Now that we have stepped into a new year, it may be time to take a brief pause from our hectic schedule.
Today, after a period of hiatus, I have once again taken up my pen (metaphorically) to remember and celebrate a hero—a woman of courage and integrity who changed the world, not with fire and fury but with her soft touch.
It has only been a month of isolation, yet it feels like “One hundred years of solitude”.
As my daughter and I drove to the polling booth last week to vote at the Democratic Primaries in the United States, I asked: “So,
Over the past three months, I have lost many nights of sleep, abandoned my favourite political TV programmes, and ignored household chores.
I am sitting at my desk, with a hot cup of tea, peering out at the foggy winter morning enveloping the placid Gulshan Lake.
Forty-eight years have elapsed since we overthrew the yoke of exploitation and oppression and gained our Independence, through blood, sweat, and tears.
Common sense tells us that life’s experiences should help us acquire a degree of certainty about most issues. However, I seem to be the exception to this conventional wisdom.
Now that we have stepped into a new year, it may be time to take a brief pause from our hectic schedule.
Today, after a period of hiatus, I have once again taken up my pen (metaphorically) to remember and celebrate a hero—a woman of courage and integrity who changed the world, not with fire and fury but with her soft touch.
It has only been a month of isolation, yet it feels like “One hundred years of solitude”.
As my daughter and I drove to the polling booth last week to vote at the Democratic Primaries in the United States, I asked: “So,
Over the past three months, I have lost many nights of sleep, abandoned my favourite political TV programmes, and ignored household chores.
I am sitting at my desk, with a hot cup of tea, peering out at the foggy winter morning enveloping the placid Gulshan Lake.
Forty-eight years have elapsed since we overthrew the yoke of exploitation and oppression and gained our Independence, through blood, sweat, and tears.
Common sense tells us that life’s experiences should help us acquire a degree of certainty about most issues. However, I seem to be the exception to this conventional wisdom.
I often wonder about the psyche and motivation of people who choose to resist unfairness, inequity and tyranny at a great personal cost. And I don’t mean luminaries like Mahatma Gandhi, Nelson Mandela, and Martin Luther King Jr., but the unsung heroes who feel it their bounden duty to act in the public interest and ensure that future generations benefit from their selfless acts of moral valour.
In the midst of all the political chaos and confusion reigning in our world today, we are perhaps overlooking an important issue—the basic fibre of our social structure is going through a tectonic shift. One would have thought that, over time, class barriers would be