Sayam U Chowdhury

Six years ago we were camping at Hail Haor in Moulvibazar's Sreemangal to study migratory passerine birds. Although our work involved watching birds early in the morning,

As the final light of the day hid behind the canopy, the first bat of the night unfolded its wings and the last bird of the day

Karim mama used to display bird feathers just across our school gate. He only had feathers of one kind -- long and spatula-

It was the end of July and the scorching sun was up above at midday. While Dhaka was still reeling from the July 1 tragedy, I

While we have failed to protect most of our forests in Bangladesh for complex reasons, Sundarbans firmly stands in the south with all its glory.

It was still dark when I woke up and went to the roof of our boat, which was docked at the heart of Pashur river. The crows

Almost tumbling down the damp and slimy slope, with thorny rattan snagging my arms, I struggled to keep my balance under

I could barely wait when I first heard that a pair of blue birds had temporarily made their home on the southernmost tip of our land. It might sound

It is common knowledge now that the Sundarbans is home to globally endangered species like the Bengal Tiger but it is news to most that our Sundarbans also supports critically endangered species like the River Terrapin or the endangered Fishing Cat. Both of these species are undergoing a sharp decline and disappeared from most of their ranges throughout Asia.

If you have been to Bandarban town, you have probably seen a sculpture of a massive bird with a large bill sitting proudly in

After a wonderful bus ride through the hills and along a wide stream dotted with rocks and gravels, we reached the Jungle Safari

The rivers that carry stories from the Himalayas silently spread their throbbing veins across the mangroves to take on new shapes and spirits - in the face of the old weather beaten man, in the starchy yellow sari of the newlywed, in the dreams of the ten-year-old and in the countless faces that live in the tide country.

Have you ever been to our hills, deep enough to know its real inhabitants? I suspect very few of us have been beyond the boundaries of the hill-towns.

Have you seen the barn owl in the moonlight, inaudibly searching for a field mouse to feed its young or the flying squirrel leaping from one tree to another filtering the light and the shadow of the moon? Have you seen an egret flying into the moon, or just one dwarf tree standing alone in the plains under the full moon, creating a black and white negative of its daytime image?

Dhaka was surprisingly fogless as I headed southward towards the sea at dawn that late December. It was the last mode of transport for the day to get to Hatia Island when I reached the 'ghat'. The destination, Domar Char, the wave island, one of two detached limbs of Hatia Island, the other being Nijhum Dwip, the silent island.

Bangladesh has seen enough damage to its resources even prior and post 1971 and now 42 years after liberation, perhaps it is time to stop the selfish agendas, cutting and destroying and initiate the restoration what was once already there, for at least the chance of a greener tomorrow.

Far from the Bay, along the foothills of the Chittagong Hill Tracts, a few trees still stand tall and have witnessed hundreds of winters, summers and monsoons. Still they propel water with love to the village surrounded by their green turf, they provide shade while we chop them down into pieces; the trees offer us fruits to eat or give blossoms that add colour and fragrance to our horizons. While searching for peace from the uncompassionate, unsafe, unyielding, unfair and urban means of city life, I wandered through the thin vegetation and empty hilltops.

Here in the Waterland, people are yet to learn the trick of hiding their true faces behind well-polished material masks. They are not crowned with higher education nor do they wear foreign fragrances to veil the magnitude or odour of the little or the immoral sins they commit. When I looked at those fishermen who returned from fishing in 'no-fishing areas', I could clearly see the guilt and the fear reflecting in their eyes and expressions.