Tag Archives: Literature

The opening section sets the tone for this method as, through Saroj, the novel returns to the domestic and emotional underside of literary reputation. Nirala appears not as a monument but as a man caught in affection, loss, poverty, and eccentricity. The section on Miraben and Kasturba Gandhi complicates the familiar Gandhian moral grammar. Anamika highlights the complex relationship between the two women, shaped in part by Gandhi’s controversial experiments with celibacy and the public scrutiny surrounding his closeness to Miraben. Without reducing the relationship to scandal or sentiment, the novel quietly raises questions about how public perception may have influenced the emotional dynamic between the two women. Anamika approaches these relationships with restraint and psychological nuance.

The first few essays focus on women’s fashion in Mizoram, early Mizo songs, the gender imbalance in the production and consumption of food, folklore and trailblazing women such as Nuchhungi Renthlei who became the first Mizo to document Mizo folktales in the Serkawn Graded Readers, a reader that has enabled young schoolgoers to become familiar with their own cultural past. The pursuit of this cultural materialist approach is indicative of a growing interest amongst Mizo scholars in both tracing shifts in their culture and understanding how these changes have shaped their identity or influenced their relationship with tradition.

It is the mundane materiality of groceries, virtual schooling, work from home, and housework that remind us about the behind-the-scenes effort that people, especially women, make on a daily basis to carry on with the business of life, even in times of upheaval and uncertainty. The author goes beyond the residents who inhabit this relatively prosperous street to include in her creative ambit the grocery delivery boy Shyam, who decides to walk home to the safety of his village however illusory that safety might be

The pervasiveness of patriarchal atrocities come across as unusually stifling as stories such as ‘Dastoor’ elucidate how they thrive under the garb of custom and tradition. Such a hostile environment is exacerbated by rampant alcoholism, abject poverty and lack of employment whose intersection is reflected in many of these writings. Consequently, one also comes across women fighting and trying to forge an identity of their own and ‘dukka’ or toil becoming a defining aspect of their life.

In doing so, it weaves the spatiotemporal coordinates of interbeing where body, soul and universe are mutually entwined. The wife’s (Ira’s) deep connect with the luminous world of nature is manifest in her tender attachment to her brio-filled mulberry tree that fructifies, provides pleasant shade, attracts chirping birds, and vibrates with lively monkeys. Ira’s empathy with the refulgent tree annoys Sudhiranjan, her pragmatic botanist husband, and makes him so jealous that he poisons it secretly.

In this sense, Brighu resembles the figure of the flâneur described by Charles Baudelaire, an urban observer who maps the city through meanderings, curiosity, and detached reflection. Banerjee’s storytelling in Absolute Jafar can similarly be understood as a metaphorical act of walking, whereby urban spaces are represented not as mere locations but as lived environments that are experienced and remembered by their inhabitants. The illustrations and panels of Absolute Jafar seem attuned to the narrative’s preoccupation with memory.

She comes to India not as a tourist but as one coming home to the Bhansi Estate, where her great-grandfather had built a magnificent colonial bungalow, the Nandan Van. Anjula finds the landscape unattractive in comparison to the English countryside (p. 5). But the first five months make her adjust to the family home of paddy fields, eucalyptus and sal trees, tomato plantations and fruit orchards,

‘And just as the pemkatha combined elements from Arabic, Persian, Sanskrit, and other Indic literary traditions but was more than the sum of its parts, so too the manuscript codices fashioned to contain the pemkatha drew from multiple book-making and aesthetic traditions, combining them to produce a material text artefact with its own distinct character’ (p. 28).

The irony proves pointed: species deemed threats to native ecosystems are the very fish Isha once knew, now providing sustenance and cultural memory in diaspora. The novel withholds its most startling revelations until late, interrogating the very nature of identity, memory, and kinship across temporal and ontological boundaries.

That earlier urgency diminished, and with it, a certain fire; the impulse to know more, understand more, and remain connected to one’s immediate oral environment. In linguistics classes, the first thing we are taught is how words are produced in the mouth as we speak them.

Centred here, the story moves backwards and forwards to London and New York, and to a few places in Europe and India. It is the time of the pandemic.
Other than those who dominate the writer’s visual canvas, there are characters in the background and the foreground. Each is drawn with a master’s spare, sure touch. But those who rule the canvas are rendered with a magical mix of lucidity and inscrutability. We never know anyone enough,

Does each of us human beings experience an identity crisis? Perhaps not to a cataclysmic degree where it could become existential. However, at some point in all our lives, we do, hopefully, seek to know ourselves better. And what truly constitutes this ‘me’ that we seek deeper understanding of?

Any reader who has relative familiarity with the Bollywood film industry is sure to enjoy the next entry in this collection featuring Bollywood filmmaker Anurag Kashyap. In this interview excerpt, Kashyap candidly narrates the creative backstory of some of his box-office successes and misses such as Dev D (2009), Udaan (2010), The Lunchbox (2013), Sacred Games (2018), Lust Stories (2018), and more.

It is no difficult task for the historian to trace the arc of colonial violence across the landscapes of the global South. The afterlives of Empire leave their marks everywhere: etched into soil, folded into language and embedded in law. The exploitation of clove trees in the Moluccas, the Indian state’s bureaucratic indifference to the Andaman and Nicobar Islands in the wake of natural disaster,

We couldn’t linger. ‘There’s so much more to see,’ urged Pradeep as he led me away. ‘Let’s meet Potty’, he said, with what I thought was a mischievous smile. The captivating aroma of really old books wafted around the corner…and there sat Solomon Pottesman, alias Potty surrounded by mountains of lovely antique books. ‘I am an incunabulist’, read the legend on the back of his chair.

Given the power asymmetry between English and Indian languages, a fair and equitable dialogue between them is difficult to imagine. On the rare occasions when Indian language books are discussed in an English context, they are treated as free-floating objects devoid of cultural and critical milieus of their own and are used merely as fodder for the western critical canon.

It is in Guwahati that Samar meets two of his closest friends—Rizu Kalita and Rana Singh Choudhury. Through this adolescent friendship the story moves forward. Samar’s friends carry their own baggage. Rizu was admitted to St. Joseph because his father, the much-loved Madhob Kalita did not want to lose both his sons to a revolution whose cause he was not sure of.

In ‘Summers of Waiting’, Sita visits her ailing Tatha, her grandfather, who has raised her. Even before she arrives, she understands she must leave: ‘Twelve days was all she had.

But there is a third level which, as the book shows, comes via writing stories about people, mostly women—men too—who have experienced loss and grief. Thus, we have the canvas of the ten searing stories in this book filled with sisters grieving for sisters/brothers, mothers grieving for daughters/sons, and wives grieving for their partners.

Described as stories of love in the blurb of the book, When Jaya Met Jaggu and Other Stories explores various facets of love from romantic, platonic, familial, to even eternal love. The strength and weakness of a short story are both in the aspect of brevity—the currency of words