The Storyteller of the Northeast Passes Away to the Land of No Return: Mithilesh Bhattacharya

The foremost fiction writer of the Northeast, Mithilesh Bhattacharya, is no more. I was startled to see the Facebook post by Amitabha Sengupta, editor of ‘Ishan,’ in the midnight of Deepavali. It took me a few minutes to regain my composure. His short stories spoke in a soft, water-like voice, wandering alone. This deep, engrossed conversation felt essentially with his own other self, sometimes dissolving into nature itself. His narrative style had no excess, possessing instead the grace of simplicity.

Mithilesh Bhattacharya, one of the prominent storytellers of North-Eastern India, was born on February 23, 1946, in the village of Dakshin Binoshona in Chowallish Pargana, Moulvibazar subdivision, Sylhet district (now Bangladesh). He studied in Silchar and, after graduating with Honors in Economics, joined UCO Bank.
His literary journey began in 1967 at the age of 21, when his first short story, ‘Ekhon Sagar’ (Now the Sea), was published in the ‘Sharadiya Dainik Prantajyoti’ of Silchar, encouraged by senior writer Shyamalendu Chakraborty.

For over four decades, his stories have appeared in numerous little magazines across Assam, Tripura, West Bengal, and Bangladesh. His four story collections include ‘Kakshapath’ (Orbit), ‘Chaitrapabane’ (In the Spring Wind), ‘Atmokatha’ (Autobiography), and ‘Swapnapurana’ (Fulfillment of Dreams). He was also a prolific editor, having launched the mini-magazine ‘Dauk’ in the 70s and co-edited the famous literary journal ‘Shatakrutu’ with Tapodhir Bhattacharya from 1973 to 1984.

He observed life with great intimacy. His writing was like a seismographic analysis, forecasting the tremors, fractures, and collapse of middle-class life. His stories had the rare ability to make the familiar unfamiliar and the unfamiliar familiar, transforming fragile, middle-class existence into a kind of mystical, dream-like landscape. This landscape was filled with the inconsistencies of existence, the patchwork of relationships, and the death of expectations—a true reflection of contemporary life.

I first read Mithilesh-da’s stories in the 1990s. In August 2011, I have discussed about his stories and later on reviewed his 2nd story collection ‘Chaitrapabane’ published by Akhshar Publications, Tripura. We met in person at the Silchar Book Fair in 2019 when I went there to inaugurate the fair, and maintained regular contact thereafter. Just ten days before his passing, we spoke about an English anthology I am editing, which would feature a translation of one of Mithilesh-da’s stories.

Mithilesh Bhattacharya was remembered not just as a “wizard of words” but as a thoroughly decent gentleman and a well-wishing guardian. I would like to laments by saying that this amiable man, an ‘Ajatashatru’ (one who has no enemies), suddenly departed without informing anyone.

Tapodhir Bhattacharya, his closest friend and co-editor, expressed deep grief on social media. The author also expresses distress that the final rites were performed almost unnoticed by everyone, preventing him from paying his last respects.

Mithilesh Bhattacharya was a writer deeply immersed in the poetry of Jibanananda Das, whose lines he felt followed him like a shadow. That tireless walk behind the poet has now ended in the darkness of this autumn night, on the banks of the Barak, Jatinga, or Dhansiri rivers.