The air in Bangladesh grew quieter on Saturday night. At 10:15 pm, as the last light of dusk surrendered to the hush of twilight, Farida Parveen, the woman whose voice carried the whispers of Lalan’s mystic poetry, the sighs of rural fields, and the tears of a thousand unsung hearts, took her final breath. She was surrounded by silence then, but not alone. Her sons held her hands. Her songs filled the room. Her eldest son, Imam Nimeri Upal, his voice trembling like a plucked esraj string, whispered to Jago News: “Amma passed away today at 10:15 pm.” Those three words “Amma passed away” felt less like news, and more like the closing of a sacred chapter. Farida Parveen had...