The landscape of Indian literature is vast and varied, but within its regional expressions, certain narratives have long remained in the shadows. Jintu Gitartha’s edited volume stands as a deliberate and luminous act of bringing such narratives into the light. This significant collection assembles ten Assamese short stories translated into English and originally penned between 1998 and mid-2022. Far from being a mere thematic compilation, this anthology performs a dual function: it is both a literary milestone and a profound cultural testimony. It asserts the indispensable presence of queer voices in capturing the complete human spectrum of Assamese—and by extension, Indian—society translating intimate lives and regional specificities into a universal dialogue about love, identity, and freedom.
The trend of constructing queer narratives in Assamese short stories began in the late 1990s. The beginning of queer-sensitive storytelling arguably starts only with Gobinda Prasad Sharma’s ‘Sowali Hostelet Egaraki Lesbian’. This anthology builds upon that nascent tradition, following the first such collection Nirbachita Asamiya Queer Galpa (2022). Gitartha’s editorial vision is clear and necessary: ‘If literature is a reflection of society, then today’s literature must also reflect the essence of queer life (p. 7).’ The selected stories fulfill this mandate with artistic integrity and emotional depth, moving beyond simple representation to explore the complex ecosystems in which queer lives are lived, contested, and cherished.
The anthology opens with explorations of identity that challenge foundational social constructs. Moushumi Kandali’s ‘A Tale of Thirdness’ (translated by Atreyee Gohain) is a study of gender transcendence. Its protagonist, a professor and dancer, embodies a femininity and yearning for motherhood that exist independently of biological sex. Kandali, through lyrical and metaphorical prose—comparing the scent of a kitchen to longing, or a carved serpent swallowing its tail to cyclical rebirth—dissolves the rigid link between gender and social role. The character’s desire to ‘mother’ the medieval saint-poet Akka Mahadevi and his ultimate adoption of an orphaned girl becomes a radical act of creation. The story posits that ‘motherhood is only a concept… One does not require a womb to be a mother—all one needs is a womb of sensitivity and emotion’ (p. 27). This narrative triumphantly questions the very architecture of gender and kinship.
Similarly, Geetali Borah’s ‘The Winter Terns’ (translated by Dhrijyoti Kalita) delivers a visceral portrait of societal rejection and internal conflict. Radheshyam, who envisions himself as ‘Radha’ is deemed to be a burden by his own family, who wish for his death to end their suffering. Borah meticulously charts his painful journey: a fragile, loving connection with Yuvaraj that ends in betrayal, the collapse of his sister’s marriage prospects because of him, and his fight for a third-gender community in Delhi. His return, ‘a disgrace upon the world of man and woman’ (p. 49) is a devastating commentary on the cost of forced assimilation. The story bookends the image of an indifferent society, mirrored in the opening scene of a beggar’s corpse, connecting Radheshyam’s marginalized existence to other forms of social abandonment, all under the watchful, lonely flight of a tern.
The collection also adeptly situates queer experiences within broader historical and social matrices. Dibyajyoti Bora’s ‘Mrs. Miller by the Shore’ (translated by Syeda Shahin Zinat Suhaili) cleverly uses the colonial tea garden setting to explore loneliness and connection across boundaries of race and class. Mrs. Miller’s isolation in a patriarchal marriage finds solace in her sincere relationship with Sonia, a local worker. The story subtly hints at the queer possibilities within this bond while shedding light on the often-overlooked personal lives of the colonial planters. In a different vein, Partha Bijoy Dutta’s ‘Colours of Pinwheels’ (translated by Kristi Mazumdar) traces the genesis of queer consciousness from childhood bullying to political awakening. The protagonist Swapnil’s moment of self-recognition—upon witnessing the secret intimacy of two male labourers—is rendered with poignant clarity: ‘It was an astonishing evening that had turned out to be the key to a locked room inside him’ (p. 65). His friend Nasiketa’s declaration that their fight is ‘to atone for the injustices that all the Mohans have faced’ (p. 65) links the personal to the political, marking a journey from internalized shame to collective solidarity.
Feminist and queer critiques of patriarchy are powerfully interwoven in several stories. Bipasha Bora’s ‘Bee Empire’ (translated by Sumi Dadhora) presents a searing indictment of sexual violence and the systemic denial of women’s autonomy. Through Katyayni’s stories of abuse, misandry is framed not as innate hatred but as a logical response to pervasive oppression. Her fantasy of a gynocentric ‘bee empire’, where the word ‘rape’ is erased from dictionaries is a powerful, radical vision of a world rebuilt for female safety and pleasure. Juri Baruah’s ‘Googly’ (translated by Harsita Hiya) tackles societal hypocrisy head-on, contrasting the suffocating scrutiny of same-sex relationships with society’s complicit silence around heterosexual violence. ‘It is strange how the very society that spits on such truths turns a blind eye to helpless bodies being torn apart by sadists and rapists’ (p. 83). Baruah writes, exposing the contradictions of a culture that whispers about condoms yet shouts in condemnation of queer love.
The nuances of interpersonal relationships and their tragic or hopeful conclusions form another compelling strand of the anthology. Manika Devee’s ‘Engraving’ (translated by Purabi Goswami) captures the delicate, unspoken bloom of attraction between two art students through the tender symbolism of shared craft and the implied ‘buzzing of bees’. In stark contrast, Jintu Gitartha’s ‘The Phantom in the Portrait’ (translated by Harsita Hiya) explores the devastating fallout of biphobia and digital shaming. When a college relationship between Nijula and Miranda is exposed via a maliciously recorded viral video, the ensuing blame-game and social ostracization lead to a tragic, watery escape, highlighting the fatal weight of stigma.
Prakriti Nazir’s ‘Pink Apples’ (translated by Harsita Hiya) and Jayanta Saikia’s ‘Smell of the Sea’ (translated by Merry Baruah) offer contrasting visions of acceptance and enduring love. Nazir uses the classical metaphors of Achilles-Patroclus and the Edenic apple to frame a contemporary gay romance. The revelation of matching ‘Pink’ tattoos leads not to permanent rupture but to the fiancée Sukanya’s compassionate reimagining of her future—now an orchard of unique pink apples where the lovers walk freely. Saikia’s story provides a sweeping saga of lesbian love that persists across decades, enduring separation, marriage, and childbirth, ultimately painting the portrait of a resilient, chosen family that stands as a quiet testament to the endurance of queer bonds.
Anthology of Queer Short Stories from Assam is a triumph of curatorial and literary vision. Through the nuanced storytelling of writers like Moushumi Kandali, Dibyajyoti Bora, Geetali Borah, and others, the collection successfully dismantles rigid binaries and challenges heteronormative structures. It acknowledges historical silences yet firmly plants Assamese queer writing in the fertile present, showcasing its undeniable artistic maturity and socio-political urgency. This anthology is a compelling argument that queer stories are not a peripheral concern but central to understanding the intricate, evolving heart of human experience. It charts the once uncharted, and in doing so, irrevocably expands the map of Indian literature.
Mridul Moran teaches Assamese at Dergaon Kamal Dowerah College, Assam.