Showing posts with label Radha Chakravarty. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Radha Chakravarty. Show all posts

Special Edition: Radha Chakravarty

Radha Chakravarty
The Forest Watches

the watchful forest observes the passing train
and catches, through a fleeting window pane
a desperate face pressed against the glass, a hand
craving to touch the strangeness of the wilds
so close yet so infinitely out of reach
***


Eye of Fire

blazing sun 
raging storms
flaming forests 
collapsing mountains
drowning cities
rising tides—
we read the portents 
see the signs 
of divine fury manifest
as your third eye
eye of knowledge
eye of fire 
flies open in sacred ire
penetrating the deepest truth 
foreseeing the fatal future 
of our world spinning beyond control
poised to swiftly self-destruct

Special Edition: Radha Chakravarty

Radha Chakravarty
Singed

wings singed by fire
moth heart still aflutter
for the flame
***

Silent stories

lingering inscriptions
on memory’s skin 
scars tell silent stories
of battles fought
resilience
survival
and wounds that healed
***

Review of Gossips of Our Surrogate Story by Rajorshi Patranabis

Title:
Gossips of Our Surrogate Story
Author: Rajorshi Patranabis
Genre: Poetry
Publisher: Hawakal Publishers
Place and Date of Publication: New Delhi, 2025
ISBN: 978-81-19858-80-4 (HB) and 978-81-19858-85-9 (PB)
Pages: 139
Price:  500 INR

Reviewer: Radha Chakravarty

 

Review:

          Gossips of our Surrogate Story (Hawakal, 2025), Rajorshi Patranabis’s latest book, resurrects the myth of the ancient Egyptian god Osiris and his undying love for goddess Isis, from whom he has been forever separated. Through a series of brief but power-packed prose poems, we hear the voice of Osiris affirming his passionate conviction that their love will triumph over adversity.

Rajorshi has already carved a niche for himself in short-form creative writing. With eleven volumes of poetry in print, he has established his reputation as a poet committed to experiments with genre, especially ghazals, sonnets, haiku, haibun and gogyoka. The Last Drop of Your Tears, published in 2023, is the first volume of gogyoka in English by an Indian. Checklist Anomaly (2023), likewise, is the first collection of gogyoshi published by an Indian poet. Rajosrshi is also a practising translator, with a multilingual sensibility. His own poetry has been translated into Assamese and Hindi translations are also in the pipeline. Interestingly, Rajorshi is a food consultant by profession. Perhaps that has something to do with the bold textures, intense nuances and colourful flavours that characterize his writing.

          In the Preface to Gossips of our Surrogate Story, Rajorshi asserts his faith in Wicca, an occult philosophy dating back thousands of years, and based on worship of the Mother Goddess. The word “witch”, he tells us, derives from “Wik”, meaning ‘wise”.  He uses the myth of Isis, ancient Egyptian goddess of the moon and wife of Osiris, god of the realm of the dead. Isis, goddess of magic, is also associated with emotions and the soul. She is the sacred mother of all mothers. Osiris inhabits the multidimensional domain of life after death. In the traditional story, Osiris, destroyed by Nut and Set, is resurrected by Isis with the consent of the sun god Ra, on condition that he will preside over the world of darkness. The prose poems in this collection bring to life the voice of Osiris, declaring his eternal love for Isis, despite the distance that separates them.

          Paradox becomes the defining feature of this fateful relationship. It is the cycle of death and life that sustains the passion of Osiris for Isis. “I live to be slaughtered again”, he declares (9). Distance, rather than proximity, fuels his love. “I desire an irreversible life in a garb of death” (38); “I fail to hold you close, and you, to stay away” (82); “We unite in estrangements” (121). Ra, the sun god in Egyptian myth, stands as a figure of opposition to be defied in this journey of impossible love. “Ra is old and tired and needs rest. … There is a deep embrace before the old man wakes up from his forgotten eclipse” (13). The path of passion is full of agony. Both lovers are permanently wounded. “She bleeds secretly. … She carries every broken piece with her through broken portals. Pain never deserts” (21).

          In his approach to Wicca, Rajorshi declares himself a seeker rather than a believer. Perhaps it is the underlying quest motif that lends such profound urgency to Osiris’ words. For his utterances explore what it can mean for a lover to eternally walk the thin line between desire and despair. “I fast to attain your prayers of a dream, smelling like this drizzle –drops that ignite hope,” Osiris declares (138). Absence and distance are pivotal to Osiris’ passion for Isis. The story belongs to a distinctive mythology that differs from similar narratives in Indian myth “Behula is not my Isis” Osiris asserts. “She stays with him forever. I remain away from my Isis. We live, we love” (11). The ancient narrative of Isis and Osiris is resurrected as an evocation of long-distance love and unrequited desire that is at once timeless and contemporary, remote and exotic, yet infused with powerful immediacy. This timeless, death-defying love is projected in cosmic dimensions: “From my dark world, I wait for a sunrise inside your eyes. I was yours, when love was first painted in ether” (95).

