Translated fiction: An anthology of short stories by Bengali Muslim writers

“The five pir saints of the river, Badar, Badar!”

The boatmen put up the sails of seven boats from the mahajan’s godown of garan wood at Shyamganj as soon as the tide ebbed in the river Hooghly. The mothers, sisters, wives, and daughters of thirty men stood wiping their eyes and kept gazing till the boats disappeared at the river bend of Naldanri.

Arjun Kayal was from the Sundarbans; solidly built, as if hewn from a rock. His eyes were round like marbles and bloodshot. He arrived three days ago to fetch the boats. He was the sedo, the guide to Sagar Island and the forests. His father, grandfather and great-grandfather – that is, all his forefathers – had spent their lives battling tigers, cultivating forests, acting as guides to the mangrove dealers, or guiding the boatmen of the main river. His great-grandfather was no mean robber. A convicted murderer, he had been sentenced to life at the beginning of British rule. The government had packed him off to the Sundarbans with a bunch of labourers sent to clear the forested islands by luring him with release. They did this with many others. Who would otherwise come here to give up their lives to...

Read more