Some hidden sanctuaries in Dhaka never leave you the same. They make you feel as though you belong, where even strangers feel like home -- all connected through the shared wavelength of music.

Fridays in Old Dhaka begin with a distinctive rhythm, building toward Juma prayer. During Juma, the atmosphere becomes layered: sacred inside, restless outside.

The rains return, and with them, a celebration of rhythm and resilience. Arthy Ahmed Dance Academy, in collaboration with the Faculty of Fine Arts (Charukola Onushod), University of Dhaka, will stage “Ghonoghota 2” -- a monsoon dance recital following the resounding success of last year’s inaugural production.

Galleri Kaya in Uttara hosted a hands-on painting workshop for 15 JAAGO Foundation students on 9 July, held as part of an ongoing exhibition at the gallery.

Cloudbursts sound poetic; the monsoon is dreamy. Getting drenched in the rain, pouring steaming dudh cha into a saucer by the roadside and blowing across its surface, watching the city turn emerald under the downpour -- these are the images that make the monsoon feel romantic.

Chandra Bhattacharjee’s journey is one of hardship, and his philosophy is grounded in lived experience. One of India’s most talented contemporary artists, he carries a suave personality shaped by struggle and survival, with scars surfacing in muted tones.

I love exotic spices and use them in my culinary experiments. Sometimes the result is brilliant, while other times it’s a disaster. Still, I continue my witch’s brew with whatever herbs or spices I can get my hands on.

My earliest memories of Mohammadpur begin at Tajmahal Road, from a time when I was barely four, old enough to witness a world that felt steady and whole.

“He was jumping around the street, glowing -- he’d just personalised his own Messi jersey. I couldn’t resist asking for a picture.

The 10th of Muharram, the first month of the Islamic calendar, marks Ashura -- a day layered with sacred memory, grief, and devotion.

It was one of those easy evenings: my friend and I sprawled on the bed, gossiping in that unhurried way only comfort allows.

Currently in Dhaka’s shopping scene, the trending word is pre‑loved -- a positive, stylish term for second‑hand, used, or vintage clothing. You could call it the polished cousin of the hand‑me‑downs we grew up with.

The Buriganga holds unimaginable history, many stories, and so much more. It was never calm from the very beginning.

For 22 years, Galleri Kaya has remained a familiar and influential presence in Bangladesh’s art community. What began as a gallery has gradually evolved into something larger:

If you try to make sense of Dhaka traffic using only logic and Google Maps, you will very quickly realise that the city has no particular interest in cooperating with either of them.

Our city dates back to pre-Mughal times; and Narinda, with this mosque, is a testament to that.

My story today is of Jyaishtha, the second month of the Bangla calendar, sweetly tucked between May and June, and lovingly nicknamed mishti mash -- the sweet month. It is a season not just of fruit, but of affection, abundance, and the kind of cordiality that defines Bengali summer.

I know it is the era of a cashless economy, and in Dhaka, like elsewhere, plastic money and electronic transfers underpin and replace physical cash.

Now that the Eid holidays are over and everyday routines -- schools, offices, and the familiar rhythm -- have begun, we are almost reluctantly rescheduling our lazy holiday hours.

Dhaka has two sides. New Dhaka is easy to spot with its branded cafés, high‑rise malls, glass towers, food courts, and co‑working spaces -- a city that looks like it is racing forward.