Dhaka is full of stories and opportunities. However, living in the capital city comes with a price. Mostly in the form of time, physical and mental stress, and last but not least, stress on your pockets. But perhaps nothing annoys the residents more than the toil of its traffic.

Picture a day where wagging tails, playful paws, and laughter fill a space, with a chance to witness the unique, unspoken connections between humans and animals

Imagine you’re flipping through a book on Dhaka’s history. As you turn the pages, you come across a chapter on the Tara Mosque. Something about it feels familiar. You’re right -- you’ve seen it before.

This is an image of Saat Gombuj Masjid in the Mohammadpur area

Rushing from one university to another, filling out endless forms, searching for a hostel or a shared mess, and trying to keep up with a city that never hits pause -- all while preparing for the entrance exams that could shape their future.

Nilkhet is not merely a name on Dhaka’s map; it is an emotion. A place steeped in layers of memory, significance, and quiet reverence for the book lovers of this bustling city.

Dhaka is not that big of a city. But there are way too many people, and while the number of buses is not little either, it’s far from enough. The daily bus commutes in Dhaka are tedious but if one is willing, there are plenty of drama and stories to find. Today, we will count the five types of p

Living in Dhaka is an adventure like no other; a chaotic symphony where every moment feels like a test of resilience. The city thrives on contradictions, making survival an art form and endurance a badge of honour.

The road is actually named after a man named Inglis (or Ingles)

As I seated myself in the Halda Valley Tea Lounge, seeing the way the welcome drinks were served left me in awe.

As the CNG-run auto-rickshaw pulled away, I stepped onto the culvert, the cool evening air wrapping around me like a cloak. Just ahead, a pack of stray dogs roamed the street, their loud barking echoing in the quiet night.

Once upon a time in Dhaka, tea drinking was limited to the Kashmiri, British, and Armenian households

I had nothing significant planned for last Friday, and was absent-mindedly saying yes to all sorts of plans my friends were making; completely forgetting an important wedding reception I had to attend that very day.

“It’s a wonderful experience to see the works of two artists from different mediums in the same exhibition -- works that seem to express their inner thoughts in two different ways, yet woven together by a single thread,” these words from a visitor, Nuzhat Jahan, perfectly encapsulates the exhibition Visually Bimurto by Habibur Rahman and Shamsad Rahman.

The first week of January passed quickly, as we sorted through pictures of Dhaka submitted for our My Dhaka Lens competition.

The mosque is definitely worth a visit for its overallsplendour and beauty. 

When speaking about Gulshan and Banani, the two most elegant areas of Dhaka, a polychromatic image of towering skyscrapers, corporate prestige, and the opulence of daily life comes to mind. At the middle of these two urban epicenters, hides another reality that often dismays the people of its neighborhood, named Korail.

The story goes way back, when this piece of artillery was located in a “char” named Moghlani Char

I would not go near Tetulia simply because I love the tropical weather in Dhaka. For the two months that winter lasts here in Bangladesh, this old city is cloaked in a mild chill. That is enough for Dhaka locals to bring out their monkey caps, mufflers, coats, and whatnot.

Hollowed cane chairs with pillowy cushions in white cotton covers surrounded a cane centre table with a glass top, on which, there would be a brass flower vase, posing with beautiful pink roses or gardenias from the garden -- this was how verandas looked years ago in Dhaka, or casual day rooms. Cane furniture was a timeless and vintage home décor style in Dhaka homes of the sixties.