Pohela Falgun

"Pohela Falgun" means the first of the Falgun month, which marks the arrival of Spring ("Boshonto"). People all over the country welcome the season of flowers. Men and women traditionally wear yellow and orange. Poems, stage plays, dances and songs are being performed, with Dhaka University being the main area of the festivities.

Luckily I had this 13th of February off and my colleague advised me to go to university campus to enjoy this day in a sea of colours. I have never experienced "Pohela Falgun" in Bangladesh before so this was quite exciting to me, as I did not know what to expect.

Dhaka University was full of people - young and old, men and women. Yellow and orange were seen everywhere. People were roaming around, having snacks at the many street vendors, singing songs and just enjoying themselves.

I met up with a friend and ended up at Bangla Academy, where the Ekushey Book Fair (boi mela) takes place every year in memory of the language movement.
Luckily were able to see a live stage play there, which had incredible performances and shadow plays on the side stage.

It seemed that this year Bangladeshis might have had more of a reason to celebrate the arrival of spring, not only because the winter was cold, but it was also politically turbulent...

street vendors

eco-friendly

Hindu shrine

Gate of Bangla Academy

I reminisce

There is a smell of fried egg in the air. It is morning and the fog has disappeared. I pass a street food vendor on the way to the corner, where my rickshaw leaves. He is making breakfast - paratha with egg, daal and bhaji. And cha - one cannot forget the traditional milk tea in Bangladesh.

My rickshaw ride from Banani to Gulshan-2 is 30 Taka. I think it has rained last night as the street is partially wet. Dhaka is warm and dusty. The cold is gone. It is very sunny in the morning but I leave my sunglasses off.
It is supposed to be 28 degree Celsius today - in February. The rays of light shimmer through the trees and lots of little particles flow in the air. The fog has disappeared, Dhaka is dusty.

Here and there people are sweeping the streets. Someone is burning leaves, as the smoke surrounds me as I pass through. The green of the trees is obvious, all year long.

Today I decide not to put any headphones on - no Drake, Bastille, Imagine Dragons or Aloe Blacc. Dhaka is noisy. I don't pay any attention and my rickshaw driver goes straight although he is supposed to take a right, as I told him to drop me off in front of the Police Barrack at Gulshan-2. I give him 30 Taka and get off.

I cross the street and go up the elevator: Floor 11 with a view over the whole circle. Just a few weeks ago people used to march, protest, threw crude bombs and got into fights with the police. Now it seems like nothing has happened.

I arrive at work, switch on my computer but cannot focus; as I am thinking of my trip to Kuakata... I reminisce, I reminisce.