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Birthday thoughts

The RS staff writers penned down their thoughts regarding your favourite paper on their combined birthdays. Enjoy.

RS Desk
This week mark's Rising Stars 19th year, and in celebration of this special occasion the whole team has gotten together to bring out 16 pages of your favourite magazine. 19 years would not have been possible without constant support from our readers, so here's to you!

The Blue King says…
RS is a beautiful place, half full of beautiful people. So if you fit the 'beautiful bill', read more avidly and hit us up with some love more regularly. Nothing could be more fulfilling.
By Osama Rahman

He who must not speak
It's where I go to scream. Muffled.
By S. N. Rasul

Read, in the name of your Lord!
How fast time flows; it's been a year and 2 months since my first day at Rising Stars. Aside from the hilarious meetings, the mad ideas, the fear of getting yelled at for missing deadlines, the best part about every meeting is that I always walked out knowing more about the world than I did coming in and I absolutely love that. No matter what it is I learned - politics, sports, books or even stories about buas, drivers and lungis - I love all of it.
By Tanzia Amreen Haq

The Phat One
I came. I took over.
By Tareq “Pop Psychobabble” Adnan

Blast from the past
Working and writing for RS gave me a sense of purpose, and I was able to experience how a professional organization runs at an early age. I worked with a talented and enthusiastic group - Simnan, Naved, Wara, Sabrina, Hamdan, Nayeem - it was fun and challenging!
By Munjulika Rahman

The Greenhorn
Getting into Rising Stars was the breach between reality and fantasy. And it still is, in a way. The star-struck awe doesn't really let go of you, even after three years. Cool people, even cooler ideas: RS resides somewhere in the Stratosphere.
By Kazim Ibn Sadique

RS and me
“A cockroach?!” was the first reaction I got from a colleague in RS after telling her my name.

“No, it's Kokoro. It means 'Heart' in Japanese,” I politely corrected her. She, however, still looked perplexed.

“And Chan? Are you related to Jackie Chan?” she asked.
“Um, no,” I said. “The '-chan' part is merely a suffix. It's something you put after a close person's name.” I

“Ko-koro, kokoro, kokoro,” she babbled. “Hey, it's like the murgi sound. Kokoro ko, kokoro ko… ”
“No, just Kokoro. That's it.”
“Kok-kok koro kok-kok… ”
“No, it's… ”
“Kokoro-ki-koro hihihi… ”
“Okay, stop it.”
“Kukuru… ”

She left RS a short time after this. She was a, um, 'fun' colleague.
By Kokoro-chan

The hated love doctor
I remember, quite vaguely, I should add, the day the RS editors came to My mansion and begged Me at My feet to join their staff. I had read their magazine a few times in the past years and they needed Me, that was certain. It was probably because of the female leadership, but the writers needed a boost as well. I was busy with Dipjol's daughter at that moment, helping her deal with the emotional scars she had inherited from her father's immensely terrible movies. It was going to be an intense session. So anyways, the next week I walked into RS and immediately, I could pick up a stench. The stench of incompetence. The Doctor's omni-benevolent heart could take no more and pity ravaged away at My core and I decided to bless them with the enigma that is I. It is no surprise now, that I am the best thing to happen to RS and readership has increased exponentially.
Kiss My feet.
By Dr. Lovelove

The Other Doctor
RS is where the cats come out of the bags.
By Dr Who

Oh, the hunger… The hunger…
I joined RS in the hopes of being able to tame that wild beast in my stomach. Three years later, I'm still hungry. RS makes me hungry.
By Emil

The Don Drones
Nothing sums up the experience of working at RS like the Industrial Revolution; poor working conditions and poorer wages. *Sigh* The things I do for seeing my name on print.
By Wahid T Khan

My first article published in RS was a fiction, way back in class eight (2003). I woke up early, unfolded the morning paper, found my printed article, stared at my name below it… and kept staring. I didn't scream, I didn't shout, I didn't run around madly. The happy feeling was there, yes, but I simply didn't know what to do with it. At first I thought I wouldn't tell anyone. Nobody knew I could write anything other than exam-answers, nobody knew I used to read RS regularly and kept a healthy pile of the paper underneath my bed. Hell, nobody even knew I had bribed my cousin into mailing my article from a cyber café! I didn't even have internet at my place… Anyway, morning moved on and as I watched my mother yawning and stretching to get ready for yet another busy day of work, I had a feeling that I at least should tell her. And when I did, sort of matter-of-factly, she simply stared at me as if I was a descendant of the Martians standing there instead of her own flesh and blood daughter. Then the spluttering “When did you…? How did you…? Since when do you…?” eventually gave in to a euphoric outburst as I watched, wide-eyed, while my mother ran around the room waving the paper crazily and talking to relatives over phone excitedly. In a period of an hour she almost had the whole Dhaka city-list covered up. “Sheesh, it's just a stupid story, what is she doing? It's so embarrassing…” I thought to myself as I stood in front of her, slightly gaping, watching her do exactly the things that would have suited ME better instead, had I been doing them… and I felt a slow smile creeping across my face. “God, grown-ups can be so childish at times!” It was a pleasant realisation, and I solely thank RS for it.
By Raisa Rafique