          The expression of this extraordinary love seems to demand a vocabulary of its own. For the language in which Osiris articulates his desire is individual, stylized, as mysterious as it is mystical, with its own unique resonance and imagery. “My love is yellow,” he declares, “burning in your blue mustard clouds, bleeding in red through your lunar lips, thwarting the feeble ignitions of our immortal spring. “My love is a rainbow, painted in translucence” (93). In places, the effect of this style is mesmerizing, almost hallucinatory.

          Rajorshi’s fascination for formal experiment is evident in his willingness to cross generic boundaries and adopt the mode of the prose-poem. This enables him to break free of formal constraints, combining the lyrical, emotive elements of poetry with the potentially more fluid freedom of prose. The individual pieces are brief, intense and condensed, but each has its own place in the long, continuous narrative of Osiris’ deathless, lonely love for his absent beloved. Trapped in the realm of darkness, Osiris asserts his conviction that love will prove victorious in the end. His dream of reunion culminates in an affirmation of faith in his beloved’s steadfastness, and in the power of love, articulated in the haunting, incantatory prayer: “Tua Anset”—“you’re the Isis I know”.


Radha Chakravarty

Radha Chakravarty

Radha Chakravarty is a poet, critic and translator. Her latest books include Subliminal: Poems, Mahasweta Devi: Writer, Activist, Visionary and Kazi Nazrul Islam: Selected Essays. She has over 20 books to her credit, including translations of major Bengali writers such as Rabindranath Tagore, Bankimchandra Chatterjee, Kazi Nazrul Islam and Mahasweta Devi, and critical studies of Tagore, women’s writing and gender issues. She has edited several anthologies of South Asian writing, and co-edited the The Essential Tagore, nominated Book of the Year 2011. She was Professor of Comparative Literature and Translation Studies at Dr. B. R. Ambedkar University Delhi


Special Edition: Radha Chakravarty

Radha Chakravarty
Aftertaste

aftertaste of endings 
linger 
on memory’s palate
languorous 
as dark chocolate
delicious
sinful
mingled flavours
melting in the mouth —
sweet bliss
bitter betrayals 
salt tears
laced with longings
for lost things
***


A winter without leaves

autumn’s falling leaves
tremble in dying ecstasy
as they bid farewell
to warm summer sun
after the sweet songs of spring

trees shiver, bare-branched,
hoarding in their hollows
fragments of lost seasons,
melange of mellow memories
to seed tomorrow’s budding dream,
bracing, now, for bitter cold,
a winter without leaves
***

Review: Subliminal, how simple experiences grow in meaning

Book: Subliminal

Poet: Radha Chakravarty

Published by: Hawakal Publishers

ISBN: 978-8119858316

Radha Chakravarty’s debut poetry collection, Subliminal, invites readers into a world where the small and seemingly mundane objects of life are infused with profound meaning. It examines, with keen attention, the routine and minutiae of everyday life, bringing to our notice what is often overlooked. Her introspective style allows for a delicate exploration of personal experiences, nudging us to find the beauty and complexity hidden in the mundane.

“With invisible hypnotic force,

Like Pied Piper’s magic flute,

They draw us to the glittering river’s edge

Where illusion beckons and lures us in,

Until, entranced, we take the plunge

And drown in the depths our own desire.”

Radha Chakravarty

These lines from the title poem Subliminal (Hawakal Publishers), tucked in the middle of the book, capture the essence of the collection: the poet encourages us to look beyond appearances and delve into the depths of our core. While the poems can be read easily in one sitting, returning to them allows readers to appreciate their ambiguity and engage more deeply with their layered meanings.

The poems in this collection highlight the contrast between surface impressions and the underlying truths that lie beneath. The theme of appearance versus reality recurs throughout her poems as we journey through the pages of her book. It is clear from the very first poem Memories of Loss where the poet reflects on beautiful moments that conceal deeper, painful stories.

“In the hiss of logs in fire,

The sighing of wood in vanished trees

In the butterfly’s bold, bright wings,

The trace of silken cocoon dreams

In the cracked, patched earth,

The yearning for a lost monsoon.’

