For Now, it Is Night

Kaul’s subtle collection explores the divide between Hindus and Muslims in late-20th-century Kashmir. The stories, which translator Raina explains in her introduction are “never overtly dogmatic or biased,” tease out the tension between the two cultures through asides and observations. When Poshkuj, the Hindu narrator of “Sunshine,” arrives in Delhi, having fled sectarian violence, she remarks how the “sky felt wide open” compared to mountainous Kashmir, where she lived among Muslims. “Tomorrow—A Never-Ending Story” portrays two primary school friends—one Hindu, one Muslim—who maintain a bond even as their abusive teacher attempts to drive them apart by forcing one to assist in the other’s caning. In “That Which We Cannot Speak Of,” a man longs for his old life in Kashmir while riding a bus through Bangladesh, wondering if he’ll ever feel at home again. Throughout, Kaul’s lyrical prose is lucidly translated; during a quiet and stultifying summer night in “A Song of Despair,” the narrator feels “as if someone was holding the wind captive.” This mosaic of ruptured lives astonishes. (Feb.)