Categories
Review

…My Heart Wanders Wailing with the Restless Wind…

Book Review by Meenakshi Malhotra

Title: Shabnam

Author: Syed Mujtaba Ali

Translator from Bengali: Nazes Afroz

Publisher: Speaking Tiger Books

Shabnam (1960) by Syed Mujtaba Ali is a love story that is set in the third decade of the 20th century. ‘Shabnam’ in Persian means a ‘dewdrop’. The polyglot scholar Mujtaba Ali’s love story becomes a vehicle for articulating the profundities of life which extends beyond the plot and the telling just like that of his teacher, Rabindranath Tagore. To quote the words of another reviewer: “His novel can be compared to a dewdrop which assumes rainbow hues during sunrise as it encompasses not only the passionate cross-cultural romance of Shabnam and the young Bengali lecturer, Majnun, but also shades of humanity, love, compassion set against the uncertainties generated by ruthless political upheavals.” Sweeping in scope, set against the backdrop of the Afghan Civil War (1928-29) and beyond, the novel narrates an epic love story. That this has recently been translated by a former BBC editor stationed in Afghanistan, Nazes Afroz, and published for a wider readership, emphasises its relevance in the current context, where regressive curtailment of human rights and liberties are evident on a daily basis.

Shabnam is a young, upper class and educated Afghan woman, fluent in French and Persian. As we learn in the course of the narrative, she is daring and apparently fearless. She is proud of her Turkish heritage as she invokes it while introducing herself: “You know I’m a Turkish woman. Even Badshah Amanullah has Turkish blood. Amanullah’s father, the martyred Habibullah, realised how much power a Turkish woman—his wife, Amanullah’s mother—held. She checkmated him with her tricks. Amanullah wasn’t even supposed to be the king, but he became one because of his mother.” Given the current context, with its attack on womens’ freedom, it is perhaps difficult to imagine that a woman like Shabnam or anyone with a similar persona or voice could be found at all. She seems at times to inhabit the rarefied realms of her author’s imagination, beyond the earthly realm.

Shabnam’s knowledge of history and the world is extensive. She actively chooses and decides about her surroundings and her own life, which is more than what many women can do in today’s Afghanistan. Characters like Shabnam are also the result of the varied travels of the author Mujitaba Ali, who traveled and taught in five countries. On the power wielded by women, Shabnam offers a rejoinder to her lover/narrator: “In your own country, did Noor Jahan not control Jahangir? Mumtaz—so many others. How much knowledge do people have of the power of Turkish women inside a harem?”

The novel has a tripartite structure. In the first part, is the dramatic meeting of the narrator, Majnun, with the striking and unconventional Shabnam at a ball given by Amanullah Khan, the sovereign of Afghanistan from 1919 to 1929. The novel’s narrative is dialogic in nature and the introduction and subsequent exchanges of the protagonists  are peppered with wit and poetry. The first part concludes with the two of them acknowledging their love for each other.

In the second part of this novel,we witness more developments in their relationship. Shabnam assumes an agential role and makes a decision to marry Majnun secretly with only their attendants looking on. And then later, this decision receives a legitimate sanction since a wedding is organised for them by her father, who does not know they are already married. Despite the xenophobic approach in those times of many Afghans (and other South Asian communities) against marrying their daughters to foreigners, her family decides to marry Shabnam to Majnun as they wanted her out of conflict-ridden Afghanistan and in a safer zone. Her father hopes she will go off to India with her husband. This seems unexpectedly progressive in the Afghanistan of  almost a century ago. But instead, in the third part, she is abducted by the marauding hordes while her beloved attempts to organise their return from Afghanistan.

The last part continues with Majnun’s quest for his beloved. His endeavour leads him to travel, hallucinate and drives him almost insane, reminiscent of the Majnun of Laila-Majnun fame, a doomed union that resonates in and forms a motif in the narrator/lover’s repeated conversations with Shabnam. At the end of the novel, Majnun ascends the physical realm of love. He says: “Now after losing all my senses, I turn into a single being free of all impurities. This being is beyond all senses—yet all the senses converge there… There is Shabnam, there is Shabnam, there is Shabnam.”

The novel concludes with the realisation that “there is no end” (tamam na shud). This feeling seems to echo the idea of  “na hanyate hanyamane sarire”(“It does not die”) in Sanskrit signifying that love is eternal, even beyond the material realm. Both the luminosity and fragility of love is represented in the novel.

Mujtaba Ali’s wide and varied experience is in evidence at several points in the novel, as is his wit and satiric sense, some of which filters through to his created characters.   This can be experienced in the dialogues and descriptions even in its translated form. In order to conceal her identity from the marching and rustic hordes, Shabnam comes to visit her beloved in a burqa. She argues that it is not a symbol of oppression but a self-chosen disguise: “Because I can go about in it without any trouble. The ignorant Europeans think it was an imposition by men to keep women hidden. But it was an invention by women—for their own benefit. I sometimes wear it as the men in this land still haven’t learned how to look at women. How much can I hide behind the net in the hat?”

A valuable addition to the rich corpus of travel writing in Bangla Literature, the book remained unknown to the world outside Bengal despite its excellence as there were no translations. In 2015, Afroz had translated and published this book as In a Land Far from Home: A Bengali in Afghanistan. It was subsequently shortlisted for the Crossword Book Award. That translations can provide a bridge across cultures is eminently clear from this work, which gives us a tantalising glimpse of a culture beyond our own and encourages us, the readers, to recognise that true love transcends borders or boundaries and that the language of true love is the same everywhere.

The novel’s title, Shabnam, is a natural choice, as the intelligent, courageous and beautiful Shabnam is the emotional centre of the novel. To describe her ineffable charm, we could draw upon Mujtaba’s teacher’s words, in Gitanjali (Song Offerings by Tagore):

She who ever had remained in the 
depth of my being, in the twilight of
gleams and of glimpses…

… Words have wooed yet failed to win
her; persuasion has stretched to her its
eager arms in vain.

Song 66, Gitanjali by Tagore

Majnun, the narrator lover is left, in Tagore’s words: “gazing on the faraway gloom of the sky, and my heart wanders wailing with the restless wind.” Romance by its very nature, is fleeting and  transient and romantic love in its literary avatars/depictions acquires a bitter-sweetness when its founded on loss and longing. So it is with Shabnam.

.

Dr Meenakshi Malhotra is an Associate Professor of English Literature at Hansraj College, University of Delhi, and has been involved in teaching and curriculum development in several universities. She has edited two books on Women and Lifewriting, Representing the Self and Claiming the I, in addition  to numerous published articles on gender, literature and feminist theory.  Her most recent publication is The Gendered Body: Negotiation, Resistance, Struggle.

.

PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles

Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Amazon International

Categories
Review

The Oldest University in the World?