To the readers:
Working at RS was never something I had particularly intended; it simply slipped in and comfortably tucked its seams into my routine some six months ago. I find it hard to imagine, though, how much I'd look forward to each week without the meetings, however bone-crackingly inappropriate or awkwardly unproductive they might be. Not to mention living with the perpetual terror that my editor's incredible patience will soon reach its limit with regard to my unfailing ability to miss deadlines.
By Risana Malik

So long
“NINE years! Wow, you're - ”
“Don't say it..”
“ …ancient!”
“You said it.”
“Dude. You're practically an RS relic”
“You've literally spent a decade here”
“Gee. I didn't notice”
“You planning to stick to this forever and ever?”
“Actually, now that you mention it, no. I'll be gone in a few months.”
“Wow. That's going to be …hard. Isn't it”
“I haven't really thought about it.”
“All those different teams, so many friends, your readers, fan interaction, chairing meetings, conducting interviews -
“Yes, yes, RS has been a lifestyle for me…heh, get it? Lifestyle? No? Ah well…”
“ And you're going to be leaving all that behind. That's got to be a big deal for you, right?”
“Is it?”
Later, I found myself doing what I promised myself I wouldn't. I did think about it. It is a big deal. And it's going to be, well. Hard.
By Sabrina F Ahmad

Birthday Blast from the Past

I just realised it's been almost 10 years that I first wrote for RS. I get old with every birthday, but RS I assume gets younger. Hey, maybe we should make a movie about RS and be up for a few Oscars?

Crappy jokes aside, being in Rising Stars was one of the most rewarding experiences of my life. Seeing your name for the first time in print; being hated and hunted by colleagues for some controversial piece; reading magnanimous fan mail on absolute trash like Horoscope; crazy brainstorming and addas at Saturday meetings - there was always something unique and fulfilling to being a part of RS.

Rising Stars to me is one of those things in life that you grow out of but always look back at fondly. One of those sources of countless memories and stories - some ordinary, some anything but. At a personal level, RS has played its part in defining who I am. I only hope the writers (if I can be audacious enough to call myself that) after me enjoyed their time in RS as much as I did, and that the readers still hold it as close to heart as I did when I was not a writer but just another fan of the greatest teen mag in the country.

Hamdan Kabir aka Hamdu Mia

RS Mailbox

Word on our last issue:
Shams Quader: It was a great issue overall this time out, really enjoyed "the fame monster".
Zahra Mayeesha: Loved this week's issue!! I can't rant about how awesome the articles I liked are, so I'm just gonna list the names of the writers: S. N. Rasul, Dr. Who, the Don Khan, Sabrina F. Ahmed, Musarrat (although I liked last issue's one better :D) and a shout out to Hussain, the web-comic freaak: loved ur article mainly cause I'm a web comic freak too!!

Rojin Ammar: Momster was … ( okay..i'm kinda speechless here ) and Momtunes was innovative.
Numaya Shahriar: OK so the fame monster was OK. Nano tales were good. I really liked my friend Sanjana's poem and also Musarrat's article was good, too! All in all it was an OK issue!

Yasif Hasan: The best things about RS: Nano Tales and Babu. I find that Lovelove guy ultra-lame. Love Musarrat and Osama's writing. Sharier is a hero.
Rayaan Ibtesham Chowdhury: The Momster! Breathless!

Husne Jannat: Nice one. Osama & S.N. Rasul were good, as usual. Dr lovelove seems to hate girls a lot, how did u manage urself lady lovelove?! Nondless loved luvluv too.
Redwan Hossain: First of all, congratulations to the Dr. You finally got yourself a "crush mail" (lady lovelove beware… :P). Osama your one was interesting to say the least. Rasul, did I EVER wish that my ammu was as cool as your ammu... but then again I love my ammu very much the she is...

