In public space, presence is not neutral. It is negotiated, assigned, inherited. In the towns of Rangpur (Bangladesh), the street is a male territory, not by law, but by practice, by repetition, by the weight of what is considered natural. Men sit in doorways, wait beside their rickshaws, repair, trade, watch. They occupy the open air with ease, with stillness, with ownership.

Women move differently through the same space. Covered, contained, always in transit. They appear at the edge of the frame, inside a vehicle, crossing a street, never lingering. Their presence is real but provisional, tolerated rather than claimed. To photograph the street in Rangpur is to photograph a world that has quietly, systematically, organised itself around male visibility.

And yet women are there. Always present, but almost invisible.