Book Review by Bhaskar Parichha

Title: Nalanda: How it Changed the World 

Author: Abhay K

Publisher: Penguin Vintage

Nalanda University, founded in 427 CE in ancient India, is considered the world’s first residential university. It attracted 10,000 students from across Eastern and Central Asia to study medicine, logic, mathematics, and Buddhist principles. The University flourished for over seven centuries, predating the universities of Oxford and Bologna by more than 500 years. Nalanda’s enlightened approach to philosophy and religion significantly shaped Asian culture long after its decline. The Gupta Empire, though Hindu, supported Buddhism, fostering a liberal environment that allowed it to blend intellectual Buddhism with multidisciplinary academics.

Nalanda was destroyed in the 1190s by Turko-Afghan military general Bakhtiyar Khilji, who sought to extinguish the Buddhist center of knowledge. The fire set by the attackers reportedly burned for three months. Today, the excavated site is a UNESCO World Heritage site.

Numerous aspects of Nalanda continue to be enveloped in an enigma. What is the date of its establishment? Who were its founders? Which individuals engaged in study and instruction at this institution? What disciplines were available for study? What was the population of students and educators? Can Nalanda be classified as a university by contemporary standards? What factors contributed to its eventual decline? Nalanda – How It Changed The World by Abhay K. unravels these questions.

Abhay K. has authored numerous poetry collections, such as Celestial, Stray Poems, Monsoon, The Magic of Madagascar, and The Alphabets of Latin America. Additionally, he serves as the editor for several notable works, including The Book of Bihari Literature, The Bloomsbury Book of Great Indian Love Poems, Capitals, New Brazilian Poems, and The Bloomsbury Anthology of Great Indian Poems.

Writes Abhay in the introduction to the book: “There is no clear and entirely reliable interpretation of Nalanda’s past or, for that matter, the past of just about anything. Rather, there are scattered ideas that we try to string together as history, an overview stitched from snippets. And there is no single interpretation of these snippets but rather competing and conflicting interpretations. Recognizing this slippery nature of the past and its documents is part of what makes scholarship such an exciting enterprise.

“Buddhist monasteries existed all over India, Central Asia, and East Asia. However, Nalanda became a celebrated monastery in comparison to its contemporaries. What might be the reason? One of the reasons was its proximity to Rajagriha (modern Rajgir), the first capital of Magadha. Rajagriha in those days was full of political intrigue and rivalries. It became a fertile ground for the birth of the Magadha Empire. Over the centuries, Magadha was ruled by a succession of dynasties, including the Brihdratha dynasty, the Pradotya dynasty, and the Haryanka dynasty. The Haryanka dynasty was the third ruling dynasty of Magadha. It was founded by Bimbisara (c. 558-c.491 BCE). He is considered to be a contemporary of both Mahavira (599-527 BCE) and Gautama Buddha (563-483 BCE). His son Ajatashatru further consolidated it after forcefully taking over Magadha from his father and imprisoning him. He fought a war against the Vajjika League, led by the Lichhavis, and conquered the republic of Vaishali.”

Divided into eight chapters – Nalanda the capital of Magadha, the legendary sons, the rise of Nalanda Mahavihara, luminaries, foreign scholars of Nalanda, Nalandas’s contributions and its global footprint – this is an exhaustive book. The narrative chronicles the ascendance, decline, and resurgence of Nalanda Mahavihara. It delves into Nalanda’s significant contributions to various fields, including science, mathematics, philosophy, art, architecture, and poetry, supported by thorough research. Additionally, it emphasises the distinguished scholars who enhanced its unmatched status as a leading center of learning, as well as the international scholars who frequented the renowned monastery.

Concludes Abhay K: “Nalanda’s footprints to be spreading to new territories in the twenty-first century, where they have not been strong before. As our planet faces the triple threats of climate change, biodiversity loss, and environmental pollution, humanity needs to make peace, both with its inner self as well as with its fellow species, rivers and lakes, oceans, and all entities that support life on our beautiful planet. Nalanda’s timeless tradition of imparting knowledge, wisdom, and kindness can guide humanity toward overcoming hatred, anger, frustration, and greed while fostering inner and outer peace.”

The core message of the book — with numerous photographs — is that the creation of institutions named after Nalanda around the world instills in him a sense of optimism that humanity will eventually resolve all its conflicts through the esteemed Nalanda tradition of dialogue and discourse, rejecting violence and warfare permanently. In this context, the ongoing legacy and revival of Nalanda, both in India and internationally, serves as a significant beacon of hope.

Nalanda, with its expansive scope and rich historical background, offers an engaging narrative that illuminates the evolution of this ancient institution over the course of thousands of years.

Bhaskar Parichha is a journalist and author of Cyclones in Odisha: Landfall, Wreckage and ResilienceUnbiasedNo Strings Attached: Writings on Odisha and Biju Patnaik – A Political Biography. He lives in Bhubaneswar and writes bilingually. Besides writing for newspapers, he also reviews books on various media platforms.

.

PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles

Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Amazon International

Categories
Review

Travels in a Paradoxical Island

Book Review by Bhaskar Parichha

 Title: Return to Sri Lanka: Travels in a Paradoxical Island 

Author: Razeen Sally

Publisher: Simon & Schuster India

Sri Lanka’s culture is characterised by several paradoxical aspects that reflect its rich history, diverse population, and the complexities of contemporary society. Here are some notable contradictions: Home to various ethnic groups, including Sinhalese, Tamils, and Muslims, each has its distinct languages and traditions. However, there is a prevailing sentiment among some that prioritises Sinhalese culture over others, leading to tensions and conflicts regarding national identity and rights.

While Sri Lanka has a history of female activism and women hold significant positions in politics (e.g., former President Chandrika Kumaratunga), gender inequality persists in many sectors. Women often face societal pressures that limit their roles despite their contributions to the economy and community. The tiny country has made strides in economic development and infrastructure, yet significant poverty remains, particularly in war-affected regions like the North and East. This disparity highlights the uneven benefits of economic progress across different communities

The island is also known for its religious diversity, with Buddhism, Hinduism, Christianity, and Islam practiced by its citizens. However, this coexistence is often marred by sectarian violence and discrimination, particularly against minority groups during political upheavals.

As Sri Lanka embraces globalization and modern influences, there is a tension between adopting new lifestyles and preserving traditional customs. This cultural clash can lead to generational divides within families and communities.

Razeen Sally’s book, Return to Sri Lanka: Travels in a Paradoxical Island, explores these complexities and contradictions. The memoir combines personal narrative with historical and political analysis, offering readers an immersive journey through various regions of Sri Lanka—from the bustling capital of Colombo to the tranquil beaches and verdant hill country. Sally reflects on his childhood experiences while addressing the island’s tumultuous history, including its colonial past and the long-lasting effects of civil war.

