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In search of love

Nahid Khan speaks of yearnings
MARC Ekta Prem Kahini Aachhe is a polynomial love story where some people never find true love. The protagonist, Eva, falls in love in the most right way possible, arranged by her parents. But after some usual ups and downs in the relationship, she finally discovers the betrayal. It would have been pretty straightforward if the story had just ended there. But she falls in love three more times, even with the first person for the second time. She loves another person who happens to be a lookalike of her first lover and finally with the other narrator of the story who she finds an open window and
feels alive telling her love story. Every time it is true from her side but the other side doesn't respond in the right way. This is pretty much the story in a nutshell, but the beauty of the novel is in its presentation, in its unprecedented manner of narration.
There are two narrators in the novel, Eva and the listener of the story. The chapters proceed like Eva's Story (Eva-r Kotha) and My Story (Amar Kotha). So all along the prose remains in the first person and is put together in such a clever way that to the end the reader will wait to see what follows next. Usually stories written in the first person somehow compel readers to believe the storyteller's innocence, thus subtly influencing their judgment. But this one is an exception where the purpose of those many punctual coffee breaks any time anywhere is made unambiguously clear. Just shows that the telling and listening have reached a climax as if the little vine has climbed to the top to find there is nothing to hold on to anymore. Very sad story but doesn't make you sob. It rather makes you think, makes you
long for something that could have been yours but has never been quite yours, whether a person or a possession or something that means a lot to you.
I am impressed by the ingredients used in telling the story. They are contemporary in nature and characteristics, showing how life has changed in the twenty first century. There is a vast use of so-called modern connectivity such as sms, chatting, facebook, skypes, so much so that no rational, awakened person can escape them. But, thankfully, such phenomena are not shown to be detrimental only. They show how the first betrayal is detected caught through the use of the facebook. It probably is a wake-up call for the young, informing them that these gadgets can become lifesavers if used sensibly.
The story continuously travels from Dhaka to Rhode Island and back almost effortlessly without any sharp break or bend. The two lives in these two towns are portrayed as picturesquely as imaginable. From rains in Dhaka to spring breeze on Rhode Island stirs readers' imaginations about the ambience. The simple sketches are farfetched, wonderful. In one word, they speak of life
being lived in simple beauty and that in brevity of affluence.
Mention of the colour combination of blue and green becoming popular is a new development in the matter of preferences. This is how people change, a norm changes, family values change. Discussions between parents and daughter are very different these days, a truth captured in the novel admirably. Also captured is some unpleasant dialogue between two friends. I wonder if the situation could have been avoided. Sometimes I like to pose a question, not necessarily criticize: Is it a writer's choice to present something that is crude and raw just to depict some mere happenings. Perhaps writers can actually modify that kind of language into some decent words without losing the sharpness of ugliness? I don't know. This is a dilemma I always dwell on even when reading Akhtaruzzaman Alias or Shahidul Zahir. To me literature is beautiful and it hurts to see when some crude words or gestures reduce its grace.
But I loved the openings of every chapter, made me stop to either hum a familiar tune or
recite a few lines of my favourite poetry. Those lines of songs and poetry were so gracefully chosen as to touch the heart, and for some time the verses persisted enduringly in mind. The events intermingled with those lines beautifully. The story stops at some stage. But Anisul Hoque entwines those verses into yearnings for years to come —mone ki didha rekhe gele choley.
Amaro Ekta Prem Kahini Aachhe is a literary musical, highly recommended for reading.
NAHID KHAN WRI TES POETRY AND FIGI ION AND IS WITH THE UNIVERSI TY OF MELBOURNE