There’s something about rain in Dhaka. It doesn’t come politely. It arrives in sheets, in sideways gusts, soaking your bag, your back, and your plans. But once you let go of the instinct to rush for shelter, there’s a certain honesty to it -- the kind that peels off layers. You notice the city differently when it’s wet and slow.

We’ll be honest—instead of all the work we had piled up today, be it taking or attending classes, editing articles, or reporting news, all we at The Daily Star wanted to do was curl up with a good book, wrap ourselves with blankets and sink into some good old, comforting storytelling.

I probably won't be too wrong in saying, there is nothing likeable about the rainy season if you happen to be a Dhaka resident who have to be out and about, rain or shine.