Let’s put the spotlight on the city’s odd-jobbers and handymen -- people who take care of our household disasters.
What to do this monsoon, when Dhaka is in a shroud of either oppressive heat or unbearable humidity? Lest we forget the sudden showers, heavy rains, or a light, breezy drizzle? However, the unpredictability of the Dhaka monsoon should not be a killjoy. Instead, fill your weekend calendar with pleasurable activities if you know where the fun is.
Leaving the humid weather under the sweltering sun and entering the atrium full of chatter, noises of elevators and escalators, soft ambient music, and most importantly, the cool air with hints of perfume -- welcome to the Dhaka mall.
I once watched a documentary series featuring abandoned widows of the Hindu sect seeking refuge in Varanasi, India.
Before we delve into the story of the first motor car in Dhaka, it’s worth exploring an earlier question: When did four-wheelers first appear on the city’s roads?
Dhaka still surprises me; can you believe that? Born and brought up in this city, I think I am a true ambassador of the town -- a little eccentric, a tad bit politically volatile, and very angry for no good reason.
The backstreets of Baridhara Diplomatic Zone and Baridhara DOHS, known as Kalachandpur, are an energetic and vibrant neighbourhood that unfortunately suffers from an identity crisis.
Dhaka has its own noise. Along with it, it also has its own rush, distractions and plenty of dust. But if you pause for just a moment, you’ll see that this city also has its quiet pockets! Its little moments of stillness, almost like unsung poetry!
Rushing from one university to another, filling out endless forms, searching for a hostel or a shared mess, and trying to keep up with a city that never hits pause -- all while preparing for the entrance exams that could shape their future.
Nilkhet is not merely a name on Dhaka’s map; it is an emotion. A place steeped in layers of memory, significance, and quiet reverence for the book lovers of this bustling city.
Dhaka is not that big of a city. But there are way too many people, and while the number of buses is not little either, it’s far from enough. The daily bus commutes in Dhaka are tedious but if one is willing, there are plenty of drama and stories to find. Today, we will count the five types of p
Living in Dhaka is an adventure like no other; a chaotic symphony where every moment feels like a test of resilience. The city thrives on contradictions, making survival an art form and endurance a badge of honour.
The road is actually named after a man named Inglis (or Ingles)
As I seated myself in the Halda Valley Tea Lounge, seeing the way the welcome drinks were served left me in awe.
As the CNG-run auto-rickshaw pulled away, I stepped onto the culvert, the cool evening air wrapping around me like a cloak. Just ahead, a pack of stray dogs roamed the street, their loud barking echoing in the quiet night.
Once upon a time in Dhaka, tea drinking was limited to the Kashmiri, British, and Armenian households
I had nothing significant planned for last Friday, and was absent-mindedly saying yes to all sorts of plans my friends were making; completely forgetting an important wedding reception I had to attend that very day.
“It’s a wonderful experience to see the works of two artists from different mediums in the same exhibition -- works that seem to express their inner thoughts in two different ways, yet woven together by a single thread,” these words from a visitor, Nuzhat Jahan, perfectly encapsulates the exhibition Visually Bimurto by Habibur Rahman and Shamsad Rahman.