Birthday dedications:
Ashraf Uz Zaman: Happy Birthday RS, lots of love to you.
Redwan Hossain: Happy birthday RS... love... love… and always love for you guys... :D
Rojin Ammar: Happy Birthday RS... ur gettin old... and not a child anymore (18 is the max to be regarded as a child under the new law)... and a salute to all you guys...
Ahnaf Ahmed: Its been a few months since I have started reading The Rising Star and I've fallen in love with it from the moment I picked up my first issue. You guys make thursdays alot more special. So, Happy 19th RS! Keep up the good work.

Eshpelin Mishtak:
From morning till night... See more
May your birthday be bright
And be filled with light

And as years come and go
May your happiness grow
And your dreams be fulfilled even more

Happy birthday RS :D
Kazi Azwad Ahmed: Take us to KFC.
RS: We'll pay for the transport, you pay the bill.

Samiha Rahman: OMG Robert Pattinson's birthday is on May 13, too! I know most of you guys hate it, but it's the truth! :D

RS: We were here and kicking butt when Pattinson was wetting his diapers. Hang on… why, oh why do you know his birthday??

Humans vs Zombies

LET'S get to the point; we don't have enough time for silly introductions. I am going to show you how to survive, and if you can’t fight off dumb little zombies, you don’t deserve to survive at all! This is war, comrades, and I expect you to behave like soldiers!

First things first: you hear about people biting each other, you do NOT wait. You wait, you die. It’ll be risky with all the zombies running around and no one having a clue what’s going on (except you, of course), but it’s the best chance you have to gather resources before humans are overrun– that includes banding together in a small community. You wait more than three days, you deserve to die. Hell, I’ll be surprised if you can wait three days. Zombies are hungry, can smell you, and break doors.

But I am going to be realistic. This is Day 2 and you FINALLY decided to put Zombie Apocalypse Plan in action. I am assuming you know where to get weapons. You don’t need a fancy one – we are not dealing with robots or armoured aliens. They have human bodies with toned down human vulnerabilities. You need to shoot a lot, and be accurate enough to blow their brains off. That’s the only sure fire way to kill zombies, regardless of what Zombieland tells you. I prefer submachine guns with at least .357 hollowpoints. Anything less than .305 will kill, but lacks stopping power. Unfortunately, they are hard to come across so you will have to settle for Uzis and AK-47s. Handguns with .22 calibers or less won’t stop a zombie unless it’s a headshot. You’ll also need a melee weapon: Katanas will be over your head, so you’ll have to make do with a machete.

It astounds me that people in the movies don’t wear some kind of armour during an invasion, seeing as how infections spread through bites. Get a lightweight Kevlar and/or a padded leather jacket as soon as possible, as well as a backpack to carry enough food in the form of protein bars (anything else will just slow you down) and water for a week. Antibiotics and painkillers are a must, as is some sort of ADD medication to help you keep yourself concentrated.

It is absolutely imperative to group together and fortify a building. Zombies tend to do what they were doing while they were alive, so crowded areas like a school or a mall is a big no-no. An apartment building will work great, and a warehouse with very few entrances will be even better. Surround yourself with cameras, booby-traps, flashlights, and don’t forget to keep guard! It’s a warzone outside! And get ammunitions. Lots and lots of ammunitions.

Zombies aren’t smart. They’ll probably die of starvation sooner rather than later. They never seem to get around the idea of refrigerators. So my strategy is to wait them out. But if you are going to travel anyway, bikes are fast and preferable if you are alone (there won’t be any electricity, so you need and can siphon off fuel faster), but cars are safer. Travel in groups of twos to the least, and definitely not with any one who can’t use a gun.

In a worst case scenario where you are the only one left, you should move north. I really don’t think zombies can survive long in the cold, and snow will slow them down. There should be enough canned food in Alaska, if not, you can always hunt. Always keep a line of communication open. It’ll be likely that some army base somewhere or a nuclear submarine have survived as well. And when you all group together, it will be time to form an army to wage war! It will be time will come to take back what’s rightfully yours! It will be glorious!

By Hussain M Elius

HELLO, hello and hello, my zombie minions. I am your all-powerful Undead Overlord. Welcome to the new age world. As you most assuredly must have realised by now, ALL of you are zombies. No, don't look so yellow. Or, I guess that's not your fault. It's not important how it happened, or why, or when. I doubt you could process such delicate information with your rotting brains. In fact, it's taking a toll on me just to maintain this ITF (Intelligent Telepathic Field). Anyway, the only thing that matters is that we are all zombies and the only thing that can satiate our hunger is the salty, and strangely sweet, flesh of the common human being.

