In a world of uneasy choices

Born in Dhaka, Mahmud Rahman came of age during the creation of Bangladesh...

During the 1971 war, he was a refugee in Calcutta. In his adult life, he has lived in several US cities. His fiction and non-fiction have been published in magazines and anthologies in the US, Britain, Pakistan, India and Bangladesh. He also translates Bangla fiction. In this interview, he speaks about his new collection of short stories, Killing The Water (Penguin). Excerpts from an interview:

When did you begin writing?

I wrote all along, ever since my schooldays. But I took up narrative prose only in the mid 90s. 

How did major upheavals in your life affect you as a writer?
In the earlier years, there was great upheaval around and inside me. In my 20s, after the war and subsequent disappointment with the way things turned out in independent Bangladesh, I was an angry young man. I revisited some of those times while writing my stories through both the filter of time and what I’d like to believe is a greater thoughtfulness. I strive to reflect complexity. Fiction can’t provide answers, but it can convey a sense of people living in worlds of uneasy choices.

Where do you find inspiration?
First, in fragments from memory. The title story ‘Killing the Water’ plays with myth-making from events in my childhood. Second, I enjoy drawing out people to share stories. ‘City Shoes in the Village’ came from an anecdote my father told me. While living in Calcutta in the 30s, he had built a motorboat and navigated it to his home in Chandpur. I tried to imagine what might have happened when someone like him without close links with either his village home or his relatives returned home — in order to get a sense of his alienation. This story also drew in emotions and reactions I myself felt when I first returned home to Dhaka after 10 years in the US. Third, I tend to take mental snapshots and retain striking images. The story ‘Yuralda’ emerged from an image of a woman I saw once on a dance floor, swaying by herself, dismissing all who approached her.

What have been your best and worst experiences as a writer?
It’s wonderful when a reader “gets” the story you meant to tell; when reading the story surprises and awes. I also feel delighted when a story comes together. Worst experiences? A work that refused to come together, one that defeated me.

Full interview here Deccan Herald

War stories

The 1971 war plays a major part in shaping Bangladeshi literature, Mahmud Rahman tells Premankur Biswas

The ghost of the 1971 war looms large over Bangladeshi literature, concedes Dhaka-born writer Mahmud Rahman. In fact, most of the stories of his short story compilation, Killing the Water, launched in Kolkata on Friday, March 6, refer to the war in some way or the other.

“One of my stories talks about a General of the war who retires and settles down in America. Another one is about a second-generation refugee in America. We cannot help but talk about the consequences of the war. It is the single-most important event in our history and has shaped the way we are,” says Rahman who is in Kolkata for the launch.

When Rahman was born, Bangladesh was still East Pakistan. It was during his formative years, in the late 1960s, when the nation was in turmoil.

Full report here Indian Express

Insightful tales

With first-hand experience of war and displacement, Mahmud Rahman weaves together a beautiful set of stories.

From being a witness to a bloody war that led to the creation of Bangladesh in 1971 to being a Third World migrant in the United States, Mahmud Rahman has had first-hand experience of what is called “the effects of war, migration and displacement.” This is why he is successful in weaving all those experiences together in the beautiful and illuminating set of stories for his debut collection.
Killing The Water starts off on an auspicious note. The opening story, “City Shoes in the Village”, is set in undivided India of the 1930s and tells the story of Altaf who returns to his impoverished village in eastern Bengal to see his family after living in Calcutta for many years.
Altaf is remorseful for shying away from his duties as an eldest son, and the author portrays his guilt-stricken conscience and dilemma with lucidity.
The best story is “Kerosene”. Set against the backdrop of the 1971 war and told from a Bangladeshi nationalist's point of view, it exposes the chilling horrors of war and shows how even a non-violent and mild-mannered society can lose its sanity during great socio-political upheaval.
In the first paragraph, women and small children, all post-Partition refugees from India, are burnt alive by a Bengali mob.
This scene is a powerful reminder of the fact that equations between two social groups change drastically with time and circumstances.

Full report here The Hindu