Mannan Mashhur Zarif

Being a Cardiac Surgeon, or being a doctor for that matter, was not his personal calling, rather much like a typical desi story, decided by the family patriarch. But even from his student life studying MBBS at Dhaka Medical College, he realised being a doctor was, in his capacity, a way to serve people.

Apart from being one of the most prominent modern painters of Bangladesh, it is common knowledge that Murtaja Baseer wore a hat with many feathers. He was not only an accomplished painter, noted novelist, and all in all, a socially conscious individual, but also a keen collector of coins, stamps, bank notes, and matchboxes.

Parisian fashion of the 1960s was witness to winds of change. And the world followed suit.

The English rain feels obligatory, like paperwork. It dampens already damp days and slicks the stones already smoothened by the ravages of a thousand seasons.

As cliched as it may sound, rainy-days have a special place in our hearts. For some, it’s the pitter patter of the rainfall, perhaps the picturesque cityscape visible through the open glass windows, or that earthy smell accompanying the first rain after a long period of warm, dry weather.

The singing troupes are, more often than not, amateurs. In wealthy households, professional musicians, or geedal as they are

At every refugee camp in the neighbouring country; at every training camp where valiant youth of the nation, farmers, day labourers, and able men and women learned warfare in the spirit to free their native land; at every liberated zone of Bangladesh — there were travelling musical troupes singing songs of freedom and victory.

Decem-ber 6, 1971. Three days into Pakistani pre-emptive strikes on Indian bases, the escalation of tensions in the subcontinent led Bhutan to accord diplomatic recognition to Bangladesh, followed by India only hours later.

Whenever one hears that I had spent eight straight days at St. Martin Island in the Bay of Bengal, most quizzically ask, “What did you do for so many days?”

The events were attended by my uncle and luminaries living in our neighbourhood at that time. I was only a child and they never let me pass by a chance of dancing before the audience wearing keys and anklets for ghungroos.

For the past few years, brides have chosen bejewelled pieces as their style statements. While they still reign supreme, there is a slow trend moving back to good old gold, in their myriad forms and hues even.

My TV time is somewhat restricted to snippets I get to see while getting out of the bedroom, only to reach the dinner table, and back.

While it is possible to buy four to five different saris, just for the sake of it, there are reasons to put some good thought into your purchases. Remember, the post weddings’ Second Act is where you once again emerge as a couple, and there needs to be coordination between you two.

As much as we want to avoid, we are now faced with weddings that have layer upon layer of hullabaloo before the big day, to the extent that one often gets exhausted. More so for the bride, but not so much for the rebellious kind.

Weddings are a celebration of life, and a chance for the bride and the groom to share the flair on stage, as they embark on a journey together, hand in hand.

If you are thinking this is yet another piece on our fantasy regarding the quintessential Bengali belle and their mesmerising eyes, then pause. This is exactly that…and perhaps, a little more.

I Googled “Sharing food,” and the results were as bizarre as the search itself. But it proved a point.

Eid day; the men, the women, and the children have all returned from Eid prayers. The butcher — amateur in all aspects — gets busy with his new found profession; he is the ubiquitous ‘butcher for a day’ on active service!

The TV channels are already airing trailers; celebrities promoting their shows on Social Media, and control freaks jotting ‘to-dos’ on notes and pasting them all over the monitor. Setting aside the fact that a downpour on Eid day is highly probable, we are all set for a picture perfect Eid — and isn’t it just as always?

“How do seasons change?” And on philosophical lines — “Why?”