By Raisa Anan
For this issue of MUSE, Raisa Anan interviewed Jahanara Tariq, one of the most beloved and talented faculty members at DEH, who is currently pursuing a Nonfiction Writing Program at the University of Iowa in the USA. In this interview, she reflects on her journey as a teacher and mentor at ULAB while also sharing her passion for creative writing and reading literature.
Question 1: Before joining ULAB, you taught at IUB for two years. Overall, how has your teaching experience been so far?
Answer: I actually taught at IUB for a year and nine months, but yes, over there, I was teaching foundation courses, so it was very different. It was more interactive because foundation courses were about learning how to speak, read, and write English.
When it comes to teaching, I’ve always seen myself more as a student than a teacher. I’ve always felt that learning never stops. You can learn from your students, your surroundings, and even from nature. There is truly no end to learning. So, stepping into the role of teacher felt almost like a kind of cognitive dissonance because I was on the other side. I remember writing about my experience as a teacher after joining IUB because I learned so much from my students, and it is truly amazing. I love that quotation. I forgot who the writer was, but it went like, “I pray that I can never tell my students apart from my teachers.” So even in the classroom, where you enter as a teacher, you are a student, because you are learning either way.
So, teaching has been almost like a spiritual thing for me. Teaching is quite lovely on most days, but like every other person, I also have some bad days. But overall, teaching has been amazing, and I am so grateful that I get to be a teacher.
Question 2: Is there a particular moment or incident with students in your teaching career that stands out to you?
Answer: Yes, so many. From the top of my head, I remember this one incident at IUB. So, I was teaching this course on reading and writing, and I had assigned the students a book to read. They could read any book they wanted, but they would have to write a review and give a short presentation by the end of the semester.
The students weren’t from the English literature discipline. In fact, I don’t think a single one was. So they weren’t exactly readers, and they were a bit unsure about the idea. I remember this one student who loved working out, and he was basically a gym rat. I remember him asking me, Miss, can you recommend a book that’s on gymming? The idea behind the task was that they had to read fiction, not nonfiction. So I told him I couldn’t recommend a book on gymming, but I gave him a list of novels instead. And when the semester rolled to an end, they were all asked to review the book that they read and give a presentation on it. He had read The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho, and he was like, yeah, it’s like a gym session for the soul. I found that so hilarious, the way he made an unexpected connection with gymming. So, I think that was definitely one of my favorite moments as a teacher.
Also, maybe because you’re sitting here right in front of me, but I remember another moment from the Restoration course. I really enjoyed the presentation that you gave with Azeema and Aiman. I found that really interesting, because you guys were critiquing AI generators, and I feel like it has become such second nature to us to use those tools, and to speak out against it in such a fun and witty manner was something very unique. I was so happy to be a part of that and to be on the receiving end of that.
There are a lot more incidents that I can’t think of right now, but every day is a learning opportunity. Every time a student bothers to ask a question or wants to learn something, it’s a different ride. In that sense, every moment is memorable.
Question 3: You are passionate about creative writing. What made this field stand out to you and pique your interest?
Answer: I’ve always wanted to be a writer. I just always knew that writing was at the center of my view. That is a little vague, but I knew I also wanted to be an academic. The idea of teaching felt like something very daunting. But when it came to writing, I always knew that it wouldn’t matter if I were a lecturer, banker, or even working at a grocery store, I would always be a writer. I try not to think of writing as something purely publication-oriented. As a university teacher, we’re expected to ask our students questions like: What’s your end goal? What will you do with your writing? What do you see in the future? We’re expected and encouraged to talk and think like that. I’m, in general, not a person like that. And I don’t think that the only worth of writing something is its publication value. So yes, I write for myself. And of course, to stand testament and stand as a witness to all that’s happening around us, history, politics, culture, and more.
