Chapter One of the novel can be found in the Fiction section of this issue. Cover image is by artist Dhruba Eash.
In the 8th century BCE, through the confluence of the Andhra, Shabar, Pulinda, and Muthib communities, the Pundras emerged as a distinct society, bearers of an ancient civilization whose echoes still pulse beneath the soil of Bengal. From the shadow of that forgotten heritage arises Trimohinee, a novel that journeys through myth and history to trace how the legacy of the Pundra civilization flows into the Language Movement and the Liberation War of Bangladesh.
In newly independent Bangladesh, a storyteller lowers the wick of his hurricane lamp, casting a golden hush over the people of Trimohinee as his voice weaves its spell. And in another time, a post-liberation novelist builds a web of words within the minds of two women — one he loves, the other he needs, to recover the sole surviving manuscript of his lost novel. Astonishingly, within both generations of storytellers dwells the same spirit: a mysterious princess named Mahzabeen.
Who, then, is Mahzabeen? A symbol of human continuity, of timeless consciousness? The embodiment of storytelling itself, that invisible current flowing through generations, binding the past and the present in the shared rhythm of imagination? Through her, Kazi Rafi captures the whispering essence of an age, a sacred impulse that makes the storyteller a vessel of eternity.
Among the people still living near the cradle of the Bengali language, the influence of that ancient Pundra world endures in their speech, their soil, their soul. In Mahzabeen’s fierce longing to uphold her mother tongue, we hear the echo of Emperor Ashoka’s exile of the Arya people and the defiance of Trimohinee’s own resistance to Pakistani aggression. It was a rebellion not of weapons, but of words, of rebuilding inner worlds through the transforming power of story.
The storyteller Shubhro, too, is more than a man — he is a symbol of the human mind itself, bearing within him the far-reaching magic of narrative and its ability to shape the unseen.
In Trimohinee, history is not a backdrop; it is a living current. Through its layered narration and stream-of-consciousness flow, Kazi Rafi allows his characters to drift and collide, revealing the psychic undercurrents of an era: its solitude, its revolt, its aching need to belong somewhere between destiny and desire. The prose is both ancient and immediate, echoing the pulse of memory and the restlessness of a land that has dreamed too deeply.
Nature in Trimohinee is never mere ornament. It is elemental; the earth itself remembering. Perhaps that is why the novel feels inseparable from Bengal’s soil, from the eternal rhythm of rain and river, from the heartbeat of a people who live in words as they live in dreams.
The novel’s vast canvas is populated by historical and mythical figures such as Gautama Buddha, Emperor Ashoka, King Jayapida, Kamala the dancer, and Mohini, maid to the courtesan Man Bai. Their lives woven into the evolving consciousness of a nation. With the precision of a historian and the tenderness of a poet, Kazi Rafi transforms history, geography, and tradition into a living mythology.
As Márquez created a magical Macondo from the real world, Rafi creates the reverse: an imagined Trimohinee that casts its shadow upon reality itself.
Trimohinee is not merely a historical novel; it is a river of consciousness, carrying within it the sediments of time, pain, and beauty. Its language breathes — sometimes fierce, sometimes tender — always alive, always searching.
Resonating with words drawn from the purest depths of human emotion, Trimohinee stands as more than fiction: it is a powerful testament, a mirror of the Bengali soul, and an enduring symbol of our collective memory.
As the author himself once wrote, “Love is not possible without immersion.” And in Trimohinee, immersion becomes the very language of love.

Nadira Bhabna, from Kuliarchar, Kishoreganj, is a passionate literary enthusiast, translator, and cultural connoisseur with Honours and a Master’s degree in English Literature from the University of Dhaka. Deeply attuned to the subtleties of language, she brings original texts to life with fidelity to the author’s voice, preserving the humor, rhythm, and spirit while adding cultural nuance for readers to savor. She has knowledge of French and is a member of the English Translation and Review Committee at the Kabi Nazrul Institute. Nadira has several published translations to her credit and is also an accomplished orator and experienced anchor, lending her an intuitive sense of rhythm, tone, and storytelling that enriches her translation work.





















































