Coming soon!

It’s almost ready for pre-release orders. Details to come…


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Sonali is now in paperback!

paperback-frontI said I wouldn’t do it. I almost wish I hadn’t. But I did.

After bringing out Sonali as an E-book and getting some lovely reviews from purchasers, I was plagued by demands to bring it out as a physical paperback. In the end I relented. With my collection of short stories coming out soon as both E-book and paperback, it seemed a good experiment to try it and use Sonali as a ‘dry run’.

So here it is! My recommendation is that if you like photos more than text, get the E-book where you’ll see the photos at better resolution and with the soft hints of colour I’ve added in (hopefully) an artistic style. If you’re more interested in culture or practising your Bengali/Bangla then buy the paperback which is more spaciously laid out and feels very nice to hold in the hands.


If you DO buy a paperback copy and would like to see the E-book version, get in touch with me (message me on my Facebook page and I’ll private message you back to get your email address) and I’ll send you a pdf copy for free!

Whichever you buy, do please leave a review on Amazon. It would be great to see more. I’ll provide major links below.


Amazon US:

Amazon UK:

Amazon Fr:


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Sonali is here (again!)


It has been a steep learning curve but the book I first published in 2014 is now out again in E-book format on all major Amazon sites.

The book has a brand new design suited to phones, kindles and other electronic readers with text and pictures on the same page, unlike the print edition. Furthermore, the text now comes in English and Bangla/Bengali after many people requested this. If you are, or know someone is, going to Bangladesh and is new to the language and culture, Sonali makes an ideal gift with easy-to-digest passages with translation close by. The pictures give an idea of what rural life is like all over Bangladesh.

I hope you those of you interested in the Bangladesh side to my story enjoy the book and, if you do, please leave a review on the Amazon page. If you’re really keen you can follow me as an author on Amazon too. Get in there before the rush 😉

Next on the list is my collection of short stories – some set in Bangladesh – all being well, available early 2017!

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Theatre Review: Maya’s Honeymoons by Jesmin Chowdhury

The full version of this review can be seen as published in Bangladesh newspaper New Age (click here) or on my website with additional photos (click here)

Theatre Review: Maya’s Honeymoons – Sunday 20th November, Brady Arts Centre, London

By Ken Powell

Jesmin Chowdhury and Al-Khurshid Himu play central roles (Photo: Murad Chowdhury)

Jesmin Chowdhury and Al-Khurshid Himu play central roles (Photo: Murad Chowdhury)

It is no easy ask to present a play tackling a subject a whole community prefers to remain silent about. In the case of ADDA’s latest production, ‘Maya’s Honeymoons’, the subject is one most communities would rather not talk about; and of course it’s vital that they do.

The writer, Jesmin Chowdhury, has written this story based on years of experience having worked with many women who have suffered abuse of one form or another. She wanted to present not just the reality of domestic violence (DV) but also a message of hope to all women who are living the reality on a daily basis. Jesmin Chowdhury plays the title role allowing her to fully express the depth of emotion she wanted to communicate and the play follows the story of Maya, a Bangladeshi woman married to a British Bangladeshi. He turns from sweet and loving, to controlling, to eventually a violent man who drinks and gambles his way through the years as he beats his wife regularly. The ‘honeymoons’ refer to the cycles of violence and seeming repentance as Maya allows herself to believe her husband truly loves her and so becomes a ‘willing victim’ perpetuating the abuse.

‘Maya’s Honeymoons’ pulls no punches. From the beginning we are presented with a series of fast-moving tableaus representing Maya’s journey from blissful marriage to receiving beatings under the hands of her husband Arman (played by Al-Khurshid Himu). Once the play starts formally Maya accosts the audience verbally so violently – “why won’t you say anything?” she shouts before sneering with a “no, you never say anything, do you?” – that I almost felt I had to say something and apologise for my own guilt. It is a powerful way to begin and left me stunned almost as if I had been violated myself.

Equally as powerful…(continued here)

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When those goals are met, what then?


“There is one thing that we all must do. If we do everything else but that one thing, we will be lost. And if we do nothing else but that one thing, we will have lived a glorious life.”


In my life, having been an extrovert for most of it, I’ve been privileged to meet and befriend literally thousands of people. In some cases only passing – a few months or years at most. In others, friendships which span many years or even decades.

In that time I’ve listened to hundreds upon hundreds of life stories. The slightly distressing thing is that most of them have been, to some extent or another, sad. Some have been downright horrific.

This has been okay for me because my own life story – which still remains to be told in full – is also pretty horrific. Not just my childhood (which was bad enough) but what I’ve gone through over the last ten years. I made a conscious decision to do two things way back in Easter 1986 (yes, as specific as that – long story and not for these pages, or at least not yet). They were:

  • To regain my childhood which was torn from me and keep it for the rest of my life, encouraging others to find and keep their inner child too;


  • To be there for anyone who needed a friend, someone to listen to them when they just needed someone who would understand and not judge. 

