Reading Time: 5 minutes ‘How is winter in the rural areas of Bangladesh? As I was thinking all this sitting in the air-conditioned room of a multi-story building, my mind went back to my childhood and summoned images of the shady courtyard of my village home. There, the smell of dried neem leaves comes out of the folds in winter. There, a wintry afternoon is all about burning green peas and smoking hot vapapitha (one kind of rice cake); the lunch and dinner menu is predominantly filled with gourd and fish curry; in a wintry evening, a flock of wild ducks flutters its wings in the still water. Rural winter speaks of a completely different world like poetry hemmed by fog and cold. When the winter comes As a child, I read a poem in a weekly magazine, written by Rafiqul Haque, better known as ‘Dadubhai’. In his poem he referred to winter as…