Razeen Sally, the son of a Sri Lankan Muslim father and a Welsh mother, was raised in Colombo and educated in the UK. After teaching at the London School of Economics, he now teaches at the Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy in Singapore. In his early forties, he felt a strong urge to return to Sri Lanka for the first time since childhood and has spent the past ten years exploring the island.

Sally viewed Sri Lanka as a paradise during his childhood, but conflict soon disrupted their lives, fracturing his family’s connection to the island. Return to Sri Lanka tells the story of his journey towards reconciliation in the twenty-first century, as Sally, now an academic and political adviser, revisits his birthplace. This travel memoir addresses significant political issues and is rich in beauty and profound reflections, written by someone who feels like both a local and a visitor.

The words, “Paradoxical Island”, in the title encapsulates the duality of Sri Lanka, where hospitality coexists with high rates of violence and societal divisions. Despite interactions among ethnic groups like Tamils and Sinhalese, underlying tensions often surface, revealing deep-seated issues regarding rights and representation.

Sally provides insight into how historical events, such as the policies of successive governments and the impact of colonialism, have shaped contemporary Sri Lankan society. He discusses significant political figures and movements while critiquing policies that have led to economic challenges, including a brain drain among educated youth.

The book highlights Sri Lanka’s diverse cultural landscape, examining how various religions and ethnicities contribute to both its charm and its conflicts. Sally emphasises the importance of understanding these dynamics to appreciate the island’s true essence.

Return to Sri Lanka is not just a travelogue but a profound exploration of a nation grappling with its identity. Sally’s reflections offer hope for reconciliation and progress, urging readers to engage with Sri Lanka’s complexities while appreciating its inherent beauty. These paradoxes illustrate the complexities of Sri Lankan culture, where historical legacies continue to shape contemporary realities, creating a vibrant yet challenging social landscape.

Bhaskar Parichha is a journalist and author of Cyclones in Odisha: Landfall, Wreckage and ResilienceUnbiasedNo Strings Attached: Writings on Odisha and Biju Patnaik – A Political Biography. He lives in Bhubaneswar and writes bilingually. Besides writing for newspapers, he also reviews books on various media platforms.

.

PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles

Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Amazon International

Categories
Review

A Kaleidoscope of Bibhutibhushan Bandopahyay’s Works

Book Review by Somdatta Mandal

 Title: Kaleidoscope of Life: Select Short Stories

Author: Bibhutibhusan Bandyopadhyay

Translated from Original Bengali by Hiranmoy Lahiri

Publisher: Hawakal Publishers

Bibhutibhusan Bandyopadhyay (1894 – 1950) is one of the best-known Bengali writers of the twentieth century and therefore needs no introduction.  Though most of his works are largely set in rural Bengal, he didn’t receive much critical attention until 1928. Author of famous novels like Pather Panchali (1929), Aparajito (both of which inspired the famous film director Satyajit Ray make  his films based on them), Chander Pahar and Aryanak, he is the also the author of several short story collections like Meghmallar (1931), Jonmo O Mrityu (1937), Kinnardal (1938), Talnabami (1944), Upolkhondo (1945), Kshanavangur (1945), and Asadharon (1946). The multifaceted nature of his short stories has invited translators to explore the different facets of this genre and till date, we find several new translated volumes of his short stories see the light of the day quite frequently.

An interesting feature of the short story is that down the centuries the genre’s changing variety made it difficult to be classified under any fixed notion. Whatever may be the subject matter, structure, or style, a short story tells a ‘story’; otherwise, readers would not read it. Whether events in their stages of development or sequential movements and logical relationships are enough for it to be considered a story have been debated so often that it is not necessary to repeat them here. We just need to remember that as far as the short story is concerned, readers have opted for it because of the beauty that lies within its compact structure, a beauty that thrills the reader when the story ends.

Now to come to this collection of Bibhutibhusan’s short stories selected and translated by Hironmoy Lahiri, a young translator and a freelance writer. Apart from the semi-autobiographical piece “How I began writing,” with which it begins, there are fifteen stories ranging from the sentimental, bizarre, thrilling, meditating, and occult where different other kinds of emotions are also expressed. Except for a couple of already translated pieces by other hands, most of the stories selected here by the debut translator have not been translated earlier and all of them are unique for their theme, style and narrative method. The stories have not been chosen on the criterion of chronology of their appearance in print or a particular theme which is usually resorted to by other translators; instead, the focus has been on the diverse nature of the author’s creative world. The volume thus includes ‘slices of life’ stories, unusual stories such as those of smugglers and dacoits, fictions of remote places and unusual personalities, and even supernatural narratives. They really provide a comprehensive view of Bibhutibhusan’s genius, and the phrase ‘kaleidoscope of life’ mentioned in the title definitely justifies this collection.

The very first story in this collection titled Upekshita, ‘The Disregarded’, is significant because it happens to be Bibhutibhusan’s first published story that appeared in the leading Bengali magazine Prabasi in 1921 and narrates the writer’s special relationship that he had developed with a village lady who took on the responsibility of taking care of his meals and looking after him. Drawn upon his personal experiences, especially during his stint as a teacher at a suburban school in Harinavi, when the myopic residents of the area misrepresented the author’s innocent nature of the relationship with the lady as a scandalous incident, it led to such misunderstanding that Bibhutibhusan eventually resigned from his school and moved to Calcutta.

 ‘Archaeology’ talks about a statue that mysteriously comes to life and establishes Bibhutibhusan’s interest in ghosts, the mystic and occult that is revealed in several other stories as well. Some of them are simplistic, like the story ‘Motion Picture’ that narrates the vision of seeing a lady djinn swinging outside an old house, or the sighting of the ghost of an opium seller in ‘Gangadhar’s Peril’. But there are also much more complicated ones like the very popular long story of ‘Taranath, the Tantrik’ where the protagonist is a mystic figure and practitioner of occult. With a growing fascination for tantra and tantric practices and philosophy in real life, it is said that the author had interactions with a commanding female ascetic who was a devoted follower of the Hindu goddess Kali, and she offered him words of wisdom about tantra and afterlife. The popularity of this fictional character created by Bibhutibhusan was later continued by his son Taradas Bandyopadhyay and even graphic stories continue to be created on him.

 Bibhutibhusan’s penchant for exotic locations in his fiction like Chander Pahar (The Mountain of the Moon, 1937) and Moroner Donka Baje (The Death Knell, 1921) comes out clearly in the story ‘Chyalaram’s Adventure’ where a driver is recruited to help the King and his family escape from Kabul by crossing inhospitable terrain and reach India. The narrative is packed with action and thrilling escapades and Bibhutibhusan portrays Chyalaram’s brave actions and unorthodox approach to life in a positive light. As in the novels mentioned above, it expresses the author’s impressive ability to vividly and accurately describe exotic places he had never visited but write about them imaginatively, totally resting upon ‘the wings of poesy.’

