all Issue 5 — November 2024
The Commons: An Exhibition on the Vanishing Commons and the Claim
By Commons
They have a world to win.
— Marx, 1848
Is it too late to reclaim what’s been collectively lost to systems of ownership and control?
Are we—or they—simply too tired, too comfortable now?
The commons are shared spaces, resources, and traditions beyond private ownership—land, knowledge, water, and culture—foundations of collective life.
The commons once offered sanctuary, sustenance, and connection.
Today, urban development and the displacement of people and nature erode these spaces, dissolving our shared sense of care, belonging, and power.
Even the digital commons are increasingly networked against the will of the commoners.
The history of this accumulation by dispossession is etched on objects and faces, blowing in the polluted air of Dhaka.
This exhibition sees the struggle for the commons through archival documents, photographic studies, and objects.
Can you see the looming shadows of power and the forces that threaten our collective future?
In Indo-European languages, desh and lok convey two fundamental ideas: land and people. These words reflect peopled spaces—places animated by collective presence, expression, and ritual. Yet, as urban development intensifies, performative spaces shrink, and areas once vital to public participation are disappearing. Spaces for theater and ritual face erasure, reshaped by gentrification and capital.
This display of images reveals the aesthetic forms of these communal spaces and traditions now at risk. Folk performers, once central to cultural life, are often reduced to urban laborers, distanced from the arts that defined them. Yet the images also capture resilience: urban theater and acts of defiance that reclaim space and resist erasure, asserting the right to a shared world. This collection invites viewers to witness the strength of collective expression within these endangered spaces.
Photographs: Kamaluddin Kabir
The Tusk of Empiricism. Installation by Prokriti Shyamolima
Humboldt uncovered American mastodon (Mammut) fossils in the Andes and developed a correspondence with fellow enthusiast Thomas Jefferson, who saw the mastodon, then known as the “incognitum,” as a symbol of the Americas’ natural greatness and believed it still roamed the American West.
In 1801, artist Charles Wilson Peale excavated and reconstructed a nearly complete mastodon skeleton enhanced with papier-mâché tusks. When Humboldt visited the United States in 1804, he was honored with a dinner beneath Peale’s mastodon. In 1847, Peale’s mastodon was sold to Darmstadt, Germany, where it remained until it returned to its homeland in 2020 for the Smithsonian’s exhibition Alexander von Humboldt and the United States: Art, Nature, and Culture.
French naturalist George Cuvier’s research on the mastodon and mammoth, first published in 1806, was a breakthrough in the study of extinction, as he scientifically proved for the first time that an animal could become completely extinct.
Humboldt’s greatest takeaway from his expedition was his concept of a unified and interconnected natural world that was affected by geographic and physical conditions like altitude, location, and climate, most famously illustrated in his Naturgemälde, or Chimborazo Map, in 1807. He was the first Western scientist to theorize about the possibility of human-driven climate change, based on his observations of the destructive impact of colonial deforestation during his travels in South America. He is often called the “father of ecology.”
Birds In and Around Dhaka. Photographs by Labib Chowdhury
“Gulshan × Badda” – A study in class geography by nocapdhaka aka Aninda Rahman. The capitalist urban grid (and greed) spreads, consuming organic localities.
The hargila (Greater adjutant) bird gets its name from its scavenging eating habits, as it is able to swallow animal carcasses, including their bones. Their food habits and association with waste and garbage dumps have led to their historical stigmatization as unclean pests. Once regularly spotted throughout Bengal, including Dhaka and Kolkata, these birds are now endangered due to extensive loss of habitat. Now, their colonies can mainly be found in Assam.
Hargila Sculptor: Pradip Pal
Alexander von Humboldt (1769–1859) was a German naturalist and explorer and one of the most influential thinkers of the nineteenth century. He received authorization from the Spanish crown to explore and produce scientific documentation on the Spanish colonies of the Americas and traveled for five years through modern-day Venezuela, Cuba, Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, and Mexico.
He recorded and analyzed vast amounts of data on water bodies, mountains, mineral resources, plant and animal specimens, indigenous cultural heritage, and commercial activities. His publications unsettled many of the prevalent false impressions of the Americas, and his insights were crucial in the development of the colonial precious metal mining industry in Mexico and the sugar industry in Cuba.
