When I read The Hippo Girl and other stories, a collection of 13 stories by Shah Tazrian Ashrafi, the first question that sprang up in my mind - Why so much violence? Violence, inside homes, on streets or both, is omnipresent in these grim stories. While at home, husband beats his wife for minor errors in household chores (Indira Road), thrashes his children to a purple pulp for failing to get good grades (A Blazing History of Rage, Queen Victoria), the violence on streets mostly trace its origin to the Bangladesh 1971 Liberation War. As we read the collection, we realize the deep imprint this war has left on the author's
storytelling, it even finds a place in the acknowledgements.
In the first story ‘Brother’, the Pakistan military burns down villages claiming its inhabitants are Indian spies. Sami describes the horrific living conditions in makeshift camps where the food he says feels like Satan himself has defecated inside the cooking pots. A dog gets a voice to describe the atrocities during this war in ‘My Human’. A sister loses her brother and caretaker to the violence in ‘Queen Victoria’, and a son his dear mother in ‘Indira Road’ to this war. Farah who lost her husband to the liberation war attempts to treat her maid, Naznin as a friend only to realize that Naznin's brother was a razakar who colluded with the Pak army.
In stories like Lucky, The Hippo Girl, Bilal, people who appear different or behave differently as they are afflicted by deep trauma/loss, are bullied and thrashed unto breaking point.
Ashrafi's characters are either extremely God fearing or super eager to embrace everything taboo. Many of his characters keep the Salah, perform ablutions carefully before each prayer which led me into thinking how religion alone couldn't unify the people of the West and East Pakistan. Ashrafi's fascination for hippos is evident as they figure in two stories here. They are seen as embodiment of evil brought into their lands by the Whites.
In exposing how inhuman we humans can get, the writing is raw and powerful. All things come to an end, but do they have to with such violence? is a question that nags me. On web sources, as story singles, Ashrafi would have left a finer impression on me, but with violence smothering everything underlying, again and again n this collection, it was hard to chew upon. I also noticed one or two errors (printing/editing) - they never mend their waves (instead of mend their ways) which left me a little suprised.
Rating 3.5*
(A copy of the book was provided by the publisher in return for an honest review)