Bangladesh is currently facing a significant threat: skyrocketing urban temperatures, a heavy reliance on energy-guzzling air conditioning, frequent earthquakes, and devastating floods. As we look for solutions, we don't always need to look forward to expensive tech; sometimes, we need to look back at how ancient civilisations mastered climate control, protected their homes from earthquakes, and lived in harmony with rising waters.

The headlines from across the capital are chilling and serve as a grim wake-up call for every household. In Dhaka’s Nikunja area this year, an explosion at an air conditioner repair shop recently left two individuals with horrific injuries. You may view your AC as a simple comfort, but the reality is that maintaining it has become a non-negotiable duty for your safety.

Some of Dhaka's most accomplished residential architecture belongs to a world that has never appeared in a magazine. Commissions pass by referral, from one household to the next, and much of the finest work being built in the city today

In the late eighteenth century, Dhaka was known across the world for a fabric so fine it was once called the finest cloth ever woven by human hand. Muslin, spun from a rare cotton plant that grew only along the banks of the Meghna River, was cleaned, spun, and woven by hand in a process reported to run sixteen steps long, much of it done by young women working in the humid hours before dawn because only they could see threads fine enough to disappear between the fingers. The exact plant itself is lost now, and so is the industry that depended on it, and what remains is closer to legend than living memory. It is one thread in a much longer pattern, a country that has spent centuries making, building, and shaping things of real quality, and rarely pausing to write that history down in one place.

Painting a wall sounds simple enough until you are halfway through and realise how quickly it can go wrong. Uneven patches, visible roller marks, paint where it absolutely should not be, and a colour that looks nothing like what you imagined under shop lighting. It is one of those jobs people either avoid entirely or underestimate completely. In reality, it sits somewhere in between. Very doable, but only if you respect the process.

In a heavily populated city like Dhaka, choosing a home is a tactical balance between accessibility, budget, and safety. Dhanmondi, Bashundhara R/A, and Uttara remain the most sought-after residential pockets, each offering a distinct lifestyle flavour tailored to its residents’ needs.

For Dhaka residents, the start of a new year has long been synonymous with “January anxiety". This is the season when tenants wait for a handwritten note or a phone call announcing an arbitrary rent hike, often accompanied by restrictive house rules. According to the Consumers Association of Bangladesh (CAB), middle-income families now spend up to 65% of their earnings on rent.

In most Bangladeshi cities, the balcony has quietly gone from “nice little breathing space” to “architectural afterthought.” Developers squeeze every square foot indoors, and what you get outside is just enough room to stand, turn, and question your life choices. Four people? Only if everyone agrees not to inhale at the same time.

As we move through the dry window from January to April, the risk to Bangladeshi homes reaches a critical, statistically proven peak. Low humidity and increased electrical demands create a volatile environment where a minor oversight can escalate into a tragedy in seconds.

"Ayna Burir Adar" is a home designed to live in perfect harmony with nature. Built in Natore, the home brings a daughter's childhood memories back to life. Keeping the open spaces of the old house that the family grew up in, this new design recreates that same airy, sunlit feeling.

With the Personal Data Protection Ordinance (PDPO) 2025 now in place, Bangladesh is no longer merely a passive participant in the digital economy; it is beginning to articulate its own rules, rights, and responsibilities.

From early morning visits to Ramna Batamul to taking part in the vibrant and colourful Mangal Shobhajatra, our beloved celebrities carry countless cherished memories of Pahela Baishakh.

A true Baishakhi spread is about balance and not extravagance. It requires something refreshing, something indulgent, som ething hearty, and plenty that can be shared.

Pahela Baishakh is a sensory explosion of red and white, the rhythmic beat of the dhak, and the collective spirit of the Baishakhi Shobhajatra, originally known as Mangal Shobhajatra.

Every year, the air in Bangladesh transforms as the sun rises on the first of Boishakh. Growing up, I took the books and TV programs literally.

Dressing up for Pahela Baishakh is not easy, as there are a lot of considerations to be made. Baishakhi fashion was once synonymous with red and white, and while this timeless combo still holds a special place in our hearts, recent years have seen a delightful shift.

Pahela Baishakh in Dhaka is characterised by the colourful procession originally known as Mongol Shobhajatra, now officially named the Baishakhi Shobhajatra, Panta- Ilish (the famed fermented rice and Hilsa fish combination) and Halkhata -the opening of the new year’s account books.

Pahela Baishakh, the Bengali New Year, is one of the most widely celebrated cultural occasions in Bangladesh. While its essence lies in welcoming a new beginning through shared traditions, its expression varies from one city to another.

As the sun rises on the first day of the Bengali calendar, Bangladesh transforms into a vibrant canvas of crimson red and white.

Pohela Boishakh arrives like a quiet promise that no matter how heavy the past year has been, we get to begin again