KNOT SO TRUE
Managing Director, Mohammadi Group
Truth recently decided to die an inglorious death as it got tired of watching rulers leading their nations with lies.
How do the lives of the underserved women change and who can potentially come forward and become a part of their story?
The apparent return to basics, the turn to healthier living, the leap to soliloquys have turned out to be beneficial. At least in theory, we all agree that the world needed a correction.
It was 2013 that brought about a massive change in the local garment industry. Rana Plaza had collapsed and with around 1,132 lives lost in the incident, the entire nation suffered a sense of collective grief.
We are living in a time of self-doubt, of suspicion, of negation, and of regret.
When the sky isn’t looking clear anymore, to say you are watching the clouds go by with the hope of a better day is being cautiously optimistic.
I took a break from writing columns ever since I took over as the President of the Bangladesh Manufacturers and Exporters Association.
Over 8,000 km away, everything looks different. The skies, the sunrise, the people and of course, trade. In Paris, the three-day Organisation of Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD) Forum on Due Diligence in the Garment and Footwear Sector,
I always need a clean sheet to write on. I always prefer the backside of a calendar month to detail projects.
Back from the UNGA. In the last 5 months and 10 days that I have been serving as president of Bangladesh Garment Manufacturers and Exporters Association, my brain has been on an overdrive.
Your columnist has just completed a little over a month of being a “female” leader of an exporters’ association.
It's an era of innovation. It's an era of efficiency. In one part of the world, they are making “smart” jackets, which are creating a microclimate for the wearers, by using carbon fibre heating pads, and are also using Amazon's smart assistant Alexa to even pre-heat the jacket before the consumers are putting them on.
A friend of mine calls me a “wo-man”. The reason why he hyphenates and breaks the word is a surprise. I asked him why he does so and he explained.
Close to midnight, it felt surreal. Being in the Samsun Airport in Turkey, only 1.5 flying hours away from Istanbul, made me feel as if I were in a new world. It wasn't a world of magical surprise or rapid development, but one thing was for sure: it was a land that told and sold stories well.
I laugh when the western media goes on a rant about us, the eastern democracy, the eastern economy and the eastern human rights condition.
Ever since 1996, your columnist has been in business. She runs a company that has multiple businesses which once grew from one core business of exporting readymade garments years ago.
Half an hour away from home, the air smells the same; the people seem similar, but there's definitely a lack of ostentation. One does not drive through streets of Kolkata in the latest cars; the roads are still swamped with yellow taxis and a touch of Uber and Ola has changed the scene only a bit.
Education indeed. Getting to Phnom Penh took me to yet another learning curve. Not being able to fly out of Dhaka for almost close to 18 hours is a story to share, but getting de-planed and watching passengers reacting to the situation is another narrative altogether.
Every time a tragedy makes an unannounced entry, our lives turn into a pile of grieving memories. Once struck by loss, one moves on to a totally different plane where laughter is almost immediately followed by a fear of an unknown tomorrow.
The wars that we wage within and beyond our own borders kill us. Yet, we seem to be perpetually living in a state of war where hate speeches flood the internet, trade wars cause the economy to slow down, borders cause tension and perception becomes the truth.
When Accord and Alliance came to town, the brands and retailers had offered assurance of business continuity and were paying for the audits and assessments.
Your columnist was in a private conversation with her daughter stressing on the need of a new oven.
In a world where Martin Luther King was declared as “the most dangerous hero” by the FBI two days after his “I Have a Dream” speech, in a world where Muslims are often viewed as perpetually guilty, in a world where journalists are jailed for doing their job, in a world where the US government can spy on journalists using...
The high-speed train from Hong Kong to Mainland began four days ago. It will now only take 50 minutes to reach Guangzhou from Hong Kong.
In spite of Trump calling Bob Woodward, the author of the book Fear, a liar; in spite of a world where winners have boos raining on them instead of ovation, like in the case of Naomi Osaka...
Very often, we cherry pick what we call discrimination or bias and launch movements. Very often, we voice our views and receive backlashes. Thus, many of us stay on the fence, not choose sides and maintain our general acceptable levels of civic sanity. That is what we do.
Many moons ago, the world believed in philosophy, religion and politics. Not wholly true anymore. We see acute reversals on a regular basis. We have more heroes falling from grace every day—more than ever before.
Children in blue and white uniforms came marching straight towards our cars. Watching them was like watching a sea of protest, meant to sweep us off our shores of comfort.
Let's just think about what Donald Trump recently did. He wooed Putin and tried to stitch the US and Russia together without knowing the difference between Great Britain, England and the United Kingdom.