Humboldt’s greatest takeaway from his expedition was his concept of a unified and interconnected natural world that was affected by geographic and physical conditions like altitude, location, and climate, most famously illustrated in his Naturgemälde, or Chimborazo Map, in 1807. He was the first Western scientist to theorize about the possibility of human-driven climate change, based on his observations of the destructive impact of colonial deforestation during his travels in South America. He is often called the “father of ecology.”
“Maps and Mines” by Prokriti Shyamolima
Assorted Plastic Items by Aninda Rahman. Found objects and QR code leading to web search on top plastic polluters of the world
The Gaze of the Landscape by Prokriti Shyamolima
Frederic Church’s 1859 painting The Heart of the Andes presents an idealized South American landscape, combining elements from Church’s own expedition through Ecuador and Colombia. Inspired by Alexander von Humboldt, Church meticulously documented the region’s wildlife and vegetation, incorporating these observations into the artwork. The painting captures diverse topographies, from glaciers and mountains to tropical forests and colonial settlements, all within a single composition.
When first exhibited in New York, The Heart of the Andes became a sensation, attracting over 12,000 viewers eager to examine the intricate details of the unfamiliar landscape, often with opera glasses. Church had wished for the painting to tour in Europe so that Humboldt, his inspiration, could view it, but Humboldt died in May 1859 before this could come to fruition
Church was part of the Hudson River School, a group of artists known for their romanticized landscapes that often conveyed nationalistic ideals of American grandeur.
Many, including Akwesasne Mohawk art historian Scott Manning Stevens and Cherokee painter Kay WalkingStick, have suggested that the Hudson River School’s landscapes reflect the principle of Manifest Destiny, which posited that white Christian American settlers were divinely ordained to expand westward, justifying the colonial dispossession of Indigenous peoples during this period.
The History of An Earthen Soul
My name is Nithur Hari Pal.
My home is the Rayer Bazar village of Dhaka district. My father’s name is Sri Banmali Pal, thana—Tejgaon, post office—Pilkhana.
Dhaka College and New Market had not been built in Dhaka yet. But there was the cow market in Mirpur, the airport at Tejgaon, and the famous cannon at Sadarghat. There was a field at Ramna. To the east of our Rayer Bazar village were the green paddy fields of Dhanmondi. There was a British era paved road through the paddy field. People called it “Hatir Rasta” (Elephant Road). Then this road came to be known as Satmasjid Road. To the west of this long road were the villages of Jhigatola, Eidgah, Jafrabad, and Modhurbajar. After that, there was a vast area of greenery. Then there was my birthplace—Rayer Bazar village.
Rayer Bazar village was one and a half miles from north to south, and one mile from east to west. Five miles to the west, a canal from the Buriganga was excavated to create a river path for the village. Large boats would travel here. 95 percent of the villages were Kumbhakars. Their clay containers would travel to different parts of Bengal by boat. There was a time when the clay pot business could not function without containers from Rayer Bazar. This area had its own local business model, which the other Kumbhakars could not replicate. Every day, hundreds of thousands of pots were made.
They had their own organization called the “Pal Samiti Godi”. The Godi used to facilitate all earthenware sales, so no one had to go to any market. Wholesalers would bring boats to buy goods with the Godi’s assistance. The Godi had their own brokers who kept track of the goods in each factory and helped the wholesalers with different types of assistance. Customers did not have to pay charges for the broker, as this was covered by the Godi. The earnings of the Godi were used to operate a temple, a mosque and a primary school. There were arrangements for wholesalers to spend the night in the temple and the mosque. The Godi was authorized by the government. The overseers of the Godi would be Pals. There would be an election every five years. Before Partition, there were eight thousand voters. Marriages would take place within the families of this village. The Pals of this village are not Bangal. During the reign of Jahangir, they came from Rajmahal to live and work on thirty acres of land provided by Bangabinod Ray.
In our village our community had a market day each Saturday. On that day the pottery wheel (used to create the mouths of pots) of all the houses would stay still. The owner would decide how much each individual would produce on that day. By five or six in the afternoon production would be completed, and for more skilled workers the work day would end by three or four. Then, till nine at night there would be Hari Kirtan, scripture readings, and theater rehearsals. Besides that, there would be holidays for all of the month of Baishakh, ten days of Durga Puja, Kali Puja, Janmasthami, two days of Dol Purnima, and Joishtho, Poush and Chaitra Sankranti.
