November 25, the International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women, marks the beginning of 16 Days of Activism against Gender-Based Violence which goes until December 10, Human Rights Day.
Bangladesh has gone through a day of historical proportions, and the people on the streets seem to know this.
What I wish I didn’t know is that when your dear friends whisper the word “psycho” behind your back, you’ll grow up accepting it.
A month ago, as I waited for a friend in Banani, I decided to grab a packet of cigarettes. I’m not good at calculations for loose change and the vendor, old and seemingly disoriented, was having a hard time too.
Once on a particularly smothering hot day, on a CNG ride to work, I was stuck in the most heinous traffic for over two hours. Over the yelling drivers, honking cars, and incessant cursing over why the CNGs were trying to overtake the expensive cars, I was listening to my usual cycle of songs. As coincidence would have it, David Gilmour in his seraphic voice posed the question: “So, so you think you can tell/ Heaven from hell?”
His face was growing warmer, it seemed as though the intangible entity that was stinging his closed eyes was growing stronger.
The verses remind us that a withering, war-torn Earth can still birth new life and hopes of freedom.
November 25, the International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women, marks the beginning of 16 Days of Activism against Gender-Based Violence which goes until December 10, Human Rights Day.
Bangladesh has gone through a day of historical proportions, and the people on the streets seem to know this.
What I wish I didn’t know is that when your dear friends whisper the word “psycho” behind your back, you’ll grow up accepting it.
Words have crashed onto your shores
A month ago, as I waited for a friend in Banani, I decided to grab a packet of cigarettes. I’m not good at calculations for loose change and the vendor, old and seemingly disoriented, was having a hard time too.
Once on a particularly smothering hot day, on a CNG ride to work, I was stuck in the most heinous traffic for over two hours. Over the yelling drivers, honking cars, and incessant cursing over why the CNGs were trying to overtake the expensive cars, I was listening to my usual cycle of songs. As coincidence would have it, David Gilmour in his seraphic voice posed the question: “So, so you think you can tell/ Heaven from hell?”
His face was growing warmer, it seemed as though the intangible entity that was stinging his closed eyes was growing stronger.
The verses remind us that a withering, war-torn Earth can still birth new life and hopes of freedom.
When Coke Studio Bangla released Meghdol’s Bonobibi, their second song of season 2, listeners found themselves torn between loving the song and questioning it. Questioning as to why the song was done under the banner of Coke Studio, a project funded by an American-based multinational corporation; questioning what qualifies Meghdol, a band known for singing about urban life in Dhaka city, to sing about tales originating in the Sundarbans; and why the song didn’t delve deeper into the history and background of the stories they were trying to tell. It has raised a wider question about how music plays a role in storytelling.
“I wonder what she’ll wear tomorrow,” he mumbled as his eyes drooped shut.
