I was initially taken a back when I first read the title. Admittingly, I assumed it was a historical mini-epic. Thankfully, that was not the case. Tahmina Anam, born well after the independence of what we now call Bangladesh has accounted the months of turmoil leading up to "the golden age" as though she witnessed the upheaval first hand.

We are introduced to recent widow Rehana Haque in March 1959. Her adoring husband has passed suddenly, leaving the burden of imminent disaster behind him. Basically without any family or a source of income, Rehana loses her children to her husband's barrister brother and his barren wife in Lahore. Dhaka is her husband's home, the place she began her life after her father passed away in Calcutta and where she will stay, despite the reservations of her sisters who live in faraway Karachi. Her guilt over losing her children drives her to build Shona (golden), a smaller home behind her existing property which she rents out for income and a means to fund her battle with her in-laws.

Fast forward to March 1971. Rehana is reasonably content with her life. She busies herself with the daily chores and caring for her almost adult children. The anniversary of their return back from West Pakistan is celebrated annually, with continuing pomp as neighbours and friends gather in attendance. For a few stolen moments, her family is safe, pleasantly unaware of the imposed martial law and growing violence only a few streets away. Despite the small victories, Rehana isn't supremely confident, jubilant or even long suffering in appearances. She doesn't have the aura of sadness or strength as do many female protagonists. She remains in the background of her own story, letting her small world carry on, unwilling to disturb what little tranquility she has maintained. Her charismatic son Sohail and impulsive, outspoken daughter Maya are on the cusp of a revolution for a new order and show little resemblance of their mother. Rehana Iqbal Haque, only a woman, a desperate, unfit, young mother and abandoned wife, scorned for her lack of worldly experience. Too young, too weak to care for anyone, and loved too much by her dead husband.

Guilt and the need for forgiveness rule Rehana's heart. After the early loss and recovery of her children, Rehana lives with the guilt of the desperate measures she resorted to build Shona. She feels guilt because she is unable to prevent children's involvement in the war, but more because she is unable to secure their safety, keep them at home, away from the inferno. A chance encounter with one of Sohail's comrades and a brief flicker of passion and cathartic release results in one of the many poignant moments told with honesty by Anam.

What many new authors haven't picked up on is that simple is ultimately more efficient and satisfying. Anam's realistic prose, combining vivid descriptions of the changing communal landscape is not over the top or cliched like many recent narratives of evil politicians and selfless comrade revolutionaries. A decent depiction of the genocide of a generation is rare, as is this read.