The lion’s share of the villagers were Kumbhakars. Though there were many wealthy villagers, there was little interest in formal schooling. From a very young age, children entered the earthenware business. There was great demand for all ages from children to the elderly. Nobody considered moving to agriculture or any other industry. There were poorer artists among the Kumbhakars as well. They were artisans who labored under large workshops. They were known as Karigars. One family made up one Karigar. The owners would provide rent-free housing next to the workshops. When a pot was sold, half the returns would go to the owner, and half to the Karigar. I was born in such a Karigar family in the middle of December 1939. My father’s name was Banmali Pal. My mother was Harisundari Pal. My grandfather was Girishchandra Pal. My grandfather came from a family of three brothers, Jagathari Pal, Girishchandra Pal and Praneshwar Pal. Their father’s name was Ramlal Pal. Ramlal Pal owned almost 7200 square feet of land. There were earthenware workshops across this whole land. This work requires a lot of land and large buildings. The land, straw, and wood have to be prepared before the monsoon.
Research, Photography, and Story by Kamrul Hasan Mithon
Fragrances are carriers of memories. A space or a time could be forever etched in your psyche through a particular scent. Therefore, enabling the individual to travel through time and marking their initiation to history. Think about someone who wanted people to have that experience and Madhumita Cinema Hall did that. A certain perfume has been used in the Madhumita Cinema hall in Dhaka for more than half a century now. The proprietor of this particular brand of perfume named “Phool Chaman” is the Ottis Perfume House. Situated on the 6 Mitford Road the perfumery was established in 1945 by a Madrasi named KP Mohammed and now run by his grandsons.
Can You Smell the Cinema by Nazia Afrin
The iconic Boudhanath Stupa in Kathmandu is one of the greatest spherical Buddhist stupas in Nepal. The white spherical dome, called the Kumbha, represents the element of water and is the symbolic outermost container for the holy relics hosted inside the Stupa, which reside in multi-layered boxes of gold, silver and bronze.
A potter who works with clay is called kumar in Bangla, which translates to kumbhakar in Sanskrit. A kumbha is a pot, usually holding water or other liquid, and often used for ritual purposed in the Subcontinent.
Boudhanath Stupa Paining by Prokriti Shyamolima. Tandoor by Ranajit Pal
Fragments of Solace by Riyan Sobhan Talha and Nazia Afrin
No one returns empty handed—that’s the reigning philosophy of Majars in this part of the world. As we roam through the concrete jungle of Dhaka, we find spaces marked by shades of green, blue white and occasional red. Signs and symbols associated with prayers and blessings, peace, harmony and acceptance for all. Acceptance is a choppy word nowadays, as we are drifting more apart from the communal core of our existence. In the fragmented reality, we are never whole and yet there lies a space, a fissure through the symbolic order where time remains untouched. The shrine is not only a reminder of death but life that keeps flowing around us. People and spaces are eternally aligned and can not be separated. Everyone is welcome and no one returns empty handed.
Chinir Saaj is a dry, hard sweet made of white sugar. The intricate designs are created by pouring sugar syrup into wooden frames or molds (chaanch). The sweets presented here feature a variety of molded shapes, including elephant, rooster, peacock, fish, boat, lotus, mango, and vegetal motifs. Chinir Saaj has a long history of ancestral practice among sweetmakers in the northern regions, and it was once widely in demand throughout the country. Today, however, in the face of competition from commercially produced sweets and chocolates, the industry is declining as artisans shift to other trades.
Gross Domestic Violence (GBV) by Aninda Rahman
List of Moujas by Aninda Rahman
Auxiliary Further Talk — A Kaleidoscope Essay
Nafees Sabur
In villages, uneducated farmers roll in the mud, attempt to climb oil-slicked bamboo poles, and engage in various rustic games. There’s a peculiar satisfaction in watching these recordings and edits of rural activities while sitting in a tiled room. This kind of physical activity is part of village life, while urban dwellers, especially those from the capital and other city minded educated circles, indulge in thirty-second quizzes and riddle competitions during their strolls in shopping malls or parks. In the magazine program *Shubhechchha*, elite or middle-class participants might face a penalty, like sliding into a pool of water. Here, there’s perhaps a visual enjoyment in making villagers perform thesegames. Since urban areas lack space and mobility for such activities, city people likely prefer mental games and quizzes instead. Though one can still find “target-shooting” games in parks, such as shooting balloons with a gun or throwing balls to win an energy drink bottle for a fee.
