Nada Dhaka Language Club
Languages have always been an integral part of human development. People, over the years, have learnt a lot from different cultures, by means of communication. Most people today, are well equipped with the knowledge of the English language, but that is not enough anymore. Most of the human resource recruiters, are now more interested in people who are multilingual.
The Dhaka Language Club, located at New DOHS, is offering as many as 14 language courses, namely, English, Bangla (for foreigners only), Arabic, Spanish, French, Malay, Swedish, Korean, Italian, Finish, Japanese, Russian, German & Chinese. All these courses come in a package deal consisting of 24 classes conducted on a span of 3 months costing TK. 5000 per language. The club has about 16 teachers working on a part-time basis from 9:00 A.M to 9:30 PM, 6 days a week. About 100 students are studying here currently. According to the club, Japanese is the most popular language, followed by Chinese and French.
The president and founder of the club, Mr. Masud A. Khan, believes that Bangladesh is losing valuable foreign currency in spite of exporting huge amounts of labour. He thinks that the export of unskilled labour is the cause behind lower wages for Bangladeshi labourers abroad, and he points out the language barrier as one of the major factors affecting the balance of payment deficits in our country.
Dhaka Language Centre started its operation during 1995 as a centre for learning English language only, but with time, they have grown in size. Besides tutoring for 14 languages, the club also offers the usual courses, such as, IELTS, GMAT, SAT & TOEFL. Student counselling for people looking to study in Japan is offered too.
For further information,
please contact at the following address or phone number.
By Taskin Rahman
The night sky was getting enlightened every now and then. The ground was shaking in an intense tremor as ear splitting booms reverberated every few seconds. The ambience resembled a screen-saver zooming past in the same odd way-flashes of brilliant light followed by a series of nerve-paralyzing sound works. If you forgot the intensity of the sound, you would think the place a habitat of frenzied people gone berserk on a particular occasion, sending plethora of fireworks heavenwards. Except that no people could be seen there in the first place. In fact there could not be any. The series of bombs being dropped from the dozen jets flying in a low altitude was aimed to destruct mortality.
The graveness of night draped Baghdad streets at last. The jets had left. And it made all the difference. Except one. Still, no movement could be seen anywhere --not a stir of shadow in the street corners, not a wisp of cough from a walking old man. The graveness was unbearable.
Wait! A small child, drowned by the darkness around him was lying cuddled, covered by a few layer of sheets at one blind end of an alleyway. Through the darkness you could hear the drumming of his little heart. Still, he could not get used to the silence and the darkness. Moments back, that he had felt and eternity, there was nothing but blinding flashes of light and thundering explosions everywhere. He had not expected it to cease. But it had......somehow. The darkness engulfing everything around did not intimidate him. Over the days he had experienced too much fear to be daunted by the mere darkness. He had seen the death of his parents, sister and other members of his family. He was along in this vast world where the people were cruel and greedy. The images of the dilapidation that he had encountered zoomed past in the back of his mind ..... the bodies ..... the debris. The remembrance only brought painful twists in his little heart. He devoured the darkness around him one more time. He could feel that he was dwelling halfway between life and death.
Darkness settled permanently over streets of Baghdad. So did the silence. But not for long. The only few people that welled there slowly drifted back to sleep. The gliding sound of the approaching fleet of fighter planes was not district. The monsters wee coming back.
By Mehrab Bin Bakhtiar
Do it yourself:
Even though summer has passed by, a hot and humid atmosphere has engulfed the city. The humidity is not reducing, despite the frequent downpours. In order to cool you down in this weather, we bring you a few ice-cream recipes that you can easily make at home, by yourself.
Chocolate dipped fruit - just melt some chocolate (white, milk or dark) and half dip your chosen fruit into it. Place to one side to set (on a sheet of foil). This works well with strawberries and grapes and looks and tastes great on top of ice cream.
Wafers - of different flavours (like chocolate, strawberry, etc.) to go with your ice cream.
A tree grows in Brooklyn
Francie Nolan's father died a drunkard. It was inevitable that things would end this way for the young, irresponsible Johnny Nolan. Yet, his family doesn't hate or despise him and neither will you if you read A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith. This is a novel that (for once) doesn't aim to preach. It is a simple portrayal of the life and struggles of a poor Brooklyn family trying to survive in a harsh world.
Francie is the quiet, shy teenage heroine of the story, which follows her metamorphosis from a girl to the end of adolescence. Along the way, she meets memorable characters, grows and finally leaves her girlish fantasies. But even she cannot escape the hardships of being born poor. She must also come to terms with the fact that her mother loves her brother more. Betty Smith's style of writing is simple, contemporary and humorous. Her portrayal of poverty, illiteracy may be moving and effective but she deserves to be congratulated for her characterisation, which is superb. The amount of detail given to each character leaves no doubt in the reader's mind that the book is a window into the writer's own childhood.
Perhaps the loudest, extravagant and warmest character is Sissy a man-crazy, child-loving monster who also happens to be Francie's Aunt. Despite the fact that Sissy can be easily branded a "a bad character" woman, that doesn't make her any less loving or kind. Francie's hero is her father Johnny, a singing waiter who fails to provide for his family. Through her eyes however, he is "life itself" and his presence can be felt even after his death. This of course is the most attractive side of the book it doesn't judge people from only one side of their character. Not all drunkards beat up their wives and children and not all those who live a life disapproved by society are unaffectionate.
Scattered throughout the book are evidences of changing times and attitudes. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn is a must read for mature readers. If you are sixteen or seventeen you can actually relate to what Francie goes through as a teen. One of these rainy days, get hold of this book and read it. Believe me, you won't regret it.
By Shoaib Alam
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