My primary love for creative writing stemmed from my love for literature. So the two are very interlinked within me. I read a lot when I was younger, and I just felt like I wanted to talk back to the characters, the writers. And the only way of doing that was to just engage in this really whimsical exercise that is writing, and that is also very central to our being, again, like something that should come naturally or may come naturally to many of us.
Additionally, I was really lucky to grow up in an environment that really fueled my creativity and my innovative aspects. My dad was an artist, and my parents both had this sort of unconventional approach towards life. They really valued our passions and let us nurture them. I was definitely one of those kids who were encouraged to go for what they are passionate about, which for me is writing. Also, I grew up surrounded by artists, journalists, writers, and curators in my family. So I had a lot of exposure to various creative professions that motivated me to nurture my passion for creative writing.
Question 4. As an aspiring creative writer, are there any challenges you have faced while writing? If so, what are they?
Answer: It’s a bit of a cliche, but managing the time to write is the biggest challenge for me. It’s particularly difficult when you’re a working individual. Some people are really good at allocating time. I may not be the best at that, but I do think that I am pretty good at it because I have been writing and teaching quite successfully, I suppose. But it gets very difficult.
So I grew up in Uttara, and when I was 10 years old, my family moved to Rajshahi, and there, we lived in the suburbs. It is a lovely city and I had such an idyllic life. Then, when I started my undergrad at IUB, I moved to Bashundhara, just a five-minute walk away. This entire journey really shaped my growth as a person. Later, when I started working at ULAB, commuting every day completely blew my mind because it was so far from home. And sometimes, such simple things like commuting can really eat up your soul. So, managing time gets hard because it is not always in my hands.
So, I always wonder, how do I sort of do everything, you know? Show up for the people that I love, show up for myself, and then do my job, and then cater to my creative side, which is a huge part of me that I cannot give up on. I suppose the only way is to keep working. Because work is play. And I think labor is beautiful, not in the puritanical sort of way, but more like, you create something beautiful, and that’s your way of worship, and in a way, you give back to the universe. So yes, balancing everything and managing time is a challenge.
In terms of inspiration, I did face some challenges in finding my own voice, I suppose. So like I said, my relationship with writing stems from my relationship with reading. So I was consistently enamored by the books that I was reading, by the poetry, by the conversations that I had with the people who were reading, and whatnot. So, I was always full of all these thoughts that I wanted to write about.
Other than finding my own voice, I also had difficulties, sort of figuring out what I want to write in terms of genres. So, for the longest time, I wanted to write short stories. I wanted to perfect that form, but I felt like I wasn’t really good at it. Then I wrote poetry. Finally, now, I think something that I feel a really close association or relationship to is essays. Particularly personal essays and narrative non-fiction. So yes, I think that’s definitely something that I struggled with, finding my genre and just balancing time alongside my day-to-day life.
Question 5. Can you tell us about a piece of writing that changed the way you view storytelling?
Answer: There are so many, but if I had to talk about a book that is really close to my heart, it would be Orlando by Virginia Woolf. That’s an excellent novel, and I think Woolf is amazing. This text definitely changed how I view storytelling because Orlando is such a visceral and versatile text. It’s not a very thick novel, but it holds so many interesting flavors, and I was always really interested in history, so this book is totally my cup of tea. As a side note, I decided to go with Orlando for my undergrad thesis. I read the book and immediately fell in love with it because it’s a mosaic of different styles of writing.
Well, the story. So the story goes like this: there is this writer named Orlando, a poet in the courts of Queen Elizabeth. This poet is in the middle of carving out his magnum opus. But he is also someone who is just, in general, struggling with what others are saying about him. What are the critics saying? So it has a lot of ruminations on art and art making, in general, which I am very interested in. There is a magical realistic aspect to this book, and that is, Orlando never dies. So he lives through all these different ages of moving from the Elizabethan to the Restoration to the Romantic period and so on. So what Virginia Woolf does is make this character live through different literary ages, and with each shift, the style of the novel changes to reflect the spirit of that era. For example, in the Elizabethan age, the prose feels very grand and flowery, in line with Shakespearean language. Then, moving into the Restoration, the tone sharpens into wit and restraint, and later, in the Victorian age, it becomes heavier and more elaborate.
