Shahana Huda

If the pandemic lockdowns make you feel trapped and you feel like visiting some place within Dhaka, the University campus is a safe bet.

Back in the days of yore, on a visit to my paternal grandfather’s house in Nilphamari, a particular sight caught my fledgling eyes, 8-10 people sitting on a floor-mat laid out in the veranda and eating heartily.

It was not that long ago when travelling just meant going to one’s ancestral homes. Then again, there were not many options available for families or friends during the long stretch of Eid and Puja holidays. The denizens of the upper echelon had the opportunity to go overseas, but even they were a handful in number.

Just after crossing the Jamuna Bridge, the road that goes to Rangpur is beset with fields that spread as far the horizon.

It was a place I had visited once, but the intense love I felt for it drove me to visit the small Garo village of Achkipara twice. The first time was in summer, my group went as guests to a Garo family.

Bhorta is just another staple for Bengalis, and one that makes us say ‘No’ to even rich delicacies — polau, korma, kachchi, or otherwise. Bhortas come in various forms, each indigenous to the localities, cultural variations, and the supply of produces, because the ingredients of a bhorta should be as fresh as possible.

It was the usual hangout. And of course a heated debate began out of the blue. The topic of discussion – is fish tastier when fried

Five of us friends were sat on a suspended balcony over a sizable mountain, with the Timor Sea underneath; an unobstructed view of the sea meeting the horizon and the nearby mountains, with a road snaking through.

Jodi tor daak shune keo na ashe, tobe ekla cholo re (If no-one heeds your call - then walk alone). The indomitable Rama Chowdhury, known to many as Ekattuker Janani (Mother of '71), had made this line from the famed Tagore song the guiding ideal of her life.

On the road from Makkah to Madinah, the desert, the rubble filled hills, occasional date trees, and a few camels and sheep caught my eye.

Hajj pilgrims often remain so wrapped up in the rituals of the pilgrimage that they do not have time to explore the suburbs of the holy cities of Makkah and Madinah. But with a little effort, anyone can easily make time to create the scope to do so, and try to walk Islam's history in person.

Bangladesh — irrespective of its size as a nation, has always been important due to its geographical position. Over the millennia, migratory patterns have brought people to this lush delta from all regions, not only of the subcontinent, but also across the oceans.

Ever since I was young, I have frequently travelled from Dhaka to Rangpur, and the majority of these times, our family had to use the ferry boats at Aricha to cross the Padma and enter the country's northern regions. This was true throughout the 70s and 80s and also the first half of the 90s. The ferry crossings were quite tedious, at times risky, and extremely time-consuming. It usually took two to three hours

This quote readily applies to our country's rich cuisine as you will also not experience such lovely and delicious food anywhere else. Yes, I am talking about Bangladeshi food. No matter where Bengalis live in the world, the taste of their own cuisine remains to them like the proverbial honey. The eternal Bengali comfort food, khichuri-gosht-omelette, with a dash of ghee or a spoonful of achar, almost always brings a smile to a Bengali heart; more so if it is raining outside- irrespective of your geographic location.

Once upon a time there used to be 'melas', or local fairs, even in Dhaka. Baishakhi mela, Muharram mela, Eid mela, and Durga Puja mela were just a few of the variety of melas that we use to have.

The sea, millions of grains of sand, rain, sunsets and sunrises; the moon, and tranquillity— if you want to enjoy nature in all its glory, Mermaid resort is the place for it.

Perhaps you have been yearning to see the famed Kanchenjunga for long. But because of the international travel involved, and the various red tapes, it has not materialised yet.

“Kothao amar hariye jawar nei mana...” was probably an outpouring of a latent desire of the post 1400 (Bengali Year) middle class

As a country, we started exploring the issue of female workers' migration quite late. The issue is compounded by our conservative and patriarchal society, lack of education, and family pressure and responsibilities.

A young woman I know was telling me about her son, a student of class three, a few days ago. While fiddling with her son's tab, she found some disturbing sites -- all with adult or pornographic content.