The English translation of Amar Mitra’s Dhanapatir Char: Whatever Happened to Pedru’s Island? has recently been published by Penguin Random House India. The winner of the O.Henry Prize for Short Fiction 2022, Mitra, has weaved the tale around universal myths and motifs.
“Dhanapatir Char is both alluring and outlandish, yet none can escape its deep socio-philosophical message,” said poet, critic, and literary theorist Tapodhir Bhattacharjee.
Dhanapatir Char was first published in 2016 in Bengali. Jhimli Mukherjee Pandey translated the book into English.
Here is an excerpt from the book:
(From left) Amar Mitra and Jhimli Mukherjee Pandey Facebook
One
And so, the isle rose above the water, says Dhanapati,
The rivers merged into the sea around it.
Six and a half leagues away from Ghoradal, at the estuary of the Bay of Bengal, the island of Dhanapati rose above the waters like the back of a tortoise. People believed it to be a real giant of a tortoise that had been sleeping there for thousands of years. Just like the tortoise avatar of Vishnu, deep in slumber by the bay. As time passed, silt collected on its stagnant back and, gradually, the island was born. For a period of six months each year, as the waters receded somewhat, the island rose to become home for those who came to live and work there. Six months later they would return to Ghoradal, only to come back in another six.
No one at Ghoradal knew who had actually measured the distance of the island to Ghoradal. Those who went to live on the island temporarily didn’t know it either. Some people, like the old Dhanapati Sardar, who might be as ancient as the tortoise itself, say that what used to be six and a half leagues during the time of the European pirates is now not less than ten leagues. After all, the island of Dhanapati is not stable! Every day, it is inching towards the sea. Even in its slumber, the ancient tortoise avatar is instinctively preparing for a sea voyage towards Lisbon—the land of the Portuguese pirate. One fine day, in the month of Ashwin just after Durga Puja, boats carrying settlers from Ghoradal to the island will not be able to locate it anymore. The tortoise avatar will vanish, leaving behind only frothy waves all around.
There are rivers—never-ending and deep, just like the sea—on three sides of the island except the southern side. Old Dhanapati says, this six-months-a-year world will not remain forever. It cannot. And perhaps, the death of the island would mark the awakening of the tortoise avatar. The engulfing high tides during the peak monsoon of the Bhadra month shake him up and make him move forward. He will carry coconut, betel nut, mango, balsam, ebony and other trees that grow well in the marshy coastal environs of the place on his wooded back, and move away from one water to the next. The truth is that the island of Dhanapati will not stay forever.
Excerpted with permission from the publisher.
(Buy the book here.)