Arunava Sinha's Blog, page 2
March 20, 2017
Shardulshundori: Sirsho Bandyopadhyay
Singapore, 1920: Curtain Call Priyanath was slowly sinking into the quicksand. The deep yellow mass of sand had the tight consistency of mud. The dense, impenetrable, yellow… Read more "Shardulshundori: Sirsho Bandyopadhyay"
February 16, 2017
Fire of my reverence: Shakti Chattopadhyay
Fire of my reverence Incinerate me First, torch the two feet that can no longer move Then the hands which hold no love or order today Now icebergs of flowers in the crook of the arms No more responsibility settling on the shoulders Burn them in proximity to life Stop a moment, then destroy The […]
June 18, 2016
From ‘Mahanadi’: by Anita Agnihotri
Flowing out of the Hirakud reservoir, the Mahanadi flows south for some distance, through Sambalpur and then to Suvarnapur or Sonpur, before turning eastward towards the Buddhist district, passing the hills and forests of Tikarpara and going on to Nayagadh district, and finally to the sea through the plains of Kendrapara and Jagatsinghpur, which are […]
May 29, 2016
Every Sunday: Binod Ghoshal
Oooh, how scared I was at first, god! Don’t blame me, OK? Isn’t everyone a little scared on their first plane ride? When the plane suddenly left the ground and zoomed into the sky, I shrank back in fear and grabbed his hand tightly. I had taken the window seat so that I could look […]
March 1, 2016
Mahesh: Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyay
I The village was named Kashipur. An insignificant village, with an even more insignificant zamindar, but such was his authority that you could not hear a peep… Read more "Mahesh: Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyay"
June 28, 2015
In Diamond Harbour with Ruby: Sandipan Chatterjee
For four years now Ruby has been asking to go to Diamond Harbour. And I’ve resisted. The woman Ruby calls Bashona-di goes there. I’ve never been to Diamond Harbour. I’ve heard that the mouth of the river is not far away. I’ve heard that if you stand on the roof of any of the houses, […]
April 27, 2015
Stone: Mandakranta Sen
Your breast is like stone, you’re a man Let me lie on it, I want to lie on it I’ve rubbed my mouth on stone, such a terrible wound On my lips How shameless the wound is, it refuses to heal It doesn’t want to hide its face It’s an ugly sight, but still it […]
March 8, 2015
Words: Premendra Mitra
Even afterwards there are things to say After it has rained Like the soil-smeared smell of a wet cool wind, Blurred, like clouds Who knows whether they’re words Or a trembling vibrant silence I shall not say these things to her In pauses between the determination and effort to survive My astonished heart Tells itself […]
January 12, 2015
Tunnu’s Computer: by Debarati Mitra
Dorothy Smith of South Africa had set my data Whether I’m woman or man, creature or matter She alone knows I am alive, though I even think of myself as a woman I was placed inside A Blue G royal faber machine Then, bouncing between places I’m in Tunnu’s hands now Tunnu skips her classes […]
November 25, 2014
Cellphone Poetry #45: Nirmalendu Goon
A storm springs up with scudding clouds In the forest flowers bloom I’ll be married, set up home A bride’s been found and I’m the groom I escape at the auspicious hour To distant London, to this room Let nature’s spirits go to hell At least the girl’s been saved
