For here, in this development wasteland, rivers don’t live; they merely exist. They exist as relics of their halcyon days when rivers were truly wild, mysterious, free – or as a side character in their own story, as told through poetry and music. They exist in inherited nostalgia.
In ‘Smart Bangladesh,’ how smart is it to kill our rivers? As if in vengeance we have been ferociously and relentlessly destroying our rivers in, what can only be termed as, a suicidal streak.
In ‘Smart Bangladesh,’ how smart is it to kill our rivers? As if in vengeance we have been ferociously and relentlessly destroying our rivers in, what can only be termed as, a suicidal streak.