#abeer hoque

[therumpus]

And I’m kind of grateful for that experience in a way. Once I left high school and was able to figure out who I wanted to be and who I wanted to be friends with, I realized I wasn’t the only one who was suffering. That Americans suffer too in high school. It wasn’t just because I was a foreigner coming into a place, or because I was one of the few non-white people in my high school. That experience gave me a real insight and an empathy for the American high school experience, which is a huge part of being an American.

VISIBLE: WOMEN WRITERS OF COLOR: Abeer Hoque

[therumpus]

All of this is Discrimination 101. Maybe you’re fat and you’re feeling the same resigned feeling that POC feel when white people are shocked at racism. I don’t blame you and I deserve it. After all, I’ve lamented the white and/or male fragility of my friends and lovers. I should be more aware, and I need to be more of an ally. I am learning lessons here—maybe too slowly, but lessons all the same. And thinking through and writing this out is part of the learning.

Abeer Hoque reviews Shrill by Lindy West.

[therumpus]

Piyali’s introduction to “Good Girls Marry Doctors” points to the pain of all this honesty, the vulnerability, the defiance and destructiveness. Daughters have a particular and encompassing role in traditional cultures and it can stifle any sense of individuality, let alone ambition or happiness. The seemingly simple idea of choosing “what being Indian means to me” as Surya Kundu puts it, can look like a betrayal of tradition and family.

Abeer Hoque reviews Good Girls Marry Doctors, edited by Piyali Bhattacharya.

[themissingslate]

it’s only now with someone else’s eyes that you can look at your red light blue sky body and wonder

Abeer Hoque, ‘crush’, published in The Missing Slate

[therumpus]

In Episode 36 of The Rumpus’s Make/Work podcast, Scott Pinkmountain speaks with author and photographer Abeer Hoque about her long journey to publication, and her obsession with memory and nostalgi...

In Episode 36 of Make/Work, host Scott Pinkmountain speaks with author and photographer Abeer Hoque. Hoque lives in New York, has Bangladeshi roots, was born and raised in Nigeria, and identifies home in several different places. She captures this kind of simultaneous global existence beautifully in her new collection of linked short stories, The Lovers and the Leavers, which was recently published by HarperCollins India. She speaks with Scott about the radical difference of the publishing world in India, her long ten-year journey to publication, and her obsession with memory and nostalgia.

I used to think that things didn’t happen or exist unless I’d written them down.

Listen to Episode 35 (and subscribe to Make/Work!) now in iTunes. Or get the direct download. And you can now get Make/Work through Stitcher.

[harpercollinsindia]

‘It’s love,’ Komola had told her. ‘We have love.’     Nita Madam had smiled.     ‘You know when you’re hungry?’ Komola cupped her right hand in a habitual motion. ‘You want to eat some rice.’     ‘Yes.’     ‘Well, before you eat, there is love. It comes even before your hunger.’

Abeer Hoque, The Lovers and the Leavers 

http://amzn.to/1IYTMGH

[harpercollinsindia]

‘Anyway, I couldn’t sleep with Firoz,’ she hisses amiably as the waiter hurries off. ‘Impossible. He’s just a teenager. It just couldn’t happen. Unless everything were different. Like we were in some foreign country and no one would ever find out.’

Abeer Hoque. The Lovers and the Leavers

http://amzn.to/1IYTMGH

[harpercollinsindia]

‘Anyway, I couldn’t sleep with Firoz,’ she hisses amiably as the waiter hurries off. ‘Impossible. He’s just a teenager. It just couldn’t happen. Unless everything were different. Like we were in some foreign country and no one would ever find out.’

~ Abeer Hoque. The Lovers and the Leavers