Chaitali Sengupta

Chakravarty's collection is rich with women-centred poems that explore themes of voice, freedom, body, and desire. Poems like Designs in Kantha, River/Woman, That Girl, The Homecoming delve into the legacies of our foremothers, the ‘rustle’ of their ‘sari aanchal, whispering a lifetime of stories, entwined in the still shining threads.’ (Legacy) The poems subtly reveal the profundity hidden in the seemingly banal and ubiquitous scenes of everyday life for traditional Bengali women.

In her poem The Casket of Secret Stories, Chakravarty conjures the image of quintessential Bengali women who hold the paaner bata-bell metal casket, once filled with their grandmother's gossip—spicy rumors of desire, heartbreak, longing, and loss. This casket contained rolled lime-smeared paan, betel leaf flavored with supuri, lavanga, elaach, and sometimes a dash of dokta, forbidden tobacco laden with sin. The poem captures a mouthwatering ritual, a daily rite of chewing with relish upon the secret morsels of women's inner lives, revealing the rich tapestry of their experiences and emotions. Through her nuanced observations, Chakravarty transforms ordinary moments into reflections of strength, resilience, and rich emotional landscapes. The lines from Designs in Kantha bear witness to this.

‘Years of laughter, heartache, bliss,

Tears and yearning, rage, despair-

worked by artful needle into

guileless fictions of innocence,

Pure and tender baby love.’

In this beautiful collection, Chakravarty delves into the lives of women from Indian mythology, creating some of her most powerful poems. Her tone is nostalgic, yet the figures of Ahalya, Sita, and Khana—the legendary Bengali woman astrologer—are portrayed with strength, resilience, and an astonishing spirit. In her poem, Ahalya’s Awakening Ahalya reflects poignantly, saying,

‘No one heard my silent screams.

None heeded my wordless plea

when I tried to set the story right.

Year after year, age after age,

with the patience of a rock, I waited...

But only to find that for women,

even in this new, fast-advancing world,

not much has really changed.’

These lines compel us to pause and recognize that, even today, women are often still expected to serve as faceless support. Chakravarty’s lines invite us to reflect inward and compel us to consider the ongoing struggles that women still endure for recognition and identity, challenging us to confront these enduring inequalities.

One of the most intriguing aspects of her book is her experimentation with challenging poetic forms, including Fibonacci poems, Skinnies, and sonnets.

The themes of displacement, violence, and loss resonate deeply in Chakravarty's work. She crafts a poignant narrative about relocation after partition of India and the intense yearning for belonging in poems like Borderlines and Refugee. Through her evocative rhymes, she explores the complex emotional experiences of those uprooted from their homes, navigating the intricate landscape of identity and longing for a sense of home. Here are a few lines from her poem Borderlines-

‘Now, barbed wire cuts the land

In two, splicing lives and loves, tearing

Memories into shreds of pain.

Where grass once grew, hate has taken root,

The green earth stained red with rage and blood.’

In contrast to such distress and disconnection, Chakravarty longs for peace ‘that descends with a sudden shower of rain, greening the earth after a drought. (Peace Process, reminding us of Tagore's timeless lines from his song Borisho Dhora Majhe Santiro Bani. She describes a peace that arrives unexpectedly, amidst ‘the noise and bustle, sweat and blood, wear and tear of everyday lives.’ This yearning captures her desire for tranquillity to break through the chaos of existence, the rising hatred dividing humanity and nations.

Poems like Pandemic in Delhi, Another Exodus, 2020 and Message in a Bottle are crafted during the bleak period of COVID-19, reflecting the harsh realities of that time. Through their poignant imagery and themes, these works capture the feelings of isolation, loss, and uncertainty that permeated daily life during the pandemic, offering a profound commentary on the struggles faced by individuals and communities.

Chakravarty’s simple words make her poetry accessible to all readers. Her remarkable collection gently studies how simple experiences grow in meaning.


Bio Note: Chaitali Sengupta writes and translates fiction, poetry, non-fiction. Her latest book “The Crossings-poems on war, migration & survival received Runners-Up award in the London Book Festival 2024. She earned the ‘Honourable Mention’ award at the New England Book Festival (2021) for her debut prose poems collection, “Cross Stitched Words,”. Her expertise in translation is evident in her notable work, “Timeless Tales in Translation,” which received the special jury award at the Panorama International Literature Festival (2023) & Suprabha & Santiranjan Sengupta award (2024).