In several stories, we find a delicate twist at the end of the tale, be it ‘Grandpa’s Tale’ narrating how he was forced to marry a dacoit’s daughter with a subtle touch of humour seamlessly integrated into the narrative, or ‘Not a Story’ that focuses on the danger posed by dacoits in rural Bengal at that time, where a traveller narrates the tale about a person called Satish Bagdi; or the sweet romantic ending of ‘The Suitcase Wrap’ that was inspired by an actual event when the author’s  sister-in-law’s suitcase was accidentally switched on a train. This story captured the attention of readers and was eventually made into a very popular Bengali feature film called Baksho Bodol. ‘Jawharlal and God’ is a satirical tale born out of the author’s anguish and sorrow caused by the Partition of India and the tumultuous aftermath of World War II. The story was written to depict the loss of human values and how man had lost compassion and wonder for the natural world and distanced himself from God. Each of the remaining stories in this collection is unique and once again the translator needs to be congratulated for such an eclectic selection.

Providing a suitable glossary at the end, Hironmoy Lahiri has tried to stick to the original as far as possible, as well as to keep inconsistencies at bay. He has also taken particular care to maintain the essential Bengali linguistic and cultural nuances in the stories. The book will provide non-Bengali readers a good example of the quintessential Bibhutibhusan Bandyopadhyay, who is definitely a difficult writer to translate. The stories explore several universal themes that transcend cultural boundaries and will prove to be popular with readers from different cultural backgrounds.

.

Somdatta Mandal is a critic and translator and a Former Professor of English, Visva-Bharati, Santiniketan.

.

PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL. 

Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles

Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Kindle Amazon International

Categories
Review

A Blur of a Woman

Book Review by Malashri Lal

Title: A Blur of a Woman

Author: Basudhara Roy

Publisher: Red River

The feminine mystique has defied every attempt to capture its attributes. If clusters of stories surround a goddess, dilemmas are embedded in them. If the pavement-dwelling mother with children clinging to her skirt images economic deprivation, there are stories hidden in her grey-flecked eyes. Basudhara Roy recognises this amorphous, protean aspect of the feminine and titles her collection A Blur of a Woman, poetically declaring; “she owns the place/and the little magic she has earned…she will use it someday to unbuild herself/disappear dissolve/ become a blur”.

This collection is a subtle attack on patriarchy as it encompasses the history and socio-cultural conditions that have moulded women into being mercurial yet tangible, pliant as well as resistive, buoyant but also vulnerable. As the poems flow in a drumroll of many contexts, vignettes of the journey are captured, symbolically strong and offering a plethora of layered meanings. The lines encourage a dialogic exchange whether with the poet, or with one’s own half-acknowledged self that is suddenly confronted by Medusa’s mirror.

The first two sections begin with poems titled ‘Duhkha’ and ‘Soka’[1], directing us towards the Buddhist principle of inevitable mutability and the need for acceptance.

I have seen hearts shut and bolt doors
from within, their windows walled while
on love the mold of ingratitude thrives

With such adaptations, the contemporary takes precedence over the philosophical teachings, and the identification with thwarted expectations, social discord, betrayal and helpless sorrow is almost immediate. If solace is to be found it is now individual—and, in this instance, by  turning to the gnarled trunks of trees where tears have watered the serrated bark. Speaking of the imagistic density of Roy’s phrases, this kind of interlinking through poetic shorthand is perceived in much of her narrativisation. The ‘betrayal’ that causes sorrow and also the maturity of recovery is a process resonant through the history of women’s writing. ‘Soka: A Triptych’ strings this further through contemplating the elegiac notes of death and mourning—yet birth and death are twins: “If life alone can be seen/all this emptiness must surely be death.”

A sizeable section of the book charts a trajectory of feminist fables, gleaning references from Rabindranath Tagore, Jayadev’s Geet Govinda, Philomela’s story, Virgo’s distress, and others. In Roy’s hands, irony becomes a viable and effective tool of social critique as in the poem

‘In Which Bimala Agrees to an Interview for a Special Issue of Post-Text Feminism’. Tagore’s popular novel Ghare Baire/ The Home and the World presents Bimala as the conventional woman who is persuaded to discover the turmoil of the world outside the threshold. Basudhara devises an imaginary conversation, some of which is quoted:

Where, then, would you locate yourself?
Here. Now.
Come on! I am hardly lost
and need no GPS of theory to find myself!

Such a startling reinvention of a canonical text subverts many assumptions with sharp, clear strokes: the jargon of literary theory, the leap into digital alignments, the confidence of the liberated woman, and the time travel that feminism has enabled.                     

My other favourite piece is about ‘Lalita’, a sakhi or friend  of the beauteous Radha who is always the heroine in the traditional tale. In Lalita’s version of the mysterious raas leela where Krishna is perceived by each woman as her partner, she is jubilant about her societal escape and physical abandon;

limbs supple like vines we danced,
thrilled to be
where love was recklessly returned.

This may be the right time to refer to the Author’s Note which is titled ‘I Write from the Body’ and seems to carry forward the feminist discourse of theorists such as Hélène Cixous who invented the term écriture feminine, or Julia Kristevawho perceived the  chora as a specially maternal zone.  According to Roy, “In the earth-bed of this woman’s life that I live, poetry runs as a river, its plenitude being both a lesson and an antidote to the prosaic borders of my world.” In which case, “Blur” is the right metaphor for attempting to break the boundaries through word-play and subversive themes expanded in poems  such ‘Aid to Forgetting’, ‘Praise for the Subaltern’, ‘Dis/enfranchised’—and several other poems  are expressions of resistance to the bastions of control. Philomela’s severed tongue has again learned to speak– but it’s a new language of assertion and intertextuality.

The semiotic breakthrough in Roy’s poems is accompanied by stylist experiments too, the Ghazal section being one such. The transcreated  use of the Urdu structure allows for couplets on a variety of subjects—for example, the seasons in the manner of the Baramasa (songs of the twelve months) with a twist that the woman is no longer the bereft, perpetually waiting figure uttering  her woes to the firmament. She says confidently now: 

You etch every constellation on your  palm
Yet secrets line the arcane of the body

In all, A Blur of a Woman, offers  poems for the intellect and the heart which are  indivisible aspects of a woman’s existence. That she  is mercurial  and evasive is once again a reminder of a fascinating mystery that has prevailed over time — and perhaps its more exciting to keep it that way.

