Mohammad Zaman Biography

Yes, I don’t know how to write the right words or harp on the right notes. After a long and fruitless inner discourse, I thought that the aboutness of my writings should not be my parlance; I rather shall keep my quietness …

Well, I had quite a rich childhood in the remote villages of North-East district in Bangladesh. I grew up tethered with the undulating vibrancy of as-far-as-eye-can-go paddy fields. The night sky was unadulterated. And the morning’s busy running around with brothers and cousins and friends…

Free as a man can be... and then I crossed the Rubicon...

I am kind of Asperger. I shy away from the sunshine that I love. I shy away from the crowd that routs my mind, and yet my mind longs to be in company. I thrive in adagio grace, but the blaze of lighting pirouette makes my ear dance. I am my nemesis.

The essence of a tree is in its fruit – not in its name. Name is nothing but a name. Yet, let the truth be known, I have a given name that I never loved nor cherished.

I am a physician; an accidental one.
I am a writer; an occasional one.

In my quaint abode on the Raquette River, in the quiet North-East corner of New York State, I live with my beautiful wife and a dream …