Mathews Chiran

Just a day after Pahela Falgun, the Amar Ekushey book fair was once again bustling with young couples yesterday, this time clad in red instead of yellow on the occasion of Valentine's Day.

Have you ever read a poem where each line is written by a different poet? Or one that is composed based just on a painting? How about a verse that must contain specific words chosen by a group of writers?

National Poet Kazi Nazrul Islam believed that anything that was created in the world, half of the credit goes to men, and half to women.

One of the refreshing sights of the Ekushey Grantha Mela is seeing people of all ages with diverse interests, coming together with one thing common among them: the love of reading. And the country's biggest book fair doesn't disappoint; from illustrated fables for children to the most serious political discourse -- it's hard to find a topic on which there is no book at the fair.

For children, yesterday's Shishu Prohor of this year's Amar Ekushey Grantha Mela became extra special as they were greeted by two special guests.

For bookworms in Bangladesh, the name of Prof Muhammed Zafar Iqbal is synonymous with science fiction.

Structures of various shapes and sizes, many of which are unfinished, surround a pond, filled with murky black water.

Although the Amar Ekushey Grantha Mela is yet to go in full bloom, bookworms are already scouting the stalls looking for new reading material.

At first glance, it looks like an ordinary auto-rickshaw with three wheels.

For about four years while the construction of the Moghbazar-Mouchak flyover was going on, residents of the city suffered through hours of traffic gridlocks, bumpy rides on submerged or pothole-riddled road below it, and severe air and noise pollution,

While the 11th national election has just been done and dusted, it has left its mark on the capital -- as it has on the rest of the country -- through thousands of posters and banners strewn across thoroughfares and alleyways alike.

When Rajon was born in 2016, his parents -- Mossammat Shajna and Gaus Ali -- were elated. He was after all their first child and the couple had been trying to conceive for a while.

If you had grown up in the early '90s, it's likely that many of your favourite memories include popping countless coins into video game arcades at a local store and immersing in a fun yet highly competitive world for a while.

Just last week, Gulshan 1 and 2, considered among Dhaka's most upscale areas, were overrun with posters of two candidates competing in the Dhaka-17 constituency.

When Bibi Kulsum Lipi got chance in Dhaka University last year, her first concern was to find a volunteer scribe during her exams throughout the semester.

Shirajul Islam was trying hard to stay awake. In between yawning, he was scratching his scruffy beard, not knowing what to say. It was Wednesday; 2:00pm to be exact. He looked tired.

At the break of dawn yesterday, a group of youths gathered in front of a field in the capital. Wearing “dakmanda” and “daksharee” (colourful attires made from raw cotton fabric traditionally worn like sarong), they offered prayers for a bountiful harvest.

When Shanta became pregnant for the second time, her family was elated.

As the sun beat down on the capital at around 1:00pm yesterday, sexagenarian Khijir Ahmed was seen looking for a spot to sit under the shade of a tree inside the High Court mazar (shrine), waiting for Zuhr prayers to be over.

A worn-out signboard stands on 4.16 acres of land on the west side of the National Parliament, reading “Playground open only to disabled persons”. There's no entrance to the ground, which looks practically abandoned -- full of thickets and not remotely resembling a playground of any sort.