[1] Both Dukha and Soka are forms of grief

Malashri Lal, writer and academic, with twenty one books, retired as Professor, English Department,  University of Delhi. Publications include Tagore and the Feminine, and the ‘goddess trilogy’ (co-edited with Namita Gokhale) In Search of SitaFinding Radha, and Treasures of LakshmiBetrayed by Hope: A Play on the Life of Michael Madhusudan Dutt  received the Kalinga Fiction Award.  Lal’s poems Mandalas of Time has recently been translated into Hindi as Mandal Dhwani. She is   currently Convener, English Advisory Board of the Sahitya Akademi.

.

PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles

Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Kindle Amazon International

Categories
Review

Hunger and Poetry of Afsar Mohammad

Book Review by Basudhara Roy

Title: Fasting Hymns

Author: Afsar Mohammad (translated to Telugu by P Srinivas Goud as Upavaasa Padyaalu)

Publisher: Bodhi Foundation

In the best of poems, the barrier between word and prayer crumbles, and in the greatest of them, it is dissolved into a timeless song of being. To name a collection of poems Fasting Hymns would be one thing but to summon and craft poems out of the very act of fasting is to elevate both poetry and prayer to a level of transcendence that only be accomplished by a world vision of the human soul. A collection of thirty poems, Fasting Hymns is Afsar Mohammad’s second book of poetry and invites comparisons in its honest sublimity with Rumi, and in its political engagement with the sinewy Bhakti poetry of the Indian subcontinent.

The ritual of fasting is of great significance in many traditions of thought. Valorised as an act of cleansing, of virtuous self-abnegation, of rest, sacrifice, healing and strength, voluntary and compulsive fasting constitute an important element of practice in several religions of the world. In contrast to the acquisition of physical energy through the act of eating, the act of fasting is believed to produce spiritual energy while also making for the rejuvenation and sustainability of the resources of production, including the earth and the body. Just as home reminds us of homelessness, fasting reminds us of food, of nourishment, of the body, and of the ways in which the body is negated, abused, denied, violated, punished and decimated by most discourses of power.

Most importantly, fasting recalls its close kin—hunger, for while fasting is a voluntary act of deferring consumption, hunger is an enforced act of deprivation and a stern reminder of the rampant food-wars and strategic starvation that a large part of the world’s population is led to regularly undergo for political and economic reasons. Fasting Hymns contextualizes the act of fasting within the month-long holy fast of of Ramadan and in underlining the centrality of this fast to Islamic ethics and philosophy.

There is a tranquillity to the book’s appearance–a visual script that overlaps reality, hope, and dream as its thirty poems commemorate the thirty days of fasting in the Islamic calendar. A linear travel of the consciousness meets us here, heightening in poem after poem as it widens to embrace larger spaces of geography and spirit. With each advancing day of the roza or fast, the poems travel deeper, unearthing spirit from body, soaring from ‘I’ to ‘us’, granting and seeking the essential solidarity of existence:

The sunken moon like
an empty stomach
Praying for a piece of bread. (Poem 1)

This collection, as the reader will note, is as much a journey into the world of the self as it is into the self of the world. Each untitled poem here ranges between three lines to twelve and becomes a hymn not just by virtue of its length or in being written by a fasting body but in being written by a searching soul. As one travels through them, there is a gradual building up of compassionate force, a slow summoning of the resources of the self:

Fazar: I begin my self-talk
Iftar: Not sure where
my self-talk ends.
If you can map my face,
Time and space fail. (Poem 9)

One is struck by this intense vigilance on the soul, this consistent observation of its workings, and this thorough and starkly honest ransacking of its contents to discover what it holds. Religion and humanity confront one another with determination in these hymns, the poet content to let the greater force win:

Amma would say,
“You earn ten nekis for
Offering water to a Rozgar.”

What would Amma say
if she knew an entire country was
cut off from water and food
during Ramadan? (Poem 17)

It is interesting to note that the Islamic holy month, in this book, is spelt in all its three major variants: Ramadan, Ramzan and Ramjan, pointing to the plural linguistic heritages of the Muslim community. However, what is assigned supreme value in these poems is not the ritualistic observation of fast but the profound spiritual experience that the month demands of its observers. The sharp interrogation of religion in the interests of humanity concludes, in this collection, with a complete subservience of the former to the latter. Between the first hymn and the last, the book covers a dense journey—physical, political, civilisational and human. There is no indignation in these poems, no overt moralising and no despair whatsoever. The book does not grieve an unliveable world or express helpless anger over its injustices. If anything, each of these thirty poems is a testimony to the spirit of human courage and endurance, its pace and measure acquired from a deep spiritual anchoring in the principles of humanity beyond religion:


I thought I know all my suras by heart.
now, each verse is a stranger and,
asks a hundred questions. (Poem 5)

If Afsar’s first collection of poems Evening with a Sufi sought to view the world through the Sufi gaze of oneness, these poems in Fasting Hymns seek to experience that oneness in the flesh and in the spirit through bonds of connection and empathy that the act of fasting fosters in the human body and soul. In Precarious Life: The Powers of Mourning and Violence, Judith Butler talks about the “public dimension” of the body: “Constituted as a social phenomenon in the public sphere, my body is and is not mine. Given over from the start to the world of others, it bears their imprint, is formed within the crucible of social life; only later, and with some uncertainty, do I lay claim to my body as my own, if, in fact, I ever do.”

For Butler, the fact of physical vulnerability makes the body a shared public space, connected and accessible to others. This fact of vulnerability is also the focal point of Fasting Hymns that transforms blood into bread and vice-versa. Afsar reminds us how we pay for everything with the currency of the body—with hunger, disease, guilt, grief and how it is the body that ties us to each other in unalienable ways so that each one of us is equally vulnerable to the violence of hunger:

Yes,
When I speak about the bread of Ramzan
I also speak about the
Blood of Muharram
Bread and blood are never
Separate in my world. (Poem 10)

Fasting Hymns is a distilled collection. There is nothing extraneous here in terms of either thought or language. The simplicity of diction in these poems makes for their steady luminosity–a subdued but patient burning that consistently lights up the fallible. While Evening with a Sufi was a translation from Afsar Mohhamad’s original poems in Telugu into English, this bilingual collection, born in English, has been expertly translated into Telugu by P. Srinivas Goud as Upavaasa Padyaalu, the very translation of ‘roza’ into ‘upavaasa’ bridging the aesthetic and ideological disparities between languages, cultures, and religions:

More than a hundred dishes
Compete in a political iftar.

I walk into a muhalla.

I see an empty plate
and a hungry face everywhere. (Poem 15)

While fasting, in general, might mean only the forgoing of food, the fasting during Ramadan is also a potent historical reminder of the scarcity of water and of thirst. While this collection offers rich food for thought, there is a grace to the poems that reminds one of water flowing from a tilted pitcher. A majesty of vision marks this collection along with a deep sense of personal responsibility to be accountable for the world and to account it, making this book both an intense soul-searching as well as an unsparing statement on things found.

