“Letting Words Bear Down and Burn” – Interview with Dilruba Ahmed

Associate Editor Jan Bottiglieri interviewed poet Dilruba Ahmed, whose poem “In the Echo Chamber” appeared in RHINO 2011.

Photo credit: Mike Drzal


…Relinquish

your name, your story,

your life. Then sink


to the root of it…

From the poem “Evening in Mendocino”

At the root of things – that is where we expect to find dust, common and elemental. In her book Dhaka Dust (Graywolf, July 2011), poet Dilruba Ahmed helps readers reexamine, and re-imagine, that idea of commonality with each new image of dust – a dusty village road, memory’s dust on a photo album, the sweet taste of cinnamon on a market vendor’s lips – sifting it though her fingers to let the light catch and transform it. Dust is what clings or clouds; it is foreign and familiar, particle and apart, home and afar.

JB: Your bio mentions that you have “roots in Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Bangladesh.” Please tell us a bit more about your background.

DA: My parents came to the U.S. from a region of Bengal known then as East Pakistan and later, as Bangladesh. I was born in Philadelphia, and I lived most of my childhood in Ohio and my adolescence in western PA. Much of my family’s early history in America is situated in Philadelphia, so although my family moved to Ohio when I was quite young, Philly is a home of sorts. I’ve never lived in Bangladesh, but the ties to my family’s homeland feel significant nonetheless.

JB: What led you to writing?

DA: I can only guess that the urge to write came in part from being an outsider in small midwestern towns. My parents and my older sisters were interested in creative writing, and my mother in particular was a strong influence on me. She had been active in poetry recitation competitions while she was in Bangladesh, and she continued to read, write, and recite Bangla poetry upon her arrival in the America.

JB: The New York Times book review of your book Dhaka Dust includes this quote from your poem “Dustcover”: “I let the words bear down and burn.” Please tell us more about what you feel gives language this type of transformative power. Do you feel language has shaped your cultural identity?

DA: Absolutely. Bengalis hold the Bangla language very dear to them. It’s a very soft, beautiful, expressive, and poetic language—and a matter of regional and cultural pride and political import. Bangla (Bengali) was my first language, English my second. I grew up in a bilingual household in which, over time, my parents spoke Bangla to my sisters and me, and we responded in English. (To this day, this is typically how we communicate.) While my siblings and I have retained our comprehension of Bangla, our spoken Bangla lags behind.

I think that growing up that bi-cultural and bi-lingual environment deeply shaped my cultural identity—my lived experiences spanned more than the small towns where I grew up, and I was keenly aware of my parents’ “ghost homeland” that seemed to exist just out of reach. My bilingual upbringing also heightened my awareness of language, I think—I discovered early that a very funny story relayed by my mother in Bangla sometimes failed to have the same richness and deliciousness in English, for example; or that certain English words had no counterpart in Bangla. I learned, too, that languages could provide access and power as much as they could create barriers to communication and belonging.

Most enduring were the experiences of hearing my mother recite Bangla poetry with great drama and expression. Much of the language was beyond my reach, but my mother would sometimes translate the formal Bangla into household Bangla, or into English. But without those translations—and even with them—those poetry recitations became incantations. I had a similar experience whenever I heard prayers called out in Arabic. Both of those languages functioned as pure music in my experience—deeply mysterious and powerful music that I could not fully comprehend.

JB: Reviews of Dhaka Dust all mention the sense of place that figures so prominently in your work. Your poem in RHINO 2011, “In the Echo Chamber,” is also very place-specific – but its landscape is the body. Can you tell us a bit about what inspired you to write this particular piece?

 

DA: Long before I had a child, a colleague who was describing her labor and delivery said to me, “I miss being pregnant.” It was an alien thought to me at the time, but it struck me later that the experience of being pregnant was indeed so fleeting and, like so many experiences of parenthood, never to be duplicated in quite the same way.

While I was carrying my son, I felt so…plural. I was continually aware that, for a brief time, I possessed a bodily state that would only be temporary. The cutting of the umbilical cord released that physical bond, but the emotional and psychological bond is indescribable. In parenthood, there’s a kind of nostalgia for the present that’s hard to escape, imbuing many moments with both great sweetness and melancholy. I think of it now as an Instagram effect, in which snapshots taken 2 minutes prior can be transformed into objects of nostalgia, something from the long-ago, unrecoverable past. It’s that “Oh my God, remember when he was just [fill in blank]?” feeling of shock that many parents experience on an ongoing basis.

So I guess you could say that in this poem, the body becomes a landscape in which the speaker rues the loss of a particular kind of intimacy that results from the actual birth. Parenthood, in my experience, has often been a complex battle against time’s passing, with life moving at warp speed.

JB: I love the way “In the Echo Chamber” explores shifting ideas of connection and “otherness,” an idea that seems prevalent in much of your work. Can you share with us why those concepts are important to you, and how you address those ideas through your work?

 

DA: “Otherness” of one kind or another characterized many of my life experiences… I tended to feel both connected and apart in multiple contexts—both here in America, where I was born and raised, and in my family’s homeland as well. For example, in certain parts of America, others have expected (and in some parts, still do expect) me to be more “Indian” than I seem to be on the surface, or have been surprised that I’m fluent in English. In some settings, people distinguish whether one is Indian or Bangladeshi; in other settings, we are South Asians. While I was living in the cultural flux of the San Francisco Bay Area, a different set of questions arose about solidarity with all people of color. In Bangladesh, I experienced at times a profound divide, and in other moments a deep sense of belonging.