Yes, you are dead. Yes, you are impervious to pain. Unfortunately, you are not invincible, nor are you immortal. And if you thought runny noses were annoying, wait till you get bouts of runny skin and runny limbs. The less you have to eat, the more of that it will happen. So, it's vital that you find sustenance as often as you can. The more you get, the stronger you will be. Who knows, someday your brain might even be as developed as mine. Well, actually. Never mind.

There are some things that you have to keep in mind. Some rules of thumb that you should follow.

Pack life: You better start getting used to pack life, and working as a team. Never, ever fight among yourself. Firstly, flesh of your kind is poison, so don't bother trying to go for the easy way to survival. Hunt in groups. In very, very large groups. Go alone, and you will most assuredly re-die. Go with a buddy or two, you will re-die. So when I say hunt in large groups, I mean REALLY large. Surround your target (singular, preferably. More targets = more guns in your faces), and share the meal like the good little deadbeats that you are.

Choose your location: Be wise. Be very, very wise when you're choosing your targets. That should go hand-in-hand with choosing the location of the kill. You can afford to be picky if your targets are the crippled and the bedridden, but otherwise, you need to be careful. Closed spaces will provide you with the possibility of cornering your target into a dead-end. But the advantage of your massive numbers will mean nothing when you're running through corridors and hallways. Any half-brained dolt would be able to pick you off one by one with a Smith & Wesson 500. Open spaces, like roads and what not, will favour numbers better, but be careful of targets wielding assault rifles or any burst fire guns.

Accessories: All of you have num

erous accessories at your disposal. When besieged by groups of zombie hunters, use distracting tactics to split the team apart, and pick them out one by one. God knows how much of these instructions you lot will be able to retain, but I can hope for the best. Remember, getting shot does NOT stop you. Nothing stops you short of having your brains blown out. You never tire, you never sleep, and you never stop. Lost a hand, make a human lend you one. One of your legs ran away? Crawl to your prey. You are unstoppable forces of unnature, and THEY are just flesh and blood, ripe for your picking.

The Magnum: Yes. You heard that right. They WILL be carrying this. If you come across anyone armed with this. Either take 'em out quick, or run and pray for your unlives. We're lucky the .500 never became very popular. Being shot by that is like being hit by a magnet-train. Heck, even being in the near vicinity of it being fired runs the risk of your brain turning to jelly and oozing out. Find and destroy these weapons/ammunitions of mass destruction as much as you can. And don't make the mistake of underestimating its little brother- the .44- either.

Forget the crappy zombie movies you've seen where those dead things are sluggish and dumb. They don't know everything about us, and we don't know everything about them. Avoid getting shot, if possible. And remember, that infection is not your first priority. Kill, eat, and THEN infect failing the first two. You are as fast as a human being. You may be falling apart, but you still have legs, and hands, and a body. USE it! Go for the diaphragm, the hamstring, aim for the groin, the eyes, carpe jugulum! They are few, you are many. They have everything to lose, you don't. The world is your lawn. Go. Carry on, my undead sons. Bring me the world.

By SS Emil
Illustration: E.R. Ronny

It Just Won't Work

DUE to the Doctor being internationally renowned, He is flown to different parts of the world to give important and famous people advice, counseling, drugs and emotional support. There are some of these people who don't get to experience My divine intervention in their lives due to My intensely busy schedule. (An appointment with the Doctor needs to be taken at least three years in advance.) And since celebrities don't have anything even close to a 'personal' life, I have decided to dissect and give some of the advice in My regular column. I'm sure they won't mind Me bringing their personal lives under scrutiny. And even if they do, they love Me too much to tell Me anything about it. And RS, this will bring in a lot of publicity for you. You can thank me with a big fat cheque later.

1) Tomkat: Oh, Tommy, Tommy, Tommy. Why did you take that plunge? We all know you are still hiding in the closet, playing for your own team. But you pretend otherwise. It's a sad truth, really. Even after the farce, where you destroyed Oprah's couch beyond recognition, and was and will be ridiculed for years to come, we know your dirty little secret. C'mon, Mr. Cruise, it's the most open secret in all of Hollywood. Who are you trying to fool? And then you go on and masquerade a baby in front of us and tell us to believe it's yours. Take this advice from the Doctor: leave poor Katie (she has gotten enough publicity from the marriage, she won't need her terrible acting skills anymore to survive) and go be yourself. I hear Elton's available.