At the day’s end Fasting Hymns brings both the calm of twilight and the restlessness of days to come–a restlessness that can be overcome only by the courage to struggle ceaselessly against undermining forces and, if necessary, alone.

Click here to read some verses from Fasting Hymns

Basudhara Roy teaches English at Karim City College affiliated to Kolhan University, Chaibasa. Author of three collections of poems, her latest work has been featured in EPW, The Pine Cone Review, Live Wire, Lucy Writers Platform, Setu and The Aleph Review among others. 

.

PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles

Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Kindle Amazon International

Categories
Review

 A Saga of Self-empowerment in Adversity

Book Review by Bhaskar Parichha

Title: Daughter of The Agunmukha: A Bangla Life 

 Author: Noorjahan Bose (Author), Rebecca Whittington (Translator)

Publisher: Speaking Tiger Books

This memoir recounts the journey of a young woman from a small island in Bangladesh who discovers the works of Tagore, Marx, and de Beauvoir, ultimately emerging as a prominent advocate for feminist causes.

Noorjahan Bose is a feminist author, social advocate, and activist resides between the United States and Bangladesh. She is the founder of two organizations based in the US aimed at empowering South Asian women: Ashiyanaa (previously known as ASHA) and Samhati. Rebecca Whittington serves as a literary translator specialising in Tamil, Bangla, and Hindi.

The narrative of Daughter of the Agunmukha[1] intricately weaves the life story of Noorjahan Bose, a remarkable woman whose journey is marked by resilience, courage, and an unwavering quest for freedom. Born in 1938 in a rural area of what is now Bangladesh, Noorjahan’s early life was deeply intertwined with the rhythms of nature and the struggles of her family, who were farmers living in close proximity to the tumultuous River Agunmukha, ominously referred to as the Fire Mouth River. This river, with its fierce currents and unpredictable nature, serves as a powerful metaphor for the challenges Noorjahan would face throughout her life.

From a young age, Noorjahan was thrust into a world of hardship and trauma. She endured sexual abuse at the hands of male relatives, a harrowing experience that left deep emotional scars. Compounding her struggles was the influence of her mother, who, having been a child bride herself, was often constrained by the societal norms and expectations of their time. Despite her own limitations, Noorjahan’s mother became a beacon of hope and creativity in her life. She instilled in Noorjahan a sense of joy and the importance of self-expression, encouraging her to explore her talents and dreams even in the face of adversity.

As Noorjahan grew older, her thirst for knowledge and personal freedom became increasingly evident. Education, however, was not easily accessible to her. The societal barriers and gender discrimination prevalent in her community posed significant obstacles to her academic pursuits. Yet, with the unwavering support of her mother and the encouragement of local activists who recognised her potential, Noorjahan began to carve out a path for herself. These activists, driven by a vision of social justice and equality, played a crucial role in empowering her to challenge the status quo.

Emboldened by her experiences and the solidarity she found in progressive movements, Noorjahan’s journey took her beyond the borders of her village. She became an advocate for women’s rights, using her voice to speak out against the injustices faced by women in her community and beyond. Her activism not only transformed her own life but also inspired countless others to join the fight for equality and empowerment.

As she traveled the globe, Noorjahan encountered diverse cultures and perspectives, each enriching her understanding of the world and deepening her commitment to social change. Her experiences abroad further fueled her passion for education and advocacy, leading her to collaborate with international organisations dedicated to uplifting marginalised communities.

Noorjahan’s life has been marked by significant hardships, beginning with the anguish of Partition, followed by the loss of her husband when she was merely 18 and expecting a child. Additionally, she faced the relentless threat of cyclones that jeopardised her family’s home and means of survival. Despite these challenges, her bravery is evident throughout her memoir. She advocated for the rights of the Bangla language in East Pakistan, navigated the tumultuous period of Bangladesh’s Liberation War (1971), and entered into a marriage that transcends her family’s religious boundaries.

This poignant and compelling narrative encapsulates a profound journey of trauma, loss, resilience, and empowerment.

.

[1] Agunmukha means fire mouthed

Bhaskar Parichha is a journalist and author of Cyclones in Odisha: Landfall, Wreckage and ResilienceUnbiasedNo Strings Attached: Writings on Odisha and Biju Patnaik – A Political Biography. He lives in Bhubaneswar and writes bilingually. Besides writing for newspapers, he also reviews books on various media platforms.

.

PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles

Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Amazon International

Categories
Review

Lavanyadevi: An Epitome of Perfection?

Book Review by Somdatta Mandal

Title: Lavanyadevi

Author: Kusum Khemani (Translated from Hindi by Banibrata Mahanta)

Publisher: Orient BlackSwan Private Limited

Lavanyadevi is an award-winning 2013 novel by Kusum Khemani written in Hindi that chronicles five generations of a traditional aristocratic Bengali zamindar family as it transitions into modernity from British India to the present with the eponymous protagonist as its principal focus. Lavanyadevi—a compelling woman of perfection, extraordinary vision, qualities, and grace—remains real and credible because she is self-aware, self-critical, open to others, and to change. As a Marwari (people originally belonging to Marwar in Rajasthan) living in Kolkata, in Khemani’s fiction the schisms between ‘Bengali’ and ‘Marwari’ blur to reveal a delightfully plural, composite, and distinctively Indian ethos. Lavanyadevi is a story about women and their search for self, about shared laughter and friendships that endure across generations, beliefs and cultures—between mother and daughter, grandmother and granddaughter, and Marwari and Bengali women. Khemani’s women protagonists are strong, clear-sighted, both worldly and sublime, embodying a larger-than-life idealism while being grounded firmly in the everyday.

In his introduction to his novel Kanthapura (1938), Raja Rao had defined it as a sthala-purana[1], which he defined as a “legendary history” in which the old lady narrator in the village took recourse to the traditional Indian narrative technique, digressed at will to bring forth her point. Somehow the way Kusum Khemani takes recourse to multiple narrative techniques in Lavanyadevi and binds the different digressive stories and incidents into one contiguous whole when she tells us about the history of five generations of the Bengali zamindar family, reminds one of Raja Rao’s theory. She uses diverse narrative strategies like flashbacks, diaries, letters and emails, history, memory and the third person narrator to enrich its telling, lending it depth and range. A large part of the narrative revolves around telling us about past history when Lavanyadevi manages to lay her hands on her mother Jyotirmoyidevi’s diaries and finds great pleasure and thrill of reading one’s own family history. Not only do they offer a wonderful eye-witness account of the private and public sphere of Kolkata of those times, but they also make her easy transition into reading about her mother’s youth, her elaborate description of her magnificent wedding and the rituals that spread over almost a month.