What fascinated me is how Orlando keeps trying to adapt to these different rules of writing while also questioning what art really is. And halfway through, Orlando even transforms from male to female, which adds another whole layer about gender and identity. The book plays with the idea that gender, like style, is something fluid, shifting depending on time and society.
Stylistically, it just blew my mind. Woolf manages to weave all of this into one compact, incredibly entertaining novel. I remember being amazed at how brilliant you’d have to be as a writer to pull that off, to make something so complex also feel so playful and alive. For me, it really redefined what storytelling could do.
Question 6: If you could sit down for a conversation with any writer, living or dead, who would it be and why?
Answer: Oh, I love this question. I would have said Woolf, but recently I read this fascinating novella-slash-memoir called Theory & Practice by Michelle de Kretser. It’s about a young woman in the 1980s, in college, who’s completely obsessed with Virginia Woolf—as so many of us are. In the book, the character, who is Sri Lankan like the author, comes across a racist remark in one of Woolf’s diaries. And that was interesting to me, because we often turn writers into gods, forgetting that they also have flaws, prejudices, and skeletons in the closet. Personally, I’ve always believed in separating the art from the artist, so I didn’t find that too jarring, but it did make me think about how complicated our relationship with writers can be.
If I had to choose, maybe Tagore. There’s something so expansive in his works. It feels like he could teach not just about writing, but about life. Marcel Proust would also be incredible; I’d love to just sit with him and learn about his writing process. Oscar Wilde, too—I would love to have a chat with him. Or Mujtaba Ali—he strikes me as someone who would be an amazing dinner table conversationalist: well-traveled, witty, erudite, with endless stories to share.And if we’re talking about someone living, then Elif Batuman. I don’t know if you’ve read her, but she’s definitely one of my favorite contemporary authors. She’s hilarious and sharp, and she writes brilliantly about Russian literature. The Possessed is her essay collection, and The Idiot is her novel—both wonderful. Honestly, it would be amazing to have a conversation with her.
Question 7: You are leaving for the USA in August. What do you think you will miss most about ULAB?
Answer: Definitely the classes. And of course, my colleagues—though I don’t even want to call them colleagues, because they’ve really become my friends. I’ve felt so taken care of here, and I hope I was able to give back in the same way.
But yes, the classes, the zone you get into as a teacher. The amount of work it takes to deliver a good lecture is demanding, but it’s also something I’ll truly miss. It’s not that I’m giving up teaching, but at ULAB I’ve learned to understand the pulse of the students and how they think and respond, and that’s made the experience far less daunting than when I first started. So what I’ll miss most is that particular energy, the connection and inspiration that comes directly from the students.
Question 8: What would be your advice to creative writing enthusiasts and the DEH students in general?
Answer: First of all, stop relying on AI and just write. If you’re a creative writer, you should be writing every day. It doesn’t matter how much time you have; you just need to do it. I don’t know if I have the most useful advice, but even when I’m talking to myself, I know I have to lock in, get my head in the game, and keep going. Writing is about routine and discipline, more than it is about sudden bursts of inspiration. Spontaneity is great, sparks of brilliance are amazing, but you have to capture them and hone them. Otherwise, that energy just scatters and turns against you. It becomes your worst enemy, makes you restless, unbearable even, because that voice inside you demanding to write doesn’t go away. Non-creating artists are almost like monsters; you can’t let yourself get to that place.
If you feel the urge to create, you have to give in. You have to feed that voice. Balance, routine, perseverance—that’s what sustains you. And just as important is reading. I think it’s astounding how many people are giving up on reading these days, because reading is really about attention. It’s the best way to train yourself to hold attention. Read actively, read widely, make time for it, even just twenty minutes. You can’t write without reading. So yeah, that would be my suggestion.
