Author – Amiya Sadnam Chowdhury
Country Published – Bangladesh
Publisher – Shamabesh, Dhaka
ISBN – 9789848866214
Year of Publication – 2011
Bib. Info – 139p. ; 21cm.
Subject – 1. Fiction
Price – USD 18.00 (45 to 60 days)
Amiya Sadnam Chowdhury 101
Amiya Sadnam Chowdhury woke up exactly at 12:17 PM, on Friday, 13 January 2012, in his chilly room, hungry. He sat up and wrapped the blanket tightly around him as the wide-open window by his bed was trying to blow his skin off. He stretched his arm out from below the blanket and grabbed the little mouse lying in his bed. He jerked it a little, and the screensaver vanished, revealing his email account grinning at him. He squinted into the electronic brightness – and goodness gracious, someone wrote to him! It was about the Monsoon Letters website launch and they wanted to introduce him as a “new monsooner”!
They asked him to write a short paragraph about himself, “stating clearly” – why write in English; does writing in a foreign language bars your creativity; nurture writing as a passion etc “in your own words”, yes, that was what they said. Amiya Sadnam Chowdhury thought for a minute and walked towards his bookshelf. He pulled out an old book, The Bird Path by Kenneth White, opened page 95 slowly and read aloud: “the lack of reality/the reduction of spirit/is ugly and wearisome/the mind rots/language decays/under cypher and strident opinion/raised up as reason/the earth disappears/from the mind of the living/the real word is lost”. These lines would’ve been a good answer but he couldn’t use them; they said “your own words” and “state clearly”, he had had to be precise and political, and the only word he could think of right now was “breakfast”. He did write a novel once, in English; he shifted his tongue from his mother tongue to this other tongue because it emanates an exotic essence of profit and prestige, creativity didn’t really matter, grammar did, diction did. But he couldn’t write this, he couldn’t write that everyone around him believed writing was the only thing he was good at and insisted him to believe “you write, therefore you are”. It’s a job, an excruciating job; and passionate no doubt, it does pay, occasionally of course. He sat before his computer screen again, opened MS Word and tapped out, “Amiya Sadnam Chowdhury is a storyteller. That is his only introduction.”