2) Brangelina: Ms. Jolie, I know you're feeling guilty over ruthlessly stealing Jenny's husband away on the set of Mr. and Mrs. Smith, but adopting every black child in Africa will do nothing to ease the guilt that is racking your heart and giving you sleepless nights. It seems like you're doing the right thing, the noble thing, but I assure you, that is not the case. Think of all the other kids who're left out. Who are you to decide who deserves multi-million dollar parents and a life of luxury? Think of the poor kids here, of Dhaka itself, where they have to do the Nokia N95 instead of the N97, with a Corolla G instead of a BMW and, worst of all, at least to me, an Xbox 360 instead of a PS3. In what cruel world is a child not allowed to play God of War 3? Do you have a clear enough conscience to answer that question? I think not. And until you do, your relationship will be shaky for as long as you are with Brad, despite how sexy he maybe.

And Mr. Pitt, your movies aren't as bad as your wife's or your ex-wife's. I shall spare you the judgment for now.

3) Oprah: You don't have to be the Great Doctor to know why you're so miserable. C'mon O, you're single. You have great assets, you're worth a few billion dollars, and most surprisingly of all, you're a woman, and you have power. I see no reason why you shouldn't be having some fun. You have helped countless superficial women with their body image, proving to the world again and again that it's all about how pretty we are; now let those same shallow women do something for you. You deserve it. I'm not telling you to get married or anything (even though you're fifty and it shows), just go out a little, live. You've written to me countless times, telling me how you want to kill Gabriel in her sleep because she's happy with her husband. That's no way to treat your best friend. Take a page off Ms. Jolie's page, steal her husband. Or if that seems too cruel to you, tell her to set you up. I assure you, you'll be much happier.

4) Lohan: Seriously, Lindsay. I know you're rich and famous but getting repeatedly getting into rehab and acting like you're an untanned version of Paris Hilton is no way to live your life. It has gotten you all the publicity you needed to get your career jumpstarted because, frankly, you needed it. It's hard to have a singing career without a voice and an acting career without talent and, initially, you made up for that with your publicity stunts quite well. You need to get back on the wagon, and stop fooling around with Samantha Ronson. Who the hell is that, anyways? A DJ? Pffft. As Eminem would say: “Samantha's a two, you're practically a ten.” I don't know if you're a ten, because frankly, Lady Lovelove is way more attractive than you are, but you should listen to my boy Em here. You deserve a better-looking partner. Not to mention, of the opposite gender.

5) Robsten: Pattinson and Stewart? Who'd have thought? Your problem is quite simple, all you have to… Nope. Can't do it. I know you're paying me a quarter of a million dollars just for even considering you, but Twilight's undeserving hype is too much for even the Doctor to sustain. But I can give you a bit of hope: of all the celebrities I have diagnosed today, you guys have the most chance of survival. After all, even idiots find their match.

Listen to the Doctor and listen good, My fellow lower-than-me compatriots. There's a reason I am deemed Great by many, rude by the broken-hearted, and poor by the jealous, it's because I'm always right. Follow me or else your relationships just won't work.

Problems, inquiries, endorsements and KMAs: dr.lovelove@live.com

By Dr. Lovelove

Fowl Play

WHEN we were wide-eyed children, still not particularly corrupted, when we were small enough to believe in djinns with webbed hooves, our parents made a point of trying to instil some level of patriotic love in us. In most cases, it was an extension of history class in the drawing room where your dad would point to his pictures on the wall and tell you war stories. In some cases, in an effort to connect you to your roots, to the heritage you came from, sometimes though, they would take a few extreme measures.

They would saddle you up and take you to your village home.
Villages in Bangladesh are nice, serene places. Cows mooing in their thatched goal ghars, chickens running around yards and ducks in the ponds. You actually get to see trees that are not stunted, trees that don't have a coating of dust on them so thick it's like someone gave the leaves a spray tan. Unfortunately for the city bred it can be daunting, going to a place where they stare at you because you can't manage to walk between paddy fields (for the record, it is hard walking along newly ploughed fields…).

Unfortunately, while the village may contain all the roots (the ones you eat and the ones you don't) that make your parents all misty eyed, they also contain animals that don't know you. And being the stupid five-year-old biped who isn't savvy to the ways of chickens that you are, your memories of those days are on a whole different level of embarrassing.

