It is morning in Dhaka, a beautiful sunny day, as always. I enjoy the view from my window while I wait for my tea.
I sit at my desk drinking a cup of tea and admiring the view from my window. There are trees everywhere; green and tall, stretching away into the distance, their leaves washed clean by the recent rain, still glistening with droplets of water.
Rich or poor, high or low, most parents devote their lives to the family. The humblest rickshaw puller dreams of his sons and daughters having a better life than his own.