In the usual run-of-the-mill Bangladeshi cinema, where narratives often orbit around male protagonists and their odysseys, Dibarah Mahboob's “Kraati” emerges as a pleasant anomaly—a short film centred around two young women, an upper-middle-class daughter and her resilient househelp. Set against the backdrop of the July Monsoon Revolution of 2024, “Kraati” delves into their intertwined lives and shared struggles for autonomy and respect, in a society run very much within the patriarchal framework. Drawing from her anthropological background and personal experiences, Mahboob crafts a narrative that is both intimate and universally resonant. While “Kraati” does not explicitly reference the movement, its spirit pulses through the film’s core. With an air of revolution already in the...
Moitree Jatra was not a gathering of any political banner or one social cause.
In a quiet neighbourhood of a once lush green residential area of Dhanmondi, I grew up in a three-storied house that dates back to the year 1957, listening wide-eyed to stories of a man deeply involved in Bangladesh’s struggle for sovereignty and democracy.
Despite the pardon, the entire incident underscores the crucial need for stronger diplomatic ties and improved migrant labour rights.
With great wealth, should there not be great scrutiny and accountability?
Puzzling positive developments in our economic indicators, which hardly delineate the real socioeconomic conditions of the people in Bangladesh, are not new phenomena.
On a symbolic visit to Kigali, Rwanda this year, French President Emmanuel Macron recognised France’s extensive role in the 1994 Rwandan genocide, asking for the “gift of forgiveness” from those who survived the atrocities—without, however, putting forth an official apology.
On June 6, Youth Policy Forum’s ambitious series on budget dialogue culminated in its much-anticipated final event, “Youth meets Leaders.” Standing true to the name, six distinguished experts of political and non-political backgrounds gathered to analyse the policy proposals presented by teams of young specialists from YPF.
Remember that cruel, old joke about the bear and the two men—the one where upon being attacked, one of them, panicky, starts hurrying with the intention of outrunning the grizzly carnivore, while the other, appearing more relaxed, says to the other, “I don’t have to outrun the bear, just you”?
With the Dhaka City Corporation election ready to roll out next month, the capital is brimming with a palpable air of electoral mood.
I sometimes think of Dhaka as an ancient twisted folk tale—one with a mystical, rusty lamp with a faux genie.
It is the eve of Eid-ul-Azha. A little girl goes to a neighbour’s house to apply mehendi on her hands. A skip in her step.
Being a millennial, finding the time and desire to indulge in the act of “simply doing nothing” is a grinding process. The Dutch have even coined a term for this luxury: “Niksen”, which, in plain English, translates to “enjoying idleness” and which, in plain reality, is an almost impossible task for Gen Y.
In George Orwell’s dystopian novel 1984, the fictional omniscient entity “Big Brother” seemed like an absurd possibility even a decade back. For an all-knowing being to exist in a society that had access to a constant flow of information was not common in everyday narratives of the time.
Childhood recollections eventually start resembling the bright, vivid pages of a favourite storybook. We turn those pages someday,
“Boys will be boys.” This carefully constructed sentence consists of a mere collection of words. It dominates our dialogues, reflecting the mindset that governs our society, our homes and the misogynistic atmosphere that we breathe.
The internet is an eccentric place. It can applaud a particular individual one sunny morning and rebuke another on the next, and both scenarios can get pretty obsessive to a certain extent. These days, it has decided to get a new boyfriend and the netizens are not only in agreement
