Do you love reading? If yes, then this article is especially for you. What if there was a space in busy Dhaka where you could spend hour after hour browsing shelves and finding one gem after another?

On a terribly warm night in November, I sat on my couch, alone in Bangkok, and switched off my phone. If it was true, I wanted to see it. But if I saw it, I didn't want to talk about it.

For years now, the persecution of Rohingya in Myanmar has been broadcast to the world largely through volunteers who use smartphones to send photos, audio and video clips out to the Rohingya diaspora, larger Muslim community and the world.

Thanks to Star Weekend for revealing the deplorable scenario of zoos at the district level in its last issue of December 1, under the title "Death camps for wildlife". The article was thought-provoking as it made me think of the importance

“Sometimes the questions are complicated and the answers are simple.” ― Dr Seuss

In Bangladesh, the roads are not meant for every Tamim, Dip and Harun. There is only one way you can truly utilise roads and reach your destination intentionally, fashionably late. That is if you're a government official, child of a government official or close relative of that child of a government official. Only then can you be like Moses and have the wrong side of the roads part for you.

Lo Que Me Hace Vivir

When after a long journey through mountains, valleys, villages and hills; I saw Deosai for the first time, it struck me as if Wordsworth wrote the poem for Deosai.

This October, UNESCO recognised Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman's March 7 speech as part of the world's documentary heritage. One of the most influential speeches of the country, those 20 minutes at the Ramna Race Course inspired tens of millions of Bangladeshis and laid the seeds for the country's freedom.

"You have to dream before your dreams can come true.” As I remember these words by APJ Abdul Kalam Azad, I say to myself, they resonate so perfectly with what our late Mayor Annisul Huq believed and expressed as much in a speech the graduating class of Daffodil University.

The year is 1980 something. I am 10/12 years old. My entire family is sitting in front of the TV on the eve of Eid, bubbling with excitement. Soon, Ananda Mela will come on. Eid was a lot of fun back then. There were three major attractions—new clothes,

Mystery of Innocence

Over the last few weeks, the row over Bollywood filmmaker Sanjay Leela Bhansali's upcoming film, Padmavati, has taken over the national consciousness in India.

For someone whose first vivid memory of football was the Italia 90 and whose lasting impression from that World Cup was Salvatore Schillaci's euphoric goal-scoring celebrations, it is hard to take in the fact that Italy will not be part of next year's World Cup in Russia.

Milk-white wicks swim in little pools of ghee. They sit atop a shiny green banana leaf—each a prayer for a loved one, a prayer to ward off evil spirits or a prayer to grant your wildest wishes.

Juboraj, the 19-year-old ailing lion is awaiting death in a cage at Comilla Zoo. His skeletal body and the rotting wounds on his back are stark signs of the extreme negligence that put him in this fatal state.

Puran Dhaka, even today, possesses enough heritage treasures to be the envy of many cities known for their historic character. Unfortunately, over the last decade, despite earnest efforts of civil society, activists and the media, there has been a steady increase in the erosion of its historic urban fabric.

For a few years now, the National Curriculum and Textbook Board (NCTB), the largest state-owned publishing house in the world, has been immensely criticised by civil society for their misprints, factual errors and ideologically inappropriate content.

Little Akib was in the last stages of advanced AIDS. A boy of 12, he looked six years old and was all skin and bones. He breathed his last on Sunday night. “He was fine this morning, talking and getting ready. I fed him as usual,” said his nani.

The fallout since Tazreen shows us that nothing really has changed in the garments industry. As the accounts of the Tazreen workers illustrate, they are left alone to pick up the pieces.