She looked out of the window. Her hands clasped firmly on the grills. Black worn-out flakes stuck on her fingers as she tightly held on to the iron railings. The cacophony of children playing in the adjacent playground drowned all other sounds. She searched herself among them, but she knew she could no more be [...]
Written by Shreya Datta | Saturday, June 7, 2008
Jhumpa Lahiri’s credentials as a writer are definitely one to be praised of. Her very first venture, “Interpreter of Maladies” was a saga of Indian Americans and their identity crisis in the face of two different cultures that they had to adapt themselves to over times. The book published in 2000 won the very prestigious [...]
Written by Shreya Datta | Friday, May 23, 2008
Bijli was hungry. Very hungry. The weather was depressing. It had been raining incessantly since the morning and the storm that thrashed the village the previous night had almost robbed them of their roof. Them, Rasik, Bijli his wife and their daughter Minu. And also the cow in the cowshed, which now lay in the form [...]
Written by Shreya Datta | Tuesday, May 6, 2008
I remember the first time I laid my hands on this book. It was a gift from my grandma and I can recall still that I didn’t have very high expectations. The author was an unknown name and it was his first novel and I was quite apprehensive that being a highly temperamental reader, there [...]
Written by Shreya Datta | Tuesday, May 6, 2008
“Bangles…multicolored bangles ….new stone setting bangles…at very low prices…take a dozen and get half a dozen free.” Her rhythmic voice echoed in every nook and corner of the small village. She was Rangoli. Her tone penetrated every village household on a regular basis as morning descended. She carried a basket full of glass bangles, in [...]
Written by Shreya Datta | Monday, April 21, 2008
The door opened up to her with an eerie cracking sound. She jerked and halted for a second. A withered and discolored curtain hung on one side of the entrance. The darkness around her echoed a touch of gloom and a sense of suffocation which she thought would choke her. Still she clutched on to [...]
Written by Shreya Datta | Sunday, April 13, 2008
He had been pestering me for a while. Tugging my branded shirt, pulling at my sleeves, he continued to follow every movement of mine. Twice I tried to brush him off, but he seemed unperturbed. He pursued me with great enthusiasm and mumbled under his breath, “A few more. Please give me a few more.” I [...]
Written by Shreya Datta | Monday, April 7, 2008
Deserted roads lead to the hidden city Where blurred images float; Submerged memories gone astray, Mystic odors of frozen carcass, Shades of grey rule the vignettes of yore. Haunted tombs of emaciated beings Desperately struggle to inhale But are eluded by the spirit of life.
Written by Shreya Datta | Friday, April 4, 2008
(1) The first hues of the rising sun fell on the landscape. For this small village stationed beside a turbulent stream flowing down the sloping valley, the golden red rays of the sun were greeted by the children’s loud prayers. Their teacher recited along with them as their collective voices drowned in the cradle of the [...]
Written by Shreya Datta | Saturday, August 16, 2008
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