In these two ways I hoped to make this world just a little bit better, nicer and more loving than it was before I came into it.

And that has been it. My sole ambitions in life. I have never sought money, fame, luxuries even though I would be perfectly fine with any. I haven’t longed for adulation, respect or to be desired. If anything, I just want people to leave me alone in the sense of not finding fault or issue with me. Alas, that remains a pipe dream; in my experience sometimes there’s just one thing that people can’t stand and that’s someone who is happy and content in life with no need to bring a person down or bitch about them – they just want to ‘wipe that smug little grin’ off your face…

But my focus on this essay is that which Rumi talks of in the quote above. Almost everyone I’ve talked to deeply about their lives have been seeking…something. Maybe just inner peace, or a love life, or a purpose for being. Some have wanted to be married and have kids, others that career and respect they always felt was missing. A few want fortune and fame (not many, I’m glad to say) and others live for their children or grandchildren and that is the focus of their world. Some want their marriages to be better, others want to feel worthwhile. Most of these longings I’ve felt myself at some stage in my life so I can sympathise.

Right now I can only think of one person I’ve met in my entire life who has been entirely content in their own life and not been reaching out and longing for more. People always want something else and this is not necessarily a bad thing. Indeed, many of the greatest and most important inventions and developments have come out of someone feeling there was more that could be done. I wish I’d known more genuinely happy people but on the other hand I’ve learned that the world is a pretty mean place and those that pretend it isn’t are guilty of allowing suffering to go on by their inaction. I’d rather do at least something to try and halt, reverse or undo the damage.

But here’s the question which is increasingly unsettling me: what happens when you’ve achieved Rumi’s vision but you’ve still got a long life ahead?

For me it’s quite serious. I’ve done what I’ve set out to do in life – all of it really, certain of the stuff which matters.

My two driving ambitions mentioned above I fulfilled in being a teacher for 24 years – most of it in the classroom though my first and latter years have been with private teaching. It was a real pleasure and joy to see so many go through my classes and come out as adults. Even the last and youngest I taught in the UK are now in their twenties. It is frightening to think that some of my very first students are well into their thirties now. They are married, have kids, some are teachers themselves now – what a wonderful legacy! Many have forgotten me – that’s as it should be – but I’ve been humbled by how many still refer to me as a great influence in their lives and countless ones keep me as their friend many, many years after I last saw them as teacher and student. I don’t think anyone would say “I would not be here if it wasn’t for you” and nor did I ever crave such dependence from another, but I know that I have made lives better and that was really all I ever wanted to do.

As for personal ambitions? Well I always knew I needed to be married – I like sex too much if I can be blunt! I also knew I needed to be a father – I like having people around to share my ‘inner child’ and most adults just don’t get it to be honest. I wanted to succeed as a musician – I’ve done that. I wanted to be a successful classroom teacher – done that too. I moved into a writing career, something I had always dreamed of, and have been making a success of that for many years now. Indeed, I don’t think it likely I’ll do any other job now as my main work, though what kind of writing I do will no doubt adapt and evolve over time.  I also had the dream of learning to play the sitar since studying Indian music at university long ago. I’m not especially good at it, but I ticked that one off while living in Bangladesh.

So what’s left?

I’m 45 and, God willing, I could have another 45 years to go. Bar accident or medical calamity I should at least see out another 30. What to do? It’s not that I’ve stopped – I’m still teaching, writing, playing, enjoying life, listening to others and trying to be as good a friend as I can – but I see nothing on the horizon which grabs me. I’ve served my purpose. My own two kids are all but grown up and it will be a while (I hope!) before grandchildren make an appearance, so what do I do other than what I’m already doing?

Don’t get me wrong – I’m not complaining. I love that I could die tomorrow (perhaps run over by that bus we Brits are always worried will get us the next day?) and be fulfilled. There’ll be no ‘Rosebud’ moment for me on my deathbed. I don’t crave fame or recognition with my books and writings (nice though that would be, of course). I’m content with all I’ve done and all I am doing. The unwritten books can remain unwritten if needs be. the written ones can remain unpublished. The published can remain unloved. They are just words.

But I can’t help but think I’m just marking time. Waiting for the last remaining hairs to turn white and then fall out; for more of the body to start complaining and slowly give up; for the eyesight to get worse and the teeth to crumble. I’ll do it happily I guess but I do wonder if half the fun in life was that longing to fulfil a purpose not yet achieved and that Rumi, in fact, was wrong.

A photo by Will van Wingerden.


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