The Underbelly Of Addiction

Like A Diamond In The Sky is Bangladeshi writer Shazia Omar’s debut novel. What stands out in the book is the main story line; the hollow lives of twenty-something hooked to drugs.

Shazia’s writing about Deen, AJ, Shagor, and Parvez’s intake of drugs is sharp and steely. She builds the tempo by showing the perennial penury of the khors, smackies, who constantly borrow and steal to fulfil their turquing, indulgence. The dialogue and depictions of their suffering, the after effects of taking cocktails of smack, heroin, yabba, drinks and acid sends a chill down the spine, quite like Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas. Just as that book was a journey into the American dream; Like A Diamond In The Sky is an attempt to capture the drug induced hazy reality of Bangladesh.

Through the character of Detective Khan we learn that Bangladesh is a child of divorced parents, India and Pakistan. The umbilical cord is not severed because Mumbai still provides rehabilitation centres and prostitution dens. Maria wishes to go to America to study and come back to solve her society’s problems. Deen’s trip to America cleans him up. But like Bangladesh’s attempt to stand independent and its difficulties in being able to do so, neither Maria leave nor Deen can manage to stay sober. Sergeant Akbar represents the ultra right wing. In the state police uniform, he is guided by the Holy Quran. He attempts to clean the world of what he sees as the scum of the society; Falani and Majid, the basti dwellers who trade in drugs. Yet, he does not touch and even pockets bribe from the rich and powerful Parvez’s father, a politician.

Using lines from popular western and Baul songs, the author brilliantly reflects the state of the mind of the characters. This is one of those rare books which evoke the sense of smell, the perfumes and intoxicants. What I liked most in the book is Deen’s attempt to detoxify. The ending is surreal. Beyond it being an experiential book about the lives of drug addicts it is also a story of the horror of one person, Deen, who has fallen into the black sea trying to save someone he cares for, Parvez, from drowning.
 
Omar has chosen a set of characters which form a very thin slice of the society. Each character carries a baggage. Deen is trying to deal with the death of his father, an educationist, AJ comes from extreme poverty and has built his life around smuggling and crime, Maria is the daughter of a lost father, Shagor is a thief. Each one is substituting the emptiness of their lives through intoxicants.

The book could have benefited from better editing for those characters to epitomise a young nation. Stock characters like the mafia don Raj Gopal or even his henchman Hassan could have been treated differently so that they do not seem like parts of a plot of a commercial Hindi cinema. AJ being Raj’s mistress, Sundari’s lover and Deen’s graphic affair with Maria could have been fleshed out because Maria’s disintegration comes too fast, by one attempt on her part to wait for Deen who is delayed.

Over all, the book is a diamond but a little more care in handling a first time writer’s work could have made it shine like a lode star in the firmament of nascent Bangladeshi literature in English. It is hard to write about a new nation which has already slipped into the quagmire of poverty and denial through drugs. For that reason and the many instances of razor sharp writing, besides its being a very good account of the wasteful nature of the drugs way of life, the book makes a good and racy read.
 
Amandeep Sandhu is the author of Sepia Leaves (Rupa, 2009)