The diary as metanarrative and the protagonist as reader/narrator are particularly effective, offering a telescopic perspective. Though at times it rambles a bit, the polyphonic structure of the novel engages Lavanyadevi the granddaughter, the daughter, the wife, the mother and the grandmother in conversations with her preceding and her succeeding generations. One must sometimes go back to the family tree and chart provided at the beginning of the novel to place people in proper perspective.

From the very beginning of the novel, Khemani portrays the character of Lavanyadevi in superlatives and this continues in different phases of her life till the end when she decides to remain incognito in the mountain ashram and yet control the lives of her descendants, well-wishers and others. From a child who always stood first in school and remained wholly ignorant of the real world, to her unusual marriage to a gentleman who moved over to Rangoon and then to London where she acquired many more degrees, till she came back to Kolkata, to rear her three children successfully, she seemed to excel in everything. This is how she is described at one place:

“Lavanyadevi was indefatigable. She administered the work of several institutions, her college and her home efficiently and with ease. She was never seen to panic. She was like Goddess Durga with her many hands – untiring in her zeal, handling all her duties unfailingly, responsibly and meticulously. No one could ever complain of being ignored by her. She loved all and treated everyone with the same degree of love and warmth. Scrupulous and hardworking, always upholding truth, Lavanyadevi was the unmatched standard of excellence in all aspects of life, her words worth their weight in gold.”

After judiciously assigning different welfare projects in the city as well as in far-flung places like Dhaka and the hills in Uttarkashi from the immense money she inherited from the family, and after her husband’s demise, Lavanyadevi decided it was time for her to leave the family premises and go and live in an ashram in the hills. There she did not stay in hibernation but her travels for work grew even more frenetic.

From the very beginning her rootedness and belief in the philosophical framework of Hinduism formed the core of her being. They propelled her to seek answers to questions of satya (truth) and mukti (liberation) that confronted her in the latter half of her life. She decided to transcend immediate personal concerns and address larger universal issues. Her transition from grihastha (householder) to sanyasa (renunciate) harkens back to the Hindu ideal of human life divided into four phases. However, contrary to the conception of life in isolation, Lavanyadevi, free of any kind of worldly considerations in this final phase of life, marshaled material and human resources to create a strong network of seva (social service) across the country and even beyond its borders. The list of her welfare schemes is too long to mention in the purview of this review, but ranged from renovating brothels in Kolkata’s red-light areas, creating self-help centres for rural women in Dhaka, de-addiction centres, eco-friendly schools in the hills, organic farming in South India, etc.

In the latter half of the novel, we find Lavanyadevi successfully transmitting her values and ideals to her children and grandchildren who are called the “Saptarshi Mandal friends” and who carry her legacy forward and emphasise that progress does not always mean breaking from the past. Here the novelist becomes too idealistic and brings in too many issues that seem a bit far-fetched. Issues of inter-caste and inter-religious relationships apart, the list of social welfare missions seems endless. Her “soul-children” unobtrusively usher in change and create space for diversity in relationships and ways of living. Harmonious cohabitation with nature became the foundational principle of all the education centres she built in the hills but the way she invisibly controls the activities of all her soldiers through emails and emphasises the middle path of life makes the advocacy of humanitarian concerns a bit overemphasised. She becomes larger than life for ideas and wish-fulfilment.

A Hindi novel about a Bengali family by a Marwari woman from Kolkata became significant when it was commissioned for translation into English. Winner of the PEN/Heim Translation Grant 2021, the jury called Lavanyadevi an ‘ambitious, far-reaching’ novel, lauding Khemani’s ‘energetic prose, deadpan sense of humor, and exquisite control’, and Banibrata Mahanta’s translation that ‘stretches and manipulates language to produce a vivid text’ and a must-read for lovers of Indian literature. Here one needs to mention the seriousness with which Mahanta gives us the ‘Translator’s Introduction’ at the beginning of the text and again ‘Translator’s Note’ at the end. This reviewer feels that both these could have been combined into one general essay highlighting the significance of the evolution of the Marwaris in Bengal, how Khemani’s novel is a hybrid artefact born out of multiple linguistic and cultural encounters, how the characters in the novel speak in languages other than Hindi produces dialogues in Bangla, Marwari, Haryanvi or Punjabi; and how between a breezy translation and a linguistically nuanced one, wherever possible the translator has eschewed the former and gone for the latter. As he rightly admits, translating this complex narrative into global or even a pan-Indian English is always risky, but Mahanta should be given due credit for overcoming all obstacles and bringing this immensely readable novel to a wide readership.

.

[1] Ancillory texts to Puranic literature

Somdatta Mandal, critic, academic and translator, is a former Professor of English at Visva-Bharati University, Santiniketan, India.

PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles

Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Amazon International

Categories
Review

No Man’s an Island

Book Review by Jagari Mukherjee

Title: Oneness

Author: Kiriti Sengupta

Publisher: Transcendent Zero Press

Oneness by Kiriti Sengupta, an established writer and publisher, is the paean of a poet in love with life. This thin volume has the gorgeousness of a Rajasthani miniature: The poems are accompanied by colourful paintings by Pintu Biswas and Samir Mondal. The artwork adds to the magic of the experience that is Oneness. Exploring the pieces, the reader, too, is drawn by the poet into embracing life like an affectionate lover who accepts the highs and lows of our existence or a relationship. The bright tapestry (literal and metaphorical) presented in the little tableau of a book entrances us to appreciate the romance of oneness in the midst of our teeming variety of happenings over time.

The title “Oneness” recalls to mind John Donne’s[1] immortal sermon, delivered after he healed from a prolonged bout of illness, titled ‘No Man is an Island’. Donne’s illness was so severe that he was considered to be on his deathbed, but defying all odds, he survived. And, then, he wrote:

No man is an island,
Entire of itself;
Every man is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.

Oneness is a celebration of life as much as the start of ‘No Man is an Island’. It expresses an all-encompassing love for other human beings, the realisation that the hues of blood, joys and griefs are same for everyone, that death and sorrow are common to all. Oneness is an eternal feeling captured well in this collection.

Oneness homes haikus, short verses and prose poems. The haikus reflect profoundness with the brevity of words, typical of Sengupta’s style. For instance:

full moon
across the landscape
fireflies.

One would imagine a dark night sky and a full, flowery golden moon, illuminating the black landscape and the pinpricks of lights from the insects. Instead, the accompanying artwork surprises with a canvas awash in swirling cobalt blues a large blazing red moon, and fireflies like bright flames. It forms an interesting contrast.

