Have we ever stopped to wonder when the ATM machines refill themselves? Or who stocks the shelves of our favourite stores before we walk in the morning?
Recently, I drove to Subal Das Lane in Lalbagh to try the latest breakfast craze that has captivated Dhaka in the metaverse: Siddiqui bhai’s Nihari.
Walk down the lanes of Old Dhaka today and it is hard to imagine that the city once revolved around a single building -- Dhaka Fort. Back in 1610, when Islam Khan, the Mughal subahdar of Bengal, shifted his capital here, the fort was the nerve centre of Mughal power.
As a painter, he was larger than life. Baseer entered art school not out of a passion for the creative field, but he was on a mission, a role he undertook as a sign of political allegiance to the leftist movement.
Before the sun rises over Dhaka’s Korail slum, many mothers set out early for a long day of work, carrying the unspoken worry of who will care for their children while they are away.
There are thousands of people in Dhaka, each living a different life. But a few things are constant for all. Apart from the unavoidable traffic and the signal at Bijoy Sarani, their love-hate relationship with rain unites most of them.
Recent tragedies in Bangladesh have brought to our attention the urgency to recognise the need for mental trauma healing.
Long before Dhaka became a noisy sprawl of rickshaws, traffic, and concrete, it was a quieter, more graceful place. One posing for a German man with a camera and a keen eye for elegance.
Have we ever stopped to wonder when the ATM machines refill themselves? Or who stocks the shelves of our favourite stores before we walk in the morning?
Recently, I drove to Subal Das Lane in Lalbagh to try the latest breakfast craze that has captivated Dhaka in the metaverse: Siddiqui bhai’s Nihari.
Walk down the lanes of Old Dhaka today and it is hard to imagine that the city once revolved around a single building -- Dhaka Fort. Back in 1610, when Islam Khan, the Mughal subahdar of Bengal, shifted his capital here, the fort was the nerve centre of Mughal power.
As a painter, he was larger than life. Baseer entered art school not out of a passion for the creative field, but he was on a mission, a role he undertook as a sign of political allegiance to the leftist movement.
Before the sun rises over Dhaka’s Korail slum, many mothers set out early for a long day of work, carrying the unspoken worry of who will care for their children while they are away.
There are thousands of people in Dhaka, each living a different life. But a few things are constant for all. Apart from the unavoidable traffic and the signal at Bijoy Sarani, their love-hate relationship with rain unites most of them.
Recent tragedies in Bangladesh have brought to our attention the urgency to recognise the need for mental trauma healing.
Long before Dhaka became a noisy sprawl of rickshaws, traffic, and concrete, it was a quieter, more graceful place. One posing for a German man with a camera and a keen eye for elegance.
I have never been to the legendary Beauty Boarding in Shiris Das Lane, Bangla Bazar. I know, it is an unpardonable offense, and I should probably be denied my self-proclaimed title as a Dhaka-know-all.
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.
