Rana came to the market in 1966 with the slogan: Thriller for adults. Masud Rana was heavily influenced by James Bond, John Drake, Simon Templar - and though the hero was portrayed as a Bengali, the heady 60s social transformations which gallantly flaunted liberal attitudes towards sexual relations eased their way into Rana’s life. This is like a time capsule open the page, the smell is redolent of mischief of the days gone by when families had strict rules against all Rana books. Take for instance, that Rana book cover of the 70s, with hand drawn sketches of mysterious silhouettes and the newsprint which is no longer used by any publisher.
Rationally speaking, one does not see any reason to read Masud Rana books now, but then, some of life’s most precious moments cannot be defined by hard core logic. Well, maybe most wouldn’t but I would, and so will many others for whom Rana is a link to their teenage days of fantasy. Come on, with so many eye popping stunts shown in current day action films, would you spend a hot, languorous afternoon curled up on the sofa with a Bengali spy thriller? In a time when reading for fun is seeing a fast decline, the mere fact that Masud Rana novels are still out there is a bit of a miracle.
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