In neighboring India, especially in the Bengali society of Kolkata, a certain cultural “Dadagiri” (big brotherly attitude) is evident. *Dadagiri Unlimited*, a TV program broadcast on a private Indian channel, also embodies this attitude. Here, local participants represent different districts and compete on the stage of Dadagiri, answering questions with quick wit. It’s as if Kolkata itself, the big brother, is challenging other districts with the phrase “Bapi Bari Ja” (Go Home), after a friendly rivalry on stage.
Their version of ‘Didi No. 1’ also involves some physical activities for participants, with prizes like blenders and pressure cookers. Here, one might recall French intellectual Simone de Beauvoir’s ‘The Second Sex’ and perhaps delve into some Freudian analysis.
In this golden age of audiovisual social media, many of us are content creators or entertainers in some capacity.People in villages are becoming entertainers and content creators, as are people in small towns, though each with distinct content types. Larger city content creators, influencers, and entertainers create content of their own type, highlighting a unique intersection of social class and geopolitics.
For example, villagers might cook bulk meals in large pots, while city explorers hunt for dining spots, pointing their cameras at food items and rating them. Traditional food habits are “discovered” and “violated” by outsiders. Lower middle-class or middle-class female content creators are contributing to the monetization of daily life vlogging, including breakfast preparation and laundry routines. TikTok is a fascinating platform—some people enjoy this content as “guilty pleasure” while claiming it’s “not for the mind.”
The capital’s street-food vendors and divisional city’s CNG drivers are gradually emerging as content creators. Their online personas and content carry archetypes likely influenced by South Asian or Indian subcontinent trends. In a similar way, content creators in Pakistan, India, and Bangladesh share content styles reflecting similar lifestyles and political realities, regardless of national borders. Algorithms may suggest what type of content is popular, setting standards for which themes or activities to feature for broader appeal.
Cultural hegemony is also a reality. Youth vloggers from districts are often under the influence of established influencers from Dhaka, Chittagong, or other major cities. Despite social class distinctions, YouTubers can now earn through ad revenue, possibly even achieving the symbolic “play button.” This phenomenon raises questions: is revenue potential equal for everyone, as the constitution suggests equality before the law? Are traditional class structures changing because of platforms like YouTube?
However, to make quality content, good video cameras, phones, sound recorders, editing tools, and lighting are essential. Those already equipped have an advantage, and while the market pretends to offer equal earning opportunities, it remains silent on the question of equity.
The social media trend of lifestyle and personal vlogging has allowed anyone to package and monetize personal and social activities, producing visual commentaries on various aspects of life, from cooking recipes to travel. This “anyone can show anything” approach has opened new opportunities for value creation in social media.
Live streaming and mukbang have even turned into lucrative professions. Now anyone can become a content creator, shifting the old power dynamics of TV centric media relationships. Figures like Hero Alom are as much content creators as those like Shaikh Siraj, who have been co-opted by major capital interests. We cannot ignore the influences of globalization, imperialism, and free-market economics. Even religious leaders have adapted well to the social media trend.
Platforms like YouTube, Facebook, Instagram, and TikTok have the power to make any creator, regardless of their location or social class, go viral, reaching global audiences and transforming them into visible characters. This phenomenon raises a compelling question about authenticity, reality, and virtual representation, creating a fascinating yet unsettling blend of existence and unease.
Public “commons” and communal spaces are also governed by social class, ownership, and authority. These control mechanisms extend from market economics to authoritarian governance. Terms like “public property,” “open to the public,” “entry restricted,” and signs indicating territorial claims subtly remind us of who holds ownership and authority over public spaces.
This shift is visible in the way urbanization expands over paddy fields and low-lying lands, and how urban-centered lifestyles impact food habits. Rice-heavy meals are being replaced by faster, calorie-efficient food items. Although not necessarily healthy, quick fixes are essential. Maggi noodles cook in two minutes. Those with spare cash seek out new culinary experiences and imported gadgets, like grills for searing mouth-watering proteins, adding an industrial touch to our traditional cooking.
