Dr Asha Islam Nayeem, a professor in the Department of History at the Dhaka University, has a heart-wrenching story.
Tucked into the narrow confusing lanes of Lalbagh is Rasulbagh Children’s Park -- a rare slice of serenity in a city that often forgets to breathe.
I heard a friend say that no matter where she goes shopping, be it on 5th Avenue in New York, in old Delhi, or even at Chatuchak Weekend Market in Bangkok, nothing beats the pleasure she finds shopping in Dhaka’s shopping districts: Chandni Chawk, Hawker’s, and New Market.
For decades, Bangladesh has been home to a devoted group of people passionate about high-fidelity sound reproduction.
In Bangladesh, winter is more than a season -- it’s a celebration. It’s the time for weddings, marked by steaming plates of biryani, fragrant with ghee and tender, flavourful potatoes.
If one says Madhur Canteen and Bangladesh’s history is inextricably interlinked, will it be an exaggeration?
The canteen was founded in 1921 by Aditya Chandra Dey, Madhuda’s father, who received permission from the university authorities to open a food business on the university grounds when Dhaka University was established.
Scattered across Bangladesh are countless archaeological treasures that reveal its prosperous past. While time has erased some, many remain hidden beneath the earth, awaiting discovery. Among the surviving remnants are ancient fortresses, temples, mosques, monasteries and so on -- testaments to the region’s rich history and cultural legacy.
Dhaka airport finally opens lounges dedicated to migrant workers and their families
Remittances remain a lifeline for Bangladesh’s economy, contributing around 6-7 percent to GDP, according to financial reports.
Imagine a world where everything looks faded. The colours around you do not seem as enchanting as they once appeared; your children no longer ask you to sew that hemline or help with the accounts. Memories fade fast along with your eyesight and you slowly begin to feel useless.
The place has a chequered history. Compared to other areas of the city, Dhanmondi still retains its residential character to some extent, despite being home to commercial enterprises, educational institutes, restaurants, hospitals, diagnostic centres, and rising apartments.
There is a certain drama in being mystified with all things retro and vintage.
At the break of dawn, women of all ages -- daughters, mothers, homemakers -- set out in search for safe drinking water.
Dhaka's fading gaming arcades struggle against modern technology and economic challenges, yet remain nostalgic escapes for many.
Wearing shorts and playing football -- these reasons were enough for some locals to attack under-17 female footballers of Super Queen Football Academy at Tentultala village in Khulna in July last year.
Imagine vast, shimmering water reflecting a clear blue sky. Boats glide across the surface, carrying villagers through a network of rivers and canals teeming with life. Schools of fish, like silver flashes, dart beneath the water.
When the entire country is grappling with mosquito menace, a Bangladeshi entrepreneur and his team have come up with an ingenious solution that promises to be an effective tool in mosquito control.
From a distance, it appears as a forest. But as one gets closer, it becomes evident that it’s in fact a seven-story factory building covered with vines and leaves. After entering the premises, one will see a 30-foot-tall white sculpture of a woman.
For years, gaming in Bangladesh was seen as a waste of time -- often dismissed as a frivolous activity or a distraction from more “serious” pursuits. Traditional societal norms placed little value on gaming, perceiving it as an endeavour devoid of any real-world benefits.
