The first week of January passed quickly, as we sorted through pictures of Dhaka submitted for our My Dhaka Lens competition.

For those who are unaware, we have been running a photography contest during the last weeks of December. We wanted our contestants to focus on Dhaka's appeal -- meaning what they think is the true essence of Dhaka; not categorising, just Dhaka as a theme projected by a singular photo, a photo documentary, drone shot, heritage, street photography, etc.

The response was overwhelming! So much so, that shortlisting the entries has become a challenge. We were supposed to select 100 good entries, and trust me, just going through three days' worth of content, we selected 308 shots! It was that brilliant a contest.

I will not get into the formalities of the contest; instead, I will just talk about how this sorting in progress gave me a new perspective on Dhaka.

Truly, it is a magical place, where even a dumpster invokes hope. The landscape is littered with garbage and trash in an unproportioned way, and amid this filth, sleeps two young souls not more than five or six years old. A big bag full of their treasure, plastic trash held tightly in their fist, the tired kids drop off to sleep, working relentlessly to earn a few takas for a rice meal.

Photo: Star

I found pictures of adolescents like this pop up quite frequently, either frolicking in the rain, posing a thumbs up for the camera, or working in garages or metal factories. Even though the deep underlying explanation of these street children working will be filled with human rights, activism, and other illegal actions, I just saw their resilience.

I am not feeding them, clothing them, or sheltering them, neither am I helping educate them; these angels are living life the hard way, fending for themselves in whatever manner they can.

If Dhaka is under the spell of Maleficent, the dark witch, then they are Dhaka's spirits and fireflies, lighting the way in the dark. It is said that the Latin root of the word fairy is fay, which means fate. As irony would have it, the street children of Dhaka are our magical children of the lesser gods, with supernatural qualities to endure hardship and live through it.

Yes, I feel heartbroken seeing their state of living, and yes, I have done nothing to contribute to their wellbeing, but at the same time, I salute their fight for survival to keep Dhaka ticking.

Besides these disheartening shots, pointing towards thousands of shortcomings of the state, the pictures of old beggars and the toiling mass showed that when you actually want to portray Dhaka, it is never the posh, upscale Dhaka. It always means the people on the street, at ground zero, where the true colours of fast change and intense activities are revealed.

Green parks, flowers, festivals, events, street food, and shopping malls somehow entail the ritzy Dhaka; at least, this is the idea I got while sorting the entries of My Dhaka Lens. I am eager to see how the contest shapes up.

In the meantime, the street children of Dhaka, famously named by our artist Rafiqun Nabi, as Tokais, are Dhaka's superheroes, their smiling faces and happy selves gives me the courage to go through another day.