The world is grieving for Pelé, one of its most gifted sons, who won the universe with his football skills.
In the days leading up to the greatest show on earth, miserably apt was the Bangla saying, "Jare dekhte nari, tar cholon banka."
Over-dependence on technology and partisan umpiring is casting a shadow over cricket
Probably on account of my last two articles on Covid and dengue, someone thought I was a doctor.
The annual meeting of the Nikhil Bangladesh Mosha (mosquito) Samity has been convened.
Mask usage has come down to five percent, my guess, well below the rate of infection.
What could be the psyche behind this ugly practice of stealing the limelight despite having no intellectual, technical, moral or effective input in any of the 23 goals that our girls scored in Kathmandu?
Many of us believe and widely practise the cliché of, “Hopefully, this shall not happen to me”.
The following anecdote I have narrated before, but it merits repetition for sheer context.
As we draw closer to pulling the curtain on 2019, it is an opportune moment for self-analysing ourselves.
My earliest encou-nter with the razzmatazz colour, discounting my childhood chushni (more about that later) was due to my kindergarten schooling at Comilla’s Our Lady of Fatima Convent.
1974. BUET Elections. The position of Mujibbadi Chhatra League was not at all rosy. The major threat was the student wing of Jatiya Samajtantrik Dal (JSD), drawing young people in droves by its patent ‘Scientific Socialism’. Another front was Chhatra Union, popular among cultural activists.
Nowadays while meeting someone after a lapse of a few months, and with a gap in updated information, following the customary exchanges there is hesitation to pop the question, “How is the wife?”
Famed for his Moder Garob, Moder Aasha, a-mori Bangla Bhaasha, poet, educationist and lawyer Atul Prasad is long gone.
I am dazed and dejected, but not down. This chap is such a beyadab. He deserves one big thappar.
The most adorable sight that thy eyes can behold is that of a child in her first saree, her small strides burdened by girdles of fabric (quality immaterial) and her vain efforts to keep her anchol in place. She will carry a heavenly smile garnished by shyness, innocence and pride of being Mommy, at last.
To be a successful criminal (No! I am not opening a school), besides having 10 SIM cards (legally allowed for each operator), an oily body to slip away if caught, a foul mouth, an arsenal of weapons, and liaison with uniformed ostads and informed murubbis, one must
You left a restaurant, content, so much so that you tipped the waiter heavier than your usual. Two days later, a news flash on the TV scroll: “Sona Dana Khana Pina Restora fined Tk 1 lakh for freezing rotten fish and expired chicken.” Nausea overtakes you. To an
