated the last 3 films because I was too aware of myself in the theater watching them.




Some of this is true.




i actually did stop and wait by the Underground entrance. It wasn’t to see anybody. I just thought to myself that this is London and it’s not every day you get to visit. I thought this but I didn’t do anything. Looking out into half empty Chinatown was all I did and it was truly freezing. My palms were in my pockets but they were twice their size. It was 5 AM and I think I was an insomniac at the time. And I left. I went into the station but all trains to Canterbury weren’t coming in for another hour.




What did I do? I don’t remember this. I believe I just waited.

















AUTHOR BIO
AUTHOR BIO
AUTHOR BIO
AUTHOR BIO

Mehrul Bari S. Chowdhury is the editor of Small World City. He is a writer, poet, visual artist, and website designer from Dhaka, Bangladesh. He received his MA in Creative Writing with distinction at the University of Kent in Paris, and has previously worked as the sub-editor for The Daily Star’s “Daily Star Books.”

His works have appeared in Permafrost, Sortes Magazine, Kitaab, and Blood Orange Review, among others. // instagram
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