YouTube and Facebook have altered the dynamics of the traditional TV-radio-based audience-media relationship, and machinery accessibility is influencing changes in the food market as well. For example, the bakery industry is evolving, with imported ovens enabling mass production of bakarkhani, and traditional fast foods descending to street food level. Food habits are changing across the board to keep pace with the economy.
Urban middle-class dining is also changing—eating biryani or tehari in restaurants is now more affordable than rice and fish. YouTube recipes are teaching traditional cooking, along with foreign recipes for those curious about international dishes. Homemade “restaurant-style” dishes like pizza and tiramisu are being mastered, while restaurants try to sell “home-cooked flavors.” Cross-regional foods are also gaining popularity in cities, facilitated by food delivery services.
Localities are being erased as cities rise, new maps are drawn, and new names are established. Displaced communities survive in corners, selling duck meat or bidi cigarettes.
As social media reshapes audience and creator dynamics, even “commons” spaces and food habits are evolving to match the demands of entertainment and consumption in the digital age.
Monohor Hature
Excerpted from Haor Jonopod er Gitirongo
A folk-doctor based in Babar Majar located in Netrokona-Kendua highway of Bangladesh, tries to persuade his potential customers through a strange amalgamation of the tradition, history and the usefulness of his prescribed medicines which are at once cure for fever, joint pains, headaches, stomach aches and erectile dysfunctions. His speech runs for an hour, without any break, almost as if it’s a finely tuned, practiced and well-rehearsed performance. The verbatim transcription of which was reproduced from Kamaluddin Kabir’s book in a booklet and was offered as a gift to the visitors of the exhibition.
Shutter Mistree by Farhana Sarwar and Aninda Rahman
De Gute, Richard Peter, from the photobook Dresden, eine Kamera klagt an (“Dresden, a camera accuses”), 1949.
Dresden, the capital of the German state of Saxony, was historically known to European tourists as “Florence on the Elbe” for its beautiful Baroque and Rococo architecture and cultural heritage. During World War II, many refugees took shelter in Dresden, and the locals remained confident that the city would remain safe from attack due to its cultural prestige. However, during the bombing of Dresden in February 1945, four air raids by British and American forces killed up to 25,000 civilians and destroyed more than 1,600 acres of the city center, including historic landmarks such as the now-rebuilt iconic Frauenkirche.
In the Cold War era under Soviet rule in East Germany, Dresden was primarily a site of rebuilding and industrialization, with many of the ruins of the bombing being left in their ruined states as a memorial to the war. The “rubble women” of Germany emerged as a propagandic symbol of post-war rebuilding and hope, though the working-class people living and working among the ruins struggled to make ends meet in the harsh economic conditions and continued to search for their missing loved ones.
“Dresdens” by Bushra Islam Labonno
YOU ARE HERE
Umme Abiha Saima; Archival Research: Nazia Afrin and Aninda Rahman
You are standing on the ground, on layers of history—each layer shaped by transformation, displacement, and memory. The very ground beneath you, once Bhola-Samair and now Gulshan, holds echoes of those who lived, worked, and shaped this land before urbanization took root. Unlike places where history is visibly preserved through architecture or legacy, here, names are the sole markers of the past. Are you aware of the histories erased and communities displaced to create the cityscape underfoot? This work asks you to confront the question: Where do you stand now?
Mouza Map
Mouza (also spelled Mauza or Mouja) is a term used to define a specific land area where one or more settlements may or may not exist. Before the 20th century, this term referred to a revenue collection unit in Bangladesh, India, and Pakistan. The mouza system in the Indian Subcontinent is similar to the manorial system in Europe. The head of a mouza was styled as Mustajir, Pradhan, or Mulraiyat, equivalent to the Lord of the Manor in the manorial system. As populations increased and villages became more common and developed, the concept of the mouza became more synonymous with gram (village). Over time, urbanization fragmented the mouza, shifting it from a community-based agricultural society to a private and industrialized one. This transformation also reshaped the landscape—vacant lands, forestry, and wildlife gradually disappeared. To understand Dhaka as a city and how it has emerged, one must first understand the idea of the mouza.
