Jannatul Bushra

If Dhaka ever commissioned an audio documentary of itself, the soundtrack wouldn’t bother with birdsong or anything that implies urban maturity. No, it would open with a long, nasal, soul-stabbing cry: “Murgiiiiiiiiiiiiii!”

Men want thoughtful, practical gifts that acknowledge their everyday stresses, not generic items like ties or perfumes. From paid bills and personal downtime to meaningful gestures and being truly noticed, the best gifts for men prioritize ease, relevance, and genuine understanding.

If there is one vehicle that truly defines Dhaka, it has to be the rickshaw! Three wheels, one bell, some flashy artwork, and infinite audacity. A contraption that makes you question science: how does it survive in a city full of apps, cars, and speed limits?

Ever noticed how every neighbourhood in Dhaka seems to have one thing in common? Wherever you go in this city, you’re almost always bound to run into a cat. Not the pampered ones with collars, nor the Instagram-ready breeds. I mean the real, streetwise Dhaka cats.

Often, while stuck at a traffic signal in Dhaka, all it takes is a glance left or right to notice a narrow alley slipping away, quietly mocking the chaos around you.

There are exhibitions you walk into and leave, and then there are ones that stay with you, not because of scale or spectacle, but because they make you feel. Kuhu Plamondon’s “Bags as Wearable Art” at Arka Collective in Banani belonged to the latter. On Saturday, 10 October 2025, the exhibition felt like more than an event — it was a unique affair where even the air seemed a bit textured, like the very fabrics that inspired her work.

The occasion was a special workshop, jointly organised by The Food Talk and C’Paris, and led by French chef-consultant Serge Gouloumes. The event’s focus is on introducing children to the art of making a French breakfast. And under chef Serge’s enthusiastic guidance, the little ones did that very well.

Dhaka never says no -- it welcomes everyone who arrives! The city may not hand you breathing space, but it will always carve out a corner for you -- sometimes generous, sometimes barely enough to call a coffin.