Shamsad Mortuza

Instead of framing the issue as a debate on tradition versus modernity, we need to ask whether we are capable of caring for what we claim to value. If the crocodile was heritage, why was it not managed responsibly? If the child’s safety mattered, why was the danger not addressed earlier? If the shrine was sacred, why was its ecology left to improvisation?

I am sitting in a hotel room in Islamabad, reading a recent Bonik Barta report that makes a compelling argument:

A recent post by a colleague who had to pay Tk 2.5 lakh as an admission fee for his child at a reputed English medium school made me reflect on an anomaly that we have gotten used to.

There is something quite catchy and seductive in the way Mohammadpur is branded as the “City of God.” The phrase is loaded with a Brazilian flavour, conjuring cinematic memories of gang fights in narrow alleys, muggers on motorcycles, the prevalence of narcotics among frightened residents, territorial youth gangs, occasional police raids, and political protection.

The attic of my thoughts is peopled by figures whom I never thought would gather to murmur in my head; these are the voices of people who should never have to meet like this.

Recently, my university came together to celebrate a day that could have been just another checkbox for ranking metrics or media optics.

Nobody questions the potential of Cox’s Bazar. Clearly, it can compete with any of the top-class beaches elsewhere. For that, the administrators need to think beyond immediate, narrow interests. They need to plan access roads despite local pressures.

“My classroom has four ceiling fans, but if we are to attend online classes from home, we will need 50 fans.”