Jaya and Sharmin—a film produced by Jaya Ahsan—is a quiet reminder of who we were and still are, five years after the pandemic struck. In this quiet, haunting two-woman film, the pandemic is never centerstage—rather the film avoids its dramatization. There are no sirens, no scenes of hospital chaos, no feverish handheld camera work. Instead, the film offers what most pandemic stories avoid: the internal climate of a shared household. Time slows. Fear settles. News flits across the TV, unnoticed. Through understated rhythm, the film accomplishes something powerful—it keeps the focus on the emotional, relational toll of confinement, rather than its spectacle.
The first experience of the great river Padma is nothing less than overwhelming, and slightly terrifying. I first came to face the mighty river as a young lad in my teens sometime in April of the momentous year of 1971. My first sighting came with two terrors. My father was fleeing Dhaka with the family with the hope of crossing the river to escape the brutal onslaught of the Pakistan army. Arriving at the banks, there was the Padda (Padma) before us with its glorious panorama. It seemed like an oceanic river, with no sight of the other side, and the frightening prospect of crossing it.
When Subahdar of Bengal, Islam Khan Chishti, entered Dhaka in 1608 or 1610, he was accompanied by a diverse group of North and North-West Indians, Afghans, Iranians, Arabs, and other foreign Muslims and Hindus.
Dr Rebecca Prentice, Associate Professor of Anthropology and International Development at the University of Sussex, has studied garment workers’ health and labour rights for over two decades.
Bangladesh, often described as a land of rivers, is criss-crossed by more than 230 major and minor waterways.
“Who will pick up the duck’s photo?” The moment Rafia Sonamoni posed the question to a group of 26 children, four eager hands shot up, accompanied by excited shouts of, “I will!”
As Bangladesh seeks to recalibrate its path in the aftermath of recent upheavals, the time is ripe to revisit an oft-invoked but under-examined agenda: institutional reform. Institutions are crucial to understand, as they are foundational for governance, transformation, and economic development.
Trump’s proposed 37 percent tariff on Bangladeshi products would have crippled our economy; fortunately, the rate was reduced to a more manageable 10 percent.
Dhaka's air is a stew of brick kiln soot, exhaust fumes, construction dust, and factory emissions
When Zainul Abedin left Calcutta (now Kolkata) in 1947, as India and Pakistan negotiated a partition-ridden freedom from the British Empire, he was one of the city’s most acclaimed artists.
Medieval Bengal’s links to the Straits world, a narrow stretch of water connecting to Southeast Asia and beyond, are overlooked. This world saw not only ocean-going vessels, but also coastal and localised traffic which, like riverine transport, has gone largely unrecorded.
Rabindranath Tagore, whose genius touched nearly every branch of the arts and literature, left an indelible imprint on the world of drama—not merely as a playwright, but as an actor, director, and visionary of the stage.
Satyendra Nath Bose, more widely known as Satyen Bose, devoted 24 of the best years of his life to Dhaka University. On 1 July 1921, Dhaka University commenced its academic activities with only four departments, one of which was Physics. Prior to this, on 1 December 1920, P. J. Hartog assumed office as the university’s first Vice-Chancellor.
Mohammed Taher, a young Rohingya poet and teacher from the refugee camp in Ukhia, Cox’s Bazar, uses education and writing as tools for change.
“The sun rises, but the light of life seems to be stuck at the gate of the Tinbigha Corridor.”
There was a time when pens had “health issues” and needed to be taken to the “Pen Hospital.”