Humanity is supposed to have progressed. A Harvard University professor, Steven Pinker, argues in favour of it in his new book Enlightenment Now: The Case for Reason, Science, Humanism and Progress. On maximum standards of well-being, we are apparently faring way better than we did ever before.
Most of us want to live forever. Peter Thiel, the billionaire co-founder of PayPal, hopes to live to be 120. Dmitry Itskov, the Russian internet billionaire, aspires to live to 10,000. Larry Ellison, co-founder of Oracle, finds the end of life “incomprehensible,” while Sergey Brin, co-founder of Google, hopes to “cure” it.
I loved Morgan Freeman. Somehow, that beard and that skin always used to give off a sincere feel. Having a penchant for films that
I spent eight hours on the road, trying to go to and return from Banglabazar in Gazipur. A few months back, Bashir, our ever-smart driver, took 40 minutes to reach Banglabazar. Yesterday he took 3.5 hours to reach the place, and another four hours to return. For both the trips, he deserves to be placed in the Guinness book of records.
Anniversaries are scary. They are reminders. While one celebrates life and bonds on anniversaries, in no time one also becomes a chip of a mosaic laced with memory.
In a discussion of inclusive growth two days ago, someone across the table brought up the topic relating to new employers coming into the F-commerce (Facebook commerce) and asked if they would be subjected to labour standards as well.
Winds of change have hit us. In a recent trip to the West, I missed Spring. A bitter cold wave was then sweeping all across Europe. Even Madrid had snow-capped mountains. It seemed as if the weather was all set for a change. Every flight that I took, in and out of Europe, was more turbulent with unexpected cold air hitting aircrafts with intolerable cruelty.
Your realities are being separated today. In social media, you have the option of being offered in the newsfeed over public news. What you read and what you write are on two different planes. You read what is being fed and you write about who you are. The focus has shifted from the public to you. You can now broadcast your own self. You can write your own opinion editorial, and also choose your readers.
Being a woman meant landing in Tokyo at 6:30 in the morning, catching up with a dear friend over a coffee in her car while being picked up from the airport, ending up at the Hotel at 9:00, only to run straight to the restroom to change and hurry out with luggage, not even having time to check in, and ultimately carrying the same bag to the conference, without being able to leave it with the concierge in the absence of a room number.
The response of your columnist to the question “How are you?” usually ranged from “Dhuro” back in the teen years to more currently “Could be better”/“Couldn't be better”/“Couldn't have asked for more.”
I have an advisory council at home, which has unilaterally elected my son as the president, my daughter as the VP, my daughter-in-law as the general secretary, and my eldest daughter who lives abroad as my remote assistant.
My husband's death was one of impeccable timing. With the many programmes that he anchored, he knew how to spot climax, maximise on love and then suddenly one fine morning, he would just decide to end the season. That is how Annisul Huq decided on his last bow and left the audience in awe.
Shirin has been with us for 12 years, Mahmuda for nine, Rakib for six. The number of workers who have worked for us in one particular factory for over 10 years is massive. Most live in Khilkhet, where we have one of our factories.
As my husband is strapped to his own world, disconnected from workplace clatter, the fresh cha, the noise, the arguments, the stress, the pride, the remorse, the sense of failure and momentary ease, I find myself wondering whether life is a worthy price to pay for passion. To me, the answer is “yes”.
A critical examination of our trade balance with Japan brings in a few interesting statistics. While the Japanese import of apparel had shrunk to JPY 2,910 billion in 2016, Bangladesh remained amongst the top four exporting countries.
These days, one has to keep all the “right” answers ready for questions one has no answers to.
Truth recently decided to die an inglorious death as it got tired of watching rulers leading their nations with lies.
How do the lives of the underserved women change and who can potentially come forward and become a part of their story?
The apparent return to basics, the turn to healthier living, the leap to soliloquys have turned out to be beneficial. At least in theory, we all agree that the world needed a correction.
It was 2013 that brought about a massive change in the local garment industry. Rana Plaza had collapsed and with around 1,132 lives lost in the incident, the entire nation suffered a sense of collective grief.
We are living in a time of self-doubt, of suspicion, of negation, and of regret.
When the sky isn’t looking clear anymore, to say you are watching the clouds go by with the hope of a better day is being cautiously optimistic.
I took a break from writing columns ever since I took over as the President of the Bangladesh Manufacturers and Exporters Association.
Over 8,000 km away, everything looks different. The skies, the sunrise, the people and of course, trade. In Paris, the three-day Organisation of Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD) Forum on Due Diligence in the Garment and Footwear Sector,
I always need a clean sheet to write on. I always prefer the backside of a calendar month to detail projects.
Back from the UNGA. In the last 5 months and 10 days that I have been serving as president of Bangladesh Garment Manufacturers and Exporters Association, my brain has been on an overdrive.