Some haikus are beautiful and poignant with subtle decadent sadness:

the post box
recedes to rust
the lost art

A post box is part of the past in the twenty-first century with the advent of online communication. The painting shows a cherry-red post box, with two crows frequenting the scene. The crows, presumably, communicate with each other at the site of the letterbox. The visual and the art bring to mind Donne’s lines, “Any man’s death diminishes me / Because I am involved in mankind”. Perhaps there is a need to mourn the metaphorical death of letter writing, a form of genuine, soulful exchange which would wean away from loneliness and the impersonality of online interactions.

Taking other poems into consideration, it is difficult to choose favourites. In ‘Primordial Leaning’, Sengupta begins with an assertive statement, compelling the reader to accept that they define women as Durga or Kali. The rest of the poem intersperses questions and one more statement. The poet questions the attitude adopted by ‘pop feminists’  to ask whether it is ‘kind’ to compare women to these warrior goddesses, and should men, in turn, behave like Shiva, who is the Destroyer in the Hindu Trinity. It is an interesting take that would be of great value to scholars of Gender and Masculinity Studies. There are no easy answers to this interrogative, but Sengupta packs in a punch in his fiery inimitable style.

You define women as Durga
or Kali. Are you a believer? Are you
being kind? You could have convinced
them to fight the evil.
Instead, when you imply the goddess,
do you illustrate
sisterhood with many limbs? Would you
like men to act as Shiva—the destroyer?

The poem ‘Tenure: Early Years’ asserts that one never outgrows one’s early life when he or she is around a parent. Even when the child becomes an adult, a guardian keeps the memories of their wards’ childhood alive through stories and reminiscences. Thus, for a parent, juvenescence lasts forever.

What role do guardians play
when their wards grow up?
They feed lived experiences,
keep childhood alive.
Juvenescence spans the length
of the parent’s life.

In ‘Separation’, man and nature experience alienation, a state prevalent in postmodern times. However, in the artwork facing the poem, the “worn-out tree” is the reflection of the narrator. Perhaps it is a case of pathetic fallacy where nature echoes the loneliness faced by twenty-first century man. Yet, one can always ask: are trees and men, thus, not united in their separation from the rest of the kaleidoscope?

Only a little needs to be invested
in sketching the worn-out tree.
A charcoal or two, canvas, and span.
I place myself amid the landscape
to explain the prevailing isolation.

John Donne’s sermon ends with the idea of the inevitability of Death: “And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;/ It tolls for thee.” The poems in Oneness, on the other hand, create an eternal algorithm of the unity and universality of human existence. Each written piece, with its companion artwork, form an unforgettable vignette; each is a resplendent unveiling of the beauty and truth of life.

.

[1] John Donne (1572-1631), major poet of metaphysical school

.

Jagari Mukherjee is the Editor-in-chief of Narrow Road Literary Journal and the Chief Executive Editor of EKL Review. Jagari has three full-length poetry collections and two chapbooks and a bestselling ebook to her credit.

PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles

Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Amazon International

Categories
Review

The Bookshop Woman

Book Review by Aditi Yadav

Title: The Bookshop Woman

Author: Nanako Hanada

Translator: Cat Anderson

Publisher: Brazen

There is a unique charm around books that talk of books and bookstores. Nanako Hanada’s The Bookshop Woman is an honest and touching memoir where she recounts and reflects on real life incidents that transpired in the rock-bottom phase of her life. Seamlessly translated from the Japanese by Cat Anderson, the narrative opens on a certain night in January 2013, with a distraught Nanako sitting listless and dejected in a restaurant at 2 a.m. in Yokohama. She had parted ways with her husband, and moved out of their flat. Living out of a suitcase, she moves through cheap hotels and public bathhouses, like a homeless drifter with an uncertain future.

Nanako is a manager at a branch of  Village Vanguard, a bookshop chain. She is depressed with the thought that there’s a lot lacking in her life. However, as we flip through the pages, we see the resilient side of Nanako. She intends to rise above the mess and her depression. She learns to walk with her head held high without feeling sorry for herself. She moves into a cramped apartment near Yokohama station, and also happens to join a new social networking site, the ‘Perfect Strangers’, which provides dating services. She embarks on her ‘Perfect Strangers’ journey with a profile that reads, “I’m the manager of a very unusual bookshop. I have access to huge database of over ten thousand books, and I’ll recommend the one that’s perfect for you.” Although a trivial trend of the modern times, joining this new virtual platform proved a turning point in Nanako’s life.

Through several encounters with random strangers, Nanako discovers a world beyond her broken relationship and self doubt. Meeting new people puts her social skills to test and starts her on a journey of self-discovery. She learns to open up without being over-conscious of herself. In the larger picture, she understands that accepting changes in life is the right way to embrace it. The discussions that Nanako holds with people provide insight into the conditions of the modern day world and human relationships. However, through the eyes of Nanako, Tokyo which “had only felt cold and inhospitable” turns interesting beyond her dreams when she just “tried opening! What freedom there was here!” , and all she wanted to do with this freedom was to introduce more people to new books.

Meanwhile, as the manager of the Village Vanguard, she passionately continues to do her best, innovating with selling strategies and tending to her customers. She gradually learns to “discern what was special about books that perhaps didn’t look so promising at first, and to distil their charm in words”.  She talks of the ‘joy of bookselling’ and gives a first-hand account of the challenges of her business. Nanako introduces readers to a host of books through the recommendations she offers during her Perfect Stranger sessions. There is even an appendix in the book that provides more details about these recommendations.

Experimenting with her ideas, Nanako also holds book jam sessions where people come over at a designated spot at an assigned time and share about their favourite books. These book jam sessions humbled her, as she realises that she had hitherto been ‘slightly condescending’ in recommending new books to people. This realisation transforms her outlook immensely.

Weaving through myriads of book suggestions and social meet-ups, Nanako evolves as a person and finds her footing in the real world. Even in the professional sphere she follows her heart and makes changes that resonate with her personal evolution. Her love for books and devotion to bookselling make her empathetic to the extent that she “would inadvertently get a glimpse of something deep in a person’s heart”.

Within a year of that dreary lonesome night in Yokohama, life comes a full circle for Nanako. As a result of her adventures and experiments, she finds peace within herself. Her divorce gets amicably finalised and she even quits the virtual platform to immerse herself in the natural flow of the delightful world she’d discovered — one full of meaningful human connections, friendships, the warmth of books and bookstores. We see Nanako wondering about the day when someone else would pick her books and recommend it to others, triggering an infinite loop– such is the power of books that turns drifters into trendsetters and dreams into reality. The book is indeed a must read to discover this incredible power and reaffirm one’s faith in resilience of human spirit!

Aditi Yadav is an amateur writer from India. She is also a South Asia Speaks fellow (2023). Her works appear in Rain Taxi Review, EKL Review, Usawa Literary Review, Gulmohur Quarterly, Narrow Road Journal, Borderless Journal and the Remnant Archive.

.

PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles

Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Kindle Amazon International