Dacca Town in 1980
The map of Dhaka in the 1850s portrays the spatial layout of the city, which was then considered a town due to its size and population. The labels and boundaries offer insight into the town’s structure, highlighting important community spaces, recreational areas, and natural features like the Buriganga River. Built-Up Areas are represented with solid, dense shading, indicating concentrated urban structures. Partially Built-Up Areas have a lighter, spaced shading pattern, signifying some development but not full urbanization. Vacant Areas are shown with even lighter shading or none at all, representing undeveloped or open land. Compared to its current state, Dhaka in the 1850s had significant open land and was barely urbanized. Thus, authorities identified it as a town rather than a city.
Dacca City in 1960
As the map portrays, Dhaka underwent a drastic transformation from a town to a city, and people began referring to it as Dhaka instead of Dacca. This map represents the geographical layout of urban expansion and construction over time. The shading patterns indicate different phases of development: dense vertical lines represent areas developed up to 1830, diagonal crosshatching marks areas developed up to 1951, and sparse diagonal lines show areas developed up to 1962.
By this time, Dhaka was evolving into a fully developed city. The vacant spaces visible in the 1850 map had nearly disappeared, and the city’s extent had expanded significantly. Prominent areas such as Lalbagh, Motijheel, and Sadarghat were labeled, marking key locations within the city. Where you stand now—Gulshan 2—was previously known as Bhola Gram and had not yet become part of Dhaka. Railways were under construction, and while roads were not explicitly outlined on the map, the positioning of the railway system offers insight into connectivity during 1962.
Generalized Land Use: Dacca City in 1975
This map reflects the post-Pakistan era, just after the birth of Bangladesh in 1971. It illustrates how land use was organized in Dhaka as the newly independent nation began shaping its capital.
The solid orange fill with cross-hatching marks the Central Business District (CBD), the city’s commercial core. This area had a high population density due to economic activities centered around trade, finance, and corporate establishments. The plain orange shading represents areas designated for other commercial activities, including retail shops, wholesale markets, and small businesses. These commercial zones supported the CBD’s economy while being distributed across different parts of the city to meet neighborhood-level needs.
The industrial area, dedicated to manufacturing, warehousing, and both heavy and light industries, is indicated by diagonal lines with an orange fill. Thin horizontal lines highlight zones allocated for government buildings, police headquarters, educational institutions, hospitals, and research facilities.
The map also uses dots to indicate open spaces, including parks, playgrounds, vacant lands, and graveyards. Additionally, white spaces, often with organic outlines, represent natural water bodies, marking the rivers, lakes, and wetlands that shaped the city’s landscape.
Indicated by diagonal lines, low-class residential areas are typically lower-income housing zones, often located near industrial or commercial districts where many residents might be employed. These neighborhoods generally have higher population densities and lower land costs, making them susceptible to displacement as urban expansion continues.
The plain shaded area without additional patterns refers to middle-class residential zones, which represent moderate-income housing areas. These are usually situated at a moderate distance from industrial and business districts, allowing residents access to urban amenities while providing a more balanced living environment.
High-class residential areas are marked with denser shading and darker patterns. These neighborhoods are the most affluent, often featuring larger houses, more green space, and better amenities. They are located further from industrial zones to ensure a cleaner and quieter environment.
Finally, the dense horizontal hatching indicates non-urban areas, often consisting of agricultural land, wetlands, or forested regions. As the city expands, these zones may be absorbed into urban areas for residential development or other urban functions.
The area of Bhola Gram, officially notarized in documents as Bhola-Samair (then Bhola, now Gulshan 1; then Samair, now Gulshan 2), was renamed after the Gulshan area in Karachi. The land was evicted and reorganized to accommodate elite bureaucrats. According to historical records, the village was acquired during the Pakistani era, and in 1961, a planned residential area was established there by the first chairman of the Dhaka Improvement Trust (DIT), Pakistani bureaucrat G.A. Madani.
Upon examining the map’s upper-right corner, the area of Gulshan appears as a space occupied by the elite. Directly beside Gulshan, a proportionately much larger non-urban land can be seen, with a significantly smaller lower-class population. Separated by the waterbody, the stark juxtaposition between these two areas becomes evident to the naked eye.
Art-Culture in Rickshaw Seats by Yusuf Nabi
Littera Magazine — Issue 5 — Stall
