An amusing incident unfolded on March 30 at Farhana Rajib’s home in Minneapolis, US. Her mother-in-law Shawkat Ara Begum received a note from her 12-year-old granddaughter Ella Rajib. Handwritten in Bangla, the note read: “Dida darun boka” (Grandma is very silly).
Travelling was my hobby before I emigrated to Canada. During my trips both within and outside Bangladesh, I always tried to taste local and regional food to appreciate the culture of the place I visited.
Mid-twentieth century Pabna: Upon her aunt's insistence, a frightened little girl hesitantly stands in front of the one-eyed box covered in black cloth. The object looks like a square-headed monster on a tripod. Who would have imagined then that the little girl would one day capture the world with this very object? “I never thought that this camera will one day become my life partner,” chuckles Sayeeda Khanam, Bangladesh's first woman photojournalist.
On March 25, The New York Times ran a story about Americans stepping up to face the coronavirus pandemic by sewing masks for their healthcare providers as well as the general public.
Still bearing the trauma of her last dialysis, Marjia Rabbani Shoshi was speaking with a smile until the subject of the Organ Transplantation Act 1999 (amended in 2018) came up.
Women have always been a common subject in visual art, but not so much in the role of an artist. For centuries, their thoughts and expressions remained hidden from public view and crushed under the weight of patriarchy.
“…Then after dark, a tentative ‘Joy Bangla’ in the back streets. Older men came out and persuaded the lads back into their homes; ‘there is still a curfew’. Then a more determined ‘Joy Bangla’. The Mukti Bahini had taken over the streets.
Fahmida, who has been undergoing dialysis for the last two years, now desperately needs a second kidney transplant. Her mother Fatema Zohra had donated her a kidney in 2015, but it got damaged within a year.
An amusing incident unfolded on March 30 at Farhana Rajib’s home in Minneapolis, US. Her mother-in-law Shawkat Ara Begum received a note from her 12-year-old granddaughter Ella Rajib. Handwritten in Bangla, the note read: “Dida darun boka” (Grandma is very silly).
Travelling was my hobby before I emigrated to Canada. During my trips both within and outside Bangladesh, I always tried to taste local and regional food to appreciate the culture of the place I visited.
Mid-twentieth century Pabna: Upon her aunt's insistence, a frightened little girl hesitantly stands in front of the one-eyed box covered in black cloth. The object looks like a square-headed monster on a tripod. Who would have imagined then that the little girl would one day capture the world with this very object? “I never thought that this camera will one day become my life partner,” chuckles Sayeeda Khanam, Bangladesh's first woman photojournalist.
On March 25, The New York Times ran a story about Americans stepping up to face the coronavirus pandemic by sewing masks for their healthcare providers as well as the general public.
Still bearing the trauma of her last dialysis, Marjia Rabbani Shoshi was speaking with a smile until the subject of the Organ Transplantation Act 1999 (amended in 2018) came up.
Women have always been a common subject in visual art, but not so much in the role of an artist. For centuries, their thoughts and expressions remained hidden from public view and crushed under the weight of patriarchy.
“…Then after dark, a tentative ‘Joy Bangla’ in the back streets. Older men came out and persuaded the lads back into their homes; ‘there is still a curfew’. Then a more determined ‘Joy Bangla’. The Mukti Bahini had taken over the streets.
Fahmida, who has been undergoing dialysis for the last two years, now desperately needs a second kidney transplant. Her mother Fatema Zohra had donated her a kidney in 2015, but it got damaged within a year.
An Amnesty International poster with the sketch of a young woman appears on the screen when googled for #myunseensister. The question “Kalpana Khudu?” (Where is Kalpana?) glares beside the pictures.
When Farida Akhter, 65, first took up the responsibility of accompanying her granddaughter between home and school, she had no idea of the things she would gain from this otherwise tiring, five-days-a-week journey between Dhanmondi and Bailey Road.