Sarah Anjum Bari

Watching television snuggled between my parents or grandparents; talking to them for hours; rubbing their feet when they were tired from work. On quite a few of these occasions, my father will say something that he means as a compliment, but one that takes me by surprise every time. He wonders aloud if I'd still be spending time with them this way if I were a son. I argue, every time, that that's beside the point.

On May 5, 2017, an employer poured boiling water over an eight-year-old domestic help – a child – for breaking a glass by mistake.

The past few weeks, at least for young audiences of American television in Bangladesh, have been rife with different variations of the same discussion.

From the outdated legal concepts under which cases of rape are tried in court, the “medical” tests that are required for proving rape, to the institutions which are supposed to stand by the survivor, it is not surprising that many women are scared or traumatised to even report incidents of sexual violence.

In tracing the shifts from joint families of yesteryears to some single-parent households of today, what is happily evident is that the essence of the family remains the same.

The fact that 13 women have been killed and 17 physically abused over dowry in Bangladesh in January and February of 2017 does little to rattle us. Neither do the figures of 107 deaths, five suicides, and 94 physical abuse victims in all of 2016.

Looking up information on underprivileged children's education in Bangladesh, I found a picture online of a classroom that looked far

The internet is abound with stories of how sports can, and is, changing the world. How it helps build physical fitness and traits of teamwork, respect, and resilience.

Contrary to horror stories narrated by some standardised test veterans, the GRE isn't designed to rob you of your sleep and social life weeks before you sit for the test.

Bill Condon's 2017 rendition of The Beauty and the Beast ends with a song by Céline Dion. “How does a moment last forever?

As a student of English literature, “Eshob pore ki hobe?” is a question I've had to face on a near-daily basis.

"They said that the divorce rate in Bangladesh is so high because women these days are getting too educated, which gives them the independence to leave their husbands when they are abused physically or refrained from an activity; this wouldn't be allowed in earlier times."

A recent video circulating on Facebook, created for February 21, starts with a living room scene in a well-off household. A young girl of about eight or nine years – a house maid with bedraggled hair and a tired face – walks past her employer's daughter who is roughly as old as her.

We have been striving to evolve as a progressive society – one that frowns upon discrimination and stands up for victims of injustice, regardless of their gender or background. In truly embracing such ideologies, we must learn to perceive mental issues as illnesses – no more shameful than an ailing lung or liver – and combat them with the correct treatment and, above all, sensitivity.

A group of teenagers spray-painted a historically black school with racist and anti-Semitic messages recently in Virginia. The judge, as reported by the Huffington Post on February 7, 2017, served the young men an unusual punishment: writing reports on a list of books and movies, besides also visiting a Holocaust museum and doing research on the swastika.

The frighteningly regular reports of dowry-related violence, often resulting in the death of women, demonstrates how persistent and overpowering the culture of dowry is in this country. The amended Dowry Prohibition Act 2017 approved by the Cabinet on January 30, 2017 is a noteworthy step in reiterating the illegality of this practice. But in order to wipe it out effectively we must truly delve into the dynamics that still keep the dowry custom alive.

Travel stories have become a failsafe story-writing hack in recent times – the second cheesiest plot structure next to the main character suffering from cancer.

15-year-old Adnan Kabir's death at the hands of teenage gangs has come as a shock to many adults, especially parents who had no inkling of the existence of such gangs.

It is that special time of the year. As winter mists descend over the glitter and chime of festivities, there is also the nostalgia of yet

Disney movies have been a large part of most childhoods, irrespective of location or culture. It's amazing how, aside from all the magic, their stories have also managed to reflect and adapt to evolving world sentiments.