Ever had a duck look at you funny? Ever had a chicken give you the stink-eye? Ever had a goat give you that creepy, toothy smile? Sadly, this writer can't answer in the negative. Read on, and laugh at my expense.

Chickens: Chickens are vicious. They are. And they always, always, eyeball you. And then they quork derisively and eyeball you some more. One can't help but wonder, while staring at those beady black eyes, that the chicken would make a very good poker player. In his childhood, this writer, out of avian love, decided to play around with some chicks out on the yard. As we said before, the animals aren't familiar with you going all ga ga over their young. And being the vicious, vengeful, jealous creatures that chickens are, the mother chicken attacked without mercy. Suffice to say, the scars of that encounter made Chicken Little a very sour experience for this writer.

Ducks: Disney didn't know just how appropriate Donald was when he blew his top. Ducks are angry little critters. Especially that breed of ducks that we so lovingly refer to as raaj hash. Remember the pictures of the ugly duckling in those little hardcover Ladybird books? Raaj hash ducklings look something like that, except without feathers and not as cute. And today in the free advice section of this article, this writer will let you know in no uncertain terms, that poking around with ugly ducklings is one way to get mother ducky seriously pissed of at you. And because raaj hash are the gangsters of the duck pond they'll come at you en masse. Seriously, stay away from ducks that graze. Its freaky watching 'em eat grass.

Goats: Goats are depicted quite rightly in mythology, as the hoary, lecherous cloven-hoofed hairy critters they are. This writer has made it a habit to ignore reality and delve into books, no matter where he might be. He might be jostling around in a crowded bus but in actuality his mind might just be in the world of ASOIAF. Which is why he never noticed the goat sneak up on him when he was reading by the pond. A point that must be noted, goats will chew on anything. Like feet for example. Yes.

To be totally pwned by an animal, especially one that your forefathers domesticated is not only embarrassing, but also mentally scarring. Just ask this writer, to his day he can't look at a chicken without shuddering inwardly (it's the memory of chickens in the dark… and flying feathers).

By Tareq Adnan

The week in Re(ar)view

Aqua cars wanted
Bangladesh is soon to be inducted into the Guinness Book of World Records for taking up the longest time to finish constructing a bridge. That is if Bangladesh still exists by that time. A bridge on the Dhaleswari River of Tangail, taken up five years ago, will be completed after 490 more years. This is a calculation based on to the usual trusted 'Eeny, Meeny, Miney, Moe' method but simply because there is not enough funding. At Re(ar)view, we like to focus on the positive and that being the fact that the bridge will be completed, some day. Watch this space in 490 years.

A Daily Star analysis of this fiscal year's revised Annual Development Programme (ADP) revealed this gross anomaly in time, money and silliness.

Ramadan flavour
Ramadan is the month when things get sour for everyone. Prices go high, spittle goes flying and tempers go sour. To keep matters a little sweet, the cabinet committee on purchase approved import of 25,000 tonnes of sugar to keep the market stable during the month of Ramadan.

Price of sugar currently stands at Tk 40 to Tk 44 per kg. Imported at a cost of Tk 89.73 crore, sweetness should prevail as prices remain within reach. Of course, leopards have recently been shown to change their spots to a black shade. Before, the spots were dark black.

Weight loss
Biman is falling apart quite literally. Last week, part of a wing fell off. On May 9, another Biman had to drop its fuel mid-air to lose some weight. You may jump to conclusions that this is because people don't weigh their luggage (and themselves) more carefully before taking a trip. To be fair, we agree. Turns out, the plane developed pneumatic problems with the 'scienclookingthingie' and had to make an emergency landing at Shahjalal Airport (yeah, the one we knew as Zia International). Next we know, Biman will be dropping off its passengers. That is if it still has passengers.

The 800
Arches are gateways that rise in an arch and do nothing practical like turn into gun wielding robots or tasty edible architecture. No, arches are just there to look 'archy'.

800 of these non robotic, inedible arches were built along Dhaka-Rajshahi highway from Sirajganj to Rajshahi city to greet BNP Chairperson Khaleda Zia for a grand rally. We felt 800 was about 798 arches too many. And while we are talkng of too much, the costing for this stood at Tk 40 lakh. Bamboo arches adorned with fancy PVC printing gives the proverbial 'baash' to the people.

Tk 40 lakh would have fed us with pizza and burgers for…….we are still calculating how many years. In comparison, arches don't do anything whereas we serve the public with fresh news that is only a week old.

By Mood Dude and Someone





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