How people in Dhaka enjoy rain

There's something about rain in Dhaka. It doesn't come politely. It arrives in sheets, in sideways gusts, soaking your bag, your back, and your plans. But once you let go of the instinct to rush for shelter, there's a certain honesty to it -- the kind that peels off layers. You notice the city differently when it's wet and slow. You notice yourself.

Most of us don't look for perfect spots to enjoy the rain, we just find ourselves in them. And yet, when asked, people had places. Some very specific, others more like moods. A few were open and sprawling. Others were tucked away, behind staircases, on quiet rooftops, or through narrow alleys no one else cares to find.

Lakes and parks

Ramna, Suhrawardy Udyan, Justice Shahabuddin Ahmed Park -- these aren't secret spots, but they carry a certain silence when it rains. The kind of silence that even Dhaka respects. The trees get heavy. The benches stay wet long after the clouds leave.

"As an introvert, I like places with fewer people," Yasir, a student, shared. "In the storm, the rain in front of the glass tower at Suhrawardy Udyan, mixed with the light and wind, creates a dreamy surreal scene."

 "One of my favourite spots is from the deck of Baridhara Lake," said Tasmiah, an architect. "The spot is secluded by tall trees, almost invisible from the roads and apartment windows. And the view? Heavenly. Sitting on the wooden seat of the deck—I plug in my earphones, watch the raindrops falling on the lake as the city blurs into the background!"

Muddy playgrounds

Of course, not everyone wants silence. Some go looking for a mess. Starting from a dedicated playground to a random empty space in a park, you'll find boys chasing the rain as if it owes them something.

Kanon, a football enthusiast, said during his admission days, when nothing felt good, playing football in the rain at Sher-e-Bangla Nagar Park was the only thing that made him feel alive. "I was a loser in exams, but a hero on the field. I can still score six-seven goals even in rain. You can't really know joy in this city until you've kicked a muddy football barefoot."

Campus rain hits different

Rain changes campuses too. It softens everything. Arguments pause. Crushes walk a little closer. Umbrellas become shared territories. Mishkat, a student at Dhaka University, put it simply: "As a woman, I feel most relaxed and free when I get wet in my own hall. I enjoy the rain in the open courtyard of Sufia Kamal Hall."

Chaity, another student, recalled, "TSC in the rain, swimming pool in the rain, shingara from Chhayanaut's canteen during rainy evenings — it was all fun. I loved watching the rain from the Chhayanaut balcony."

Rooftops and other escapes

Then there are the personal spots. The ones we don't post about. Rooftops, stairwells, tea stalls under corrugated tin roofs and many more.

Niloy, an engineer, prefers the indoors, but not entirely. "I find rainy days oddly comforting, that Dhaka usually doesn't offer. On days like these, I like going to music events and art exhibitions, or just enjoying some warm food and a cup of tea."

"For me it's about the mental state I'm in," said Rafid. "Sometimes, I like to just sit at a random tea stall during rain and watch the shift -- how everything suddenly looks different. There's movement, but also stillness. The city sort of repositions itself."

Some people don't want to share their spots. And that's fair. Rain can be deeply private. It reminds people of lovers they haven't spoken to in years, or friends they don't call anymore. It asks you to remember things, even when you don't want to.