In my work, I hope I have conveyed how fluid those feelings of connection and alienation can be, whether through a speaker returning to Bangladesh and experiencing the comforts of reuniting with a family split by place and time, or via a narrator moving through an American homeland that is divided by racial tensions.

 

JB: What have you been reading lately?

DA: I have been reading Anne Carson’s Glass, Irony, and God with an interest in unpacking her emotionally brutal distancing effects; Lighthead with great appreciation for Terrance Hayes’ sonic playfulness; and In the Surgical Theater, particularly for Dana Levin’s handling of a father figure in a medical crisis.

________________________________

Dilruba Ahmed is the author of Dhaka Dust (Graywolf, 2011), winner of the Bakeless Literary Prize for poetry awarded by the Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference.  Her poetry has appeared in Blackbird, Cream City Review, New England Review, New Orleans Review, and Indivisible: Contemporary South Asian American Poetry.  Her writing has also appeared in the Michigan Quarterly Review blog, the National Book Foundation blog, the Asian American Literary Review, and The Kenyon Review Online.Ahmed holds BPhil and MAT degrees from the University of Pittsburgh and an MFA from Warren Wilson College.  She teaches in Chatham University’s Low-Residency MFA Program.

To learn more about Dilruba Ahmed visit her website, or purchase Dhaka Dust here.

RHINO Reads! 4-26-13 Open Mic & Featured Poets Kirstin Hotelling Zona and Sara Tracey LOCATION CHANGE

Open Mike        6:00 pm – 6:30 pm

Featured Poets        6:45 pm – 7:30 pm

LOCATION CHANGE

JJ Java Cafe

911 Foster

Evanston, IL

Directions

Kirstin Hotelling Zona‘s poems have appeared in a number of journals and anthologies, such as the Southwest Review, Beloit Poetry Journal, Poet Lore, The Spoon River Poetry Review, and The Mom Egg. “Riptide, ” the title poem of her full-length manuscript, received the Elizabeth Matchett Stover Prize. She is also the author of numerous essays on modern poetry; a book of criticism, Marianne Moore, Elizabeth Bishop, and May Swenson: The Feminist Poetics of Self-Restraint; and editor of Dear Elizabeth.  Kirstin lives with her husband and two young children in Maine and in Illinois, where she is an associate professor at Illinois State University, co-host of Poetry Radio on WGLT, and the editor of The Spoon River Poetry Review. She will read from her latest collection, “Drift” (finalist for 2011 finishing line press open book contest).       

Sara Tracey is the author of Some Kind of Shelter (forthcoming, Misty Publications, 2013) and Flood Year (dancing girl press 2009).  Her work has recently appeared in Vinyl Poetry, The Collagist, Harpur Palate, and Passages North. She is a regular performer in The Chicago Poetry Bordello, a teaching artist in The Rooster Moans Poetry Cooperative, and a PhD candidate at the University of Illinois Program for Writers.

Evanston Poetry Scene – Where to Find Books!

Bookman's Alley

Welcome to this second installment of RHINO’s guide to the Evanston poetry scene! As promised, we’ll start our tour with places to read and write.

The first thing anyone tells us about writing in any genre is that we have to read everything we can get our hands on. Even disregarding Barnes and Noble, there are a lot of books for writers to get their hands on and in here in Evanston, RHINO’s home base.

Evanston Public Library

Where to Find Books

The two main libraries in Evanston, Evanston Public Library and the Northwestern University Library both provide excellent resources to the community and host expansive collections of books. Northwestern’s forte is research, and EPL boasts a wide variety of fiction for kids and adults. Bright, open, and inviting, the public library functions as a literary community center, hosting various book clubs, conferences, and other events (including RHINO’s monthly workshop series, The Forum!).

Near campus, Market Fresh Books is a favorite of “Townies” and “Gownies” alike. They have a wide variety of books in every genre, including a good-sized selection of new releases. The best part? At Market Fresh you pay by the pound.

Bookman’s Alley has been an Evanston institution for more than thirty years. The

Bookman's Alley

quaint storefront opens into a veritable labyrinth of old books, snaking through poetry, western history, children’s books, photography, and more. The owner announced his plans to go out of business in December 2011, but there’s no rush; Mr. Carlson plans to stick around as long as the books do.

Howard's Books

Piled high with books, but well organized and easy to navigate, Howard’s Books is well worth the jaunt north of downtown Evanston. Howard himself runs the shop and is happy to help you find what you’re looking for, happy to let you browse as long as you’d like, even happy for you to sit cross-legged in the middle of the aisle so you can see the books on the bottom shelf.

In and among the larger book stores of Evanston are nestled several tiny ones as well. Amaranth Books’ narrow, no-frills aisles shelve a wide variety of used and rare books whose makeup seems to be half nonfiction and half Literature (with a capital L), all in mint condition and at excellent prices. Further south, Squeezebox Books feels much more playful than Amaranth, with a selection that is small, but off-beat and surprising. Book Den, another tiny space stacked to overflowing with books of all kind, is more or less organized by topic, but definitely built for exploring.

The Chicago-Main Newsstand has been around forever (almost literally), and carries a huge variety of local and out-of-state magazines for all kinds of interests, as well as a huge selection of literary magazines. A perfect place to find inspiration for your own writing.

Chicago Main

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Thanks to RHINO Intern Sarah Weber for the research and compilation of this series. Sarah is a senior Theatre and Creative Writing major at Northwestern University. Originally from Dallas, she’s spent the last several months making a concentrated effort to truly get to know Chicago and Evanston and has, in the process, fallen in love with them. She will head to Emerson College in the fall to pursue her masters in publishing.