Who is crazy enough to go window shopping at this time of the year? I mean during the month of Ramadan, and that too in a cosmopolitan like Dhaka.
Iris Apfel was one of my favourite celebrities. Apfel was an American textile expert and interior designer by profession.
Dr Asha Islam Nayeem, a professor in the Department of History at the Dhaka University, has a heart-wrenching story.
I heard a friend say that no matter where she goes shopping, be it on 5th Avenue in New York, in old Delhi, or even at Chatuchak Weekend Market in Bangkok, nothing beats the pleasure she finds shopping in Dhaka’s shopping districts: Chandni Chawk, Hawker’s, and New Market.
The history of Dhaka is as fluid and majestic as the rivers that surround it. Over the centuries, the city’s course has shifted, evolving with each new civilisation that passed through, leaving behind traces of their cultures in its soil.
It all began with a surprise addition to lunch -- long bean mash.
Prejudice, misogyny and hatred seems to increase in the streets of Dhaka.
Bangladesh’s booming ceramic industry is as thriving as our readymade garment (RMG) sector, which I say from my many shopping exploits.
Surrounded by tall coconut and betel nut trees, picturesque ponds, and lagoons -- the green countryside makes Barishal a great city for local tourism.
There is a certain drama in being mystified with all things retro and vintage.
In life to give your 100 percent to any one of your relationships you have to lose more than what you gave to that person.
I wonder what it is in a cup of tea that makes it so invigorating. The obvious answer would be the stimulant, caffeine, or the particular flavour of the leaves seeping into the hot water and the aroma that takes over your senses.
The first time I fell in love with plants was when I saw my mother’s glossy green pothos arranged in old porcelain bowls that were slightly chipped off.
A daughter’s identity is not defined by who she is fundamentally or characteristically, but who she should become to thrive in a man’s world.
If listened carefully, amid the maddening hustle and bustle, cacophony of sounds, one might find a strange harmony in the chaos -- a thing that links this place to a bygone era.
Wooden dolls painted in a crimson-red or saffron-yellow sari with a black hair bun are a traditional craft of Bangladesh and an integral part of every rural fair.
Here's to losing oneself in the sensuous sorcery of the pure, deshi taant saree and claiming what is truly ours.
Perhaps, there is a hidden farmer in all of us. Although suppressed under the urban rat race, many secret gardeners have decided they will create a garden, however small, within the confines of their buildings.
