‘Riverside Stories’: This book of writings from Assam gives space to marginalised voices and themes

Given the sheer volume of writing published in Assam, in Assamese, Bodo and English, it may seem somewhat surprising that Riverside Stories: Writings from Assam is only the sixth in the series of literatures from India’s North-Eastern states published by Zubaan. Writings from the state, in English or translation, have received a fair share of attention in recent times, and one can recall at least a couple of excellent collections of short stories from Assam being published in the last couple of years.

However, this offering is like no other one has read recently, and offers a great diversity of writings in a wide range of genres, ranging from the more conventional such as the short story to more contemporary ones such as graphic narratives and wonderful reproductions of art and illustrations. Thematically, given the centrality of identity politics in Assam, the issue of identity duly finds resonance in this collection as well. But where it surpasses most collections is in how effectively the diversity of the Assamese people and their voices find expression in this volume. This collection does not write about representation – it is representative, and the subaltern speaks fluently and powerfully.

Walking the talk

In the introduction, the editor writes how, all this time, it was people from privileged backgrounds, who had access to writing – and, more importantly, to publishing resources – whose work not only saw the light of the day but also determined the narrative of what comprised Assamese writing. But a conscious attempt by the editor to give space to voices from marginalised spaces greatly ensures that her hopes to “derange that comfortable status quo” are successfully and competently realised. Such an endeavour is significant because the collection then accurately reflects the kind of writing emerging in Assam that is subversive, radical and modernist in both style and content – and finds regular expression owing to the thriving culture of Assamese literary journals.

One of the predominant themes the collection explores is that of gendered identity, and how it plays out in myriad ways in ordinary women’s and trans people’s lives. Gender as performance, gender as a construct that binds and blinds is repeatedly evoked in poems such as “Better Being a Scarecrow”, or in stories such as “Tiposi Meets the Queen” in which a young Tiposi grappling with their sexuality finds a secret-sharer in the Queen who straddles the twin world of being the much desired and glamorous queen and their alter-ego, the ordinary Hema. Stories like “My Marriage That Could Not Be Arranged,” offer a glimpse of the “Assamese middle-class marriage market” but with an irreverent tone reminiscent of Eunice de Souza.

Politics of identity

Identity explorations in Assam, historically, and especially since the introduction of the NRC, have often been intertwined with issues pertaining to religious identity. While Assam is no stranger to language wars and communal conflicts triggered by truths and half-truths about illegal immigrants, the everyday slights and instances of othering wore a mask of civility till some time back. But the changed political climate has allowed the surfacing of deep-rooted prejudices and hostilities, and this is very well reflected in Riverside Stories.

The entry and normalisation of phrases like “legacy data”, which determine one’s status as an Indian citizen in Assam, are poignantly evoked in stories such as “The Red File.” The heartbreaking reality of such othering is reiterated in prosaic terms in a short essay titled “Being Axomiya, Muslim, and a Woman.” In fact, one of my favourites from the collection, Deepika Chetri’s poem “Roots,” captures the multitude of identities that jostle for space in one individual, and the impossibility of speaking about identity in the singular, thus truly reflecting the multiplicities that encompass the Assamese identity.

Of late, writings from Assam have witnessed an increasing awareness and consequent expression of LGBTQ issues and disruptive sexualities, a growth that can be measured by blogs, activist groups and magazines dedicated to the cause. This significant movement is acknowledged and finds its rightful space in not just stories such as the earlier mentioned “Tiposi Meets the Queen,” but also stories such as “Shyla”, which traces the coming out of a young Mythri as an aromantic and asexual individual.

The collection not only gives voice to a range of sexualities but also the everyday challenges negotiated by those who inhabit identities and bodies outside the normative such as that of the “Menstruating Man” whose battles range from going to a shop to buy a sanitary pad to dealing with gender dysphoria. These are challenges compounded by the unavailability of a language in which to articulate them or the availability of one that is so deeply gendered that it hinders the expression of that which lies outside its rules of grammar; a challenge that is articulated in the aptly titled “Taar/Tair.”

The Big B

What has remained constant in the life of an Axomiya and continues to shape and reshape their lives, their homes, their very existence, is the ever-present threat of the annual floods. While the Brahmaputra nourishes and nurtures, it batters and destroys lives and livelihoods with unfailing regularity and thus the wrath of the river and the havoc it causes inevitably ebbs and flows through many of the writings of this collection. In poems such as “The Boat that Saved My Mother,” or the story of “Manowara’s Library” or in the recording of Pungbili’s life and times; the many moods of the floods, their impact, as well as acts of resistance and survival are evoked in poignant ways. Often in these stories, what particularly stands out is the heroism of the individual fighting both nature and a system indifferent to its tribulations.

Thus, Riverside Stories offers an eclectic mix of writings from Assam and offers a glimpse of writings from the region that reverberate with the tunes of contemporary issues, styles and voices. The collection is invaluable in making voices that are rarely heard beyond the pages of niche literary journals available to a much wider reading public. However, one must also caution that the selection does not give a glimpse into a wider and richer corpus of writings from Assam but only those from a very carefully chosen perspective. As the editor clearly states, the writings offer an intersectional feminist perspective alongside that of trans people from Assam, and that very conflation of perspectives may perhaps come across as a problematic one.

The collection does not offer writings from established Assamese greats, but makes space for new and unheard voices. While one may interpret such a selection, therefore, as a more radically political one, that is not necessarily true, because anybody who has read the stories of Lakhminath Bezbaroa, Syed Abdul Malik or Indira Goswami would know that writing from Assam has always been in this mould – socially realistic, politically sensitive, and focused on the oppressed of the earth. In fact, if there is one little niggling feeling one is left with, it is the wish for way more stories and poems and tales of resistance from life.

Riverside Stories: Writings from Assam, edited by Banamallika, Zubaan Books.