After weeks of confusing behaviour, Dhaka’s weather has finally admitted it needs help. Sources confirm it has checked into therapy, saying it “can’t keep pretending everything’s normal” while switching between heatwaves and rainstorms like a confused soap opera character.

“I don’t know who I am anymore,” the weather reportedly told its therapist, Dr AT Mosphere, a retired raincloud.

“I can’t keep living like this. There were days, people could look at a calendar and know what to expect. Now I can’t even promise them a dry 20-minute rickshaw ride. I don’t know who I am anymore.”

According to Dr Mosphere, Dhaka’s weather is going through a serious identity crisis.

“It can’t decide if its summer, monsoon, or a midlife crisis in cloud form,” said the doctor. “The weather is feeling the pressure to be everything at once. Right now, it’s going through something we call ‘Bipolar Local Atmosphere Syndrome, Temporarily’ (BLAST)”

Dhaka residents, already used to chaos in traffic, politics, and public exams, have found themselves utterly defeated by the sky.

“I just want one weather. Any weather. I don’t even have to like it. I just want commitment.” said one university student. “This is why I have trust issues. I don’t know whether to pack sunscreen or a lifeboat.”

In the past few days, residents have been experiencing all four seasons before lunch.

“It was 40°C in the morning. Then it rained so hard I thought the sky was angry,” said a baffled office worker. “By the time I got to work, I was sunburnt, drenched, and somehow still sweating.”

The confusion reached new heights last Wednesday when the sun was shining, but it also rained heavily for 15 minutes while the temperature stayed at a solid 38°C. People stood still in the streets, unsure whether they were sunbathing or rain-bathing.

Weather apps have given up. One popular app now simply says “???” and shuts down. While another shows “We don’t know either, just look outside and guess.” while playing sad violin music.

Many Dhaka residents have resorted to carrying bags with fans, towels, umbrellas, sunglasses (with windscreen wipers), and dry clothes all at once.

“It’s like going to war,” said a woman waiting for a bus. “Except the enemy is above, and moody.”

Even animals are confused. Crows are just standing still on wires, looking at the sky like it owes them money. Cats have gone fully indoors. Street dogs have stopped chasing rickshaws and now just lie there, staring at nothing.

Mosquitoes, however, are doing great. “They love this chaos,” said a local. “It’s like an all-you-can-eat buffet.”

Meanwhile, Dhaka’s weather broke its silence and issued a short statement, carried by a confused breeze across Hatirjheel, “Please stop asking me what’s going on. I don’t know. I’m figuring it out. Kindly carry both an umbrella and a fan. And drink water.”

The therapy will continue for the next few weeks. In the meantime, Dr. Mosphere recommends people be patient.

“Give it some space. Let it cry, let it burn. Just don’t take it personally.”

A local poet summed it up best: “Dhaka’s weather is like an ex—unpredictable, moody, and somehow always showing up when you’re least prepared.”

As of now, forecast for Dhaka simply reads:

“Sunny with a chance of betrayal. Expect mood swings. Trust no cloud.”