Author: Gayatri Majumdar, Sekhar Banerjee & Gopal Lahiri
Page: 120
ISBN: 978-93-84216-05-4 (Paperback)
Edition: (2022)
Price: ₹ 300 INR
Published by Brown Critique Books
Reviewed by: Sutanuka Ghosh Roy
When a creative journey of three poets
unfolds in a retrospective, its poetic resonance lingers. Edited by Gayatri
Majumdar, Sekhar Banerjee, and Gopal Lahiri, The Brown Critique Home Anthology includes works of fifty poets
from home and the world. The volume excavates the concept of ‘home’ through a
contemporary lens. As goes the popular saying ‘home is where the heart is. A cozy
corner in a room or a hot cup of tea at the end of the day or a smile on the
aged lips of a mother makes up the home.
The introductory poem “When my Breath
becomes Air” sets the tune, Abhay K. writes “don’t care/ to build a shrine/
read my poems/ I live in them/ they’re my home”. In “The Voice” Amanita Sen
redefines home as the primary
connection between us and the rest of the world. She writes, “hold on
to, cuddle, be lost into it, / be lost unto it to be found again, like/ it is
not merely a voice, but a form”. Aneek Chatterjee delves into the sense of ‘homelessness’
that can perhaps be attributed to the distance—of realities, class,
lifestyles—that separates the poet from the subject, “Shattered railings on the
footpath/ are perfect shelters for amused clothes. & the rice boils in
tandem/ with the anger & anguish of the lady” (“Home”). In “Tonight” Anu
Majumdar has keyed in visual narratives in a colourful, animated, and
innovative manner “but tonight I am still/ a wave in the heart/ a feather grown
free”. Anju Makhija In “Sometimes it is a bird” writes of dark thoughts for the
mind to battle as the concept of ‘home’ is becoming illusive. “Why then/ Must
we still remain/ So human?” Ayaz Rasool Nazki is “In Search” “of my home/ in the rubble/ Of memories/
Among the debris / Of time”. Thus he makes it clear that ‘home’ is an idea, a social construct, a narrative
we tell ourselves about who we are and who and what we want closest in our
midst. In “This Dark House” Basudhara Roy further explicates this idea. She
writes that there is no place like home because home is not a place. “The house
looks different all the time, they whisper. / I tell them it is growing
steadily each day. / They are bewildered”.
“Home could be a place with
no walls; a place of unimaginable horror, a room without a view or emptiness
without belonging”. This is echoed by Candice Louisa Daquin “but when night
pulls her skirts down and darkness envelops/ the quiet, I wonder how/ anyone
survives/ a home without/ you”. In “Elegy on the Way Home” Dustin Pickering
writes about a sense of alienation and purposelessness, thus providing us with
an alternative concept of ‘home’, “after the initial shock of the fall,/ i
looked where i landed/ but,/ like Icarus,/ I was alone to suffer my fear…”
“Dasvidaniya” in the Russian language means ‘until (the next) meeting”. Gayatri
Majumdar goes down the memory lane “ Remember the forked-tongue propaganda/ at
home those days?—Hissing static blue 45 rpms-/ while Soviet clouds, gorgeous
folk dancers/ floating about our rooms; Span,
Vogue from America?” and brings a chunk of the yester years in an evocative
manner. Perhaps the entire idea of ‘home’ is metamorphosed. Nostalgia casts a
spell as one reads Gopal Lahiri’s “One Evening” where “in break of day, at
least one evening you feel/ home is only a white pillow, a murphy radio,/ an
old wall-clock and those blue white rubber slippers”. Thus the poet has
interpreted the theme of ‘home’ in a variety of ways including the physical
characteristics.
Jagari
Mukherjee has an altogether different take on ‘home’. “My room is a poem/
written in a garbage can./ My double-bed is a library/ of books and handmade
diaries/ that have stone-embedded magic covers”. The city of Bombay has
ensnared Kavita Ezekiel Mendonca as she feels the pulse of the city every day :
“This is the city that haunts me day and night/ This is the city of darkness
and light. / This is the city with the octopus arms/ It has me ensnared forever
with all its charms!” A pair of birds find a home in an empty house while the
rightful owners were away “just a week”. Once the owners came in the bird
couple gave them “jaded looks/ Like old men at a village chaupal”, Lina
Krishnan thus weaves a story in “Bulbul”. Megha Sood on the other hand has
“called many places home/ I have yet to make one though” (“I have called many
places home”). Raja Chakraborty’s “Whitewash” is a layered, cerebral exploration
of the concept of ‘home’. “Only memories knew it was a place where they/ could
forget themselves, in quiet arrogance of a / whitewashed past”.
“Yet, it can always be argued that Home is not always a sanctuary of hopes
and dreams, an abode for peace and tranquility,” as echoed in Robin Ngangom’s
“My Invented Land” where he writes, “My home is a gun/ pressed against both
temples/ a knock on a night that has not ended”. “With constant reminders to
stay home since the pandemic hit this planet nearly two years ago” this volume
delves deeper into the very concept of what constitutes a home. Sanjeev Sethi’s “Home Truth” is a reminder of the dark eerie
days of Covid-19, “when I realize there is no call, no email. / C-19 hasn’t
revived us. / The whirligig of wooing is behind me. / I’m home-bound”. As one
reads Sekhar Banerjee’s “In a Gooseberry Forest”, “Now I don’t know who is
lost./ It might be you, / the moon or all of us; / Home is never a mutual
world’; one understands that ‘home’ is perhaps more than a physical domain, it
is a psychological/imaginary concept. Sharmila Ray writes, “home” is a
manuscript framed, beaten out of/ love spent and unspent…” Thus these modernist
poems with their unique identities and idiosyncrasies look at ‘home’ through an
up-to-date lens.
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