Shamsad Mortuza
BLOWIN' IN THE WIND
Dr Shamsad Mortuza is a professor of English at Dhaka University, and former pro-vice-chancellor of the University of Liberal Arts Bangladesh (ULAB).
BLOWIN' IN THE WIND
Dr Shamsad Mortuza is a professor of English at Dhaka University, and former pro-vice-chancellor of the University of Liberal Arts Bangladesh (ULAB).
Shakib has been at the heart of our national pride. He also has been someone who has hurt our feelings.
Violence against doctors is an issue that is neither unique to our country nor recent.
An institutionalised mass wedding will replace one form of social regulation with another.
The Washington Post recently speculated that Dr Yunus’s soft power may have indirectly influenced the UAE's decision to grant clemency.
How do you process the nationwide humiliation of teachers?
The students are once again at the forefront by reaching out to the victims of the flood that has inundated the country’s eastern region.
While talking to our students, it was obvious that many of them are experiencing severe stress.
Identity and ideology politics also played an essential role in brewing the Bangla Bashanta.
It is as refreshing as watching flowers of urban forestry in bloom or the roadside plants glisten after a bout of rain.
In September 2001, soon after the attack on the Twin Towers, the Bangladesh government issued a public announcement to contact the America & Pacific wing of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs for the whereabouts of Bangladeshi residents.
Two news reports caught my attention on Friday: one was about a wild elephant being electrocuted, and the other was about the dwindling international funds for the Rohingya refugees.
I don’t remember the last time I went to Chattogram. My knowledge of the port city can be summed up by the memorable quote from the epic fantasy series, Game of Thrones, where the main protagonist is told: “You know nothing, Jon Snow.”
I was watching a movie on Netflix. Suddenly, the voice assistant of the laptop, Siri, got activated and said, “Siri aha?”.
There was something ominous about the day in which Bangabandhu was laid to rest in his native village of Tungipara when, according to the village elders, the “skies were knowingly weeping tears” (Syed Badrul Ahsan, From Rebel to Founding Father, p. xv).
We are all glued to the mega-spectacle involving the flickering of the dropped or lost tails of some lizards who have tactically dissociated from a disposable part of their bodies to protect themselves from their attackers.
While staying with a host family in Pennsylvania during a weekend trip in the late 1990s, I found a statement knifed in the bed’s headboard: “Here a battle was won by the Man of the house [date]”.
There is a rush hour traffic out there. People after spending a short Eid escapade are frantically returning to the capital as the lockdown tolls the knell of a parting holiday.
Last week, all eyes were fixed on Neymar’s ripped shorts, Badhon’s jewelled blouse or English rogue fans’ red-crosses, when something terrible happened: