Translated by Akshaya Kumar & Navdeep Singh

‘Cry of the Sky’ by Bhura Singh Kaler is a poignant documentation of Dalit silence and marginalization. ‘My Story, Everybody’s Story’ by Prem Gorkhy is the most ideological in its fictional intent. Underlined by a palpably Marxist tone and texture, it goes on to etch the contours of socio-sexual inequities that, within the context of multiple hierarchies, create a spectrum of mutually hostile caste situations. ‘Gaurjan’ by Ajmer Singh Sidhu, the last story in this collection,


Reviewed by: Anup Singh Beniwal
By Mohammed Khadeer Babu. Translated from the original Telugu by D.V. Subhashri

The translator says: ‘Let me warn you, it’s not just mispronunciations, but a few misspellings too that have crept in on purpose, such as Idyaniketan for Vidyaniketan, Ishvodaya for Vishvodaya, Enkateswara for Venkateswara, haeroplanes for aeroplanes, rishckaw for rickshaw, otel for hotel, iskool for school, kilas for class, etc. In addition to aiding the tone and humour, my intention was to represent how words are sometimes regurgitated solely by their sound, and how pronunciation tends to morph as it travels across class, region, age or education…. This is just to remind the reader that these stories come from hinterland, where the colloquial idiom is typically a mixture of languages and cultures.’


Reviewed by: R Azhagarasan
Translated from the original Bengali by Anchita Ghatak

When her mother arrives to make her home with them, the clashes between these two strong personalities result in so much strife that the family members are forced to take sides.
‘The Temple’ brings together two disparate characters, Aparna and Shaktinath. Aparna is the daughter of a zamindar whose days are spent in prayers and rituals. On her husband’s death, she returns to her father’s village and resumes management of the temple. This brings her into contact with Shaktinath, the son of the old priest.


Reviewed by: Madhavi Sethupathi
By Jeyamohan. Translated from the original Tamil by Suchitra

It remained there for around sixty years, until the Vijayanagara kingdom restored the temple in the city of Madurai and reinstalled the idol. Around this regional lore, the novel weaves its web of nostalgia for a faith in which gods were intimately connected with the lands they were consecrated on, in which social bonds of kinship and forms of affect associated with them could apply to the gods. Such faith was characteristic of the many kinds of worship that are now collectively referred to as ‘Hindu’. Nostalgia for such faith was prominent, for example, in the vociferous opposition of this section to the Supreme Court judgment of 2018 that allowed the entry of women of menstruating ages into the forest-shrine of Sabarimala.


Reviewed by: J Devika
By Madhav Hada. Translated from the original Hindi by Pradeep Trikha

Unlike many saint poets, Meera’s own personality also shines forth in her poetry. Hada notes her use of symbols and imagery related to the feminine body. ‘Words like kaakan (bracelet), moondro (ring), ghagroo (skirt or lehenga), duladi (double threaded beads), dovodo (a special ornament), akhota (ear ornament), jhootano (pendant), besari (nose ring), choodo (ivory bangles), rakhari (head ornament), are frequently used in her poetry.’ Intense emotions caused by separation also fill her poems and she can say ‘Phaarungi chir karun gal kantha, rahungi bairagan hori ri’ (I’ll tear my clothes, will renounce all material pursuits, clad in a patched robe).


Reviewed by: Mohammad Asim Siddiqui
By Volga. Translated from the original Telugu by Purnima Tammireddy

It is not knowledge which centres around ‘man’ as being the sole harbinger of ‘civilization’ with relentless power to subjugate whosoever fails to obey him. This is the wisdom Shabari expects from Rama and this is the wisdom with which she feels that the world is yet to realize the kernel of truth in her words. Shabari tells Rama, ‘I was looking forward to seeing you. My hope is that you will guide mankind into times when there would be no kingdom, no cities, no civilization’ (p. 118). ‘Mata! You’re trying to spin the wheel of time backwards, and that’s impossible’ (p. 119), pleads Rama. Shabari attempts to convince him that in his desire and duty to fight and punish, he is abiding by the rajdharma of breeding enmity. Rama shares with her the inevitability of humankind’s march towards civilization.


Reviewed by: Disha Pokhriyal