Nadistuti: Poems by Lakshmi Kannan

Title: Nadistuti: Poems
Author: Lakshmi Kannan
Publisher: Authors Press
Place and Date of Publication: New Delhi, 2024
Pages: 102
Price: ₹ 495 INR / $ 25 USD
ISBN: 978-93-5529-939-0

Book Review: Radha Chakravarty


At a telling moment in Nadistuti, Lakshmi Kannan’s latest book of poems, a petulant ocean asks the poet: “But tell me, it seems you write more about rivers?” (44).  This book is a powerful testament to the primacy of rivers in the Indian imagination, charting a narrative of constant becoming. The epigraph, from Khalil Gibran’s “The River Cannot Go Back”, asserts the centrality of this theme, which flows through the entire collection like a riverine network: “it’s not about disappearing into the ocean, / but of becoming the ocean.”

Radha Chakravarty

A reputed bilingual writer who publishes in English and Tamil (as Kaaveri), Lakshmi Kannan straddles different linguistic and cultural worlds. She is the author of several books, including The Glass Bead Curtain (Vitasta 2020, 2016), Guilt Trip and Other Stories and Sipping the Jasmine Moon (2019.  The present volume brings together several strands in her work. The title Nadistuti invokes the sacredness of rivers in Indian culture, drawing upon the Rig Veda hymn from Nadistuti Sukta.  Though the title carries a religious aura, there is in fact a remarkable versatility in Kannan’s figurative use of rivers to bridge the gap between spiritual, social, geographical and mythological frames of reference. Through wry wit, irony, allusion and graphic imagery, the poems challenge stereotypical ways of thinking. Like Kannan’s other writings, they express a strong feminist perspective and a concern for the less privileged members of society.   

“Naman”, the first of five sections, recalls the devastation caused by the Covid pandemic. The opening poem “On the Slopes of Shanaracharya”, is dedicated to the memory of the late Dr. H. K. Kaul, much loved former President of the Poetry Society of India. “Vasundhara’s Last Journey” and “Meditative Mother” use the figure of woman to recapture the horrors of the pandemic. The theme of the pandemic recurs in “14 April, 2020 (Tamil New Year)” from the fourth section, “Mandalas”.

“Nadistuti”, the second section, focuses on the seven rivers sacred to Vedic topography—Narmade which marks the boundary between North and South India and must be “invoked first” before a holy dip, Sindhu who “birthed a nation”, Kaveri “the mighty”, Godavari, where “[t]he waters connect”, Sarasvati “the invisible river”, Gange, “river of hope”, and Yamuna, associated with “[t]he blue God”.  In Kannan’s poems, rivers flow across landscapes that are geographical, temporal but also psychological. The voices of individual rivers come alive. In “Small Beginnings” for instance, we hear Talkaveri: “Now I must flow out/ to grow into the mighty Kaveri, / nothing can stop me. Nothing.” The prose-poem “Ponni Looks Back”, an interesting formal experiment, presents river Kaveri, channelling the flow of collective memory through changing times: “I am a mother linking all the peoples of the land that I washed.”  The rivers are women, excepting Brahmaputra, “the only son”. In “Aarti” and “Visarjan”, the inexorable flow of time arouses a poignant awareness of death as a change of state. An ironic counterpoint persists, though, in the section’s title poem “Nadistuti”, where a man chants ritual prayers during his holy bath while worrying about the erratic water supply in his home.

“Chamundi”, the third section, foregrounds Kannan’s feminist spirit. “Anger Becomes Her” questions the stereotype of the angel in the house: “So much anger/ is not proper for a girl”. The rebellious young woman is seen as “Kali, fury personified”. “Hemavati” highlights the “half-hearted welcome” accorded to the newborn girl child, who nevertheless defiantly “flowed out/in search of their mother, Kaveri”. “Basant Panchami” asserts women’s right to education. “Snake Woman” uses dreams and superstition to expose social prejudice against the girl child. The male child, named Nagaraja or Serpent King, “hissed at his mother who fed him, / bared his fangs at his father/ and spewed venom”, while his sister becomes a snake woman, sloughing off dead skin, evolving and outgrowing herself. “Swivel Stool” uses the images of swing, swivel stool and rocking chair to celebrate women’s subversion of patriarchal control at different stages of their lives. “Muniyakka in Maximum City” casts an ironic eye on the sophistication of the privileged, through the earthy idiom of the housemaid who carries a bit of her village wherever she goes.

In a more philosophical vein, the section called “Mandala” explores the intersection of the temporal and the timeless, through the relationship of Jiva, the individual self, to Isvara or Paramatman, the divine spirit in every living being. “Kolam” describes the Tamil version of rangoli, where the patterns: “make, unmake, and re-make/ like a Buddhist mandala”. “Maximum City” focuses on urban centres, Bangalore and Bengaluru, Madras and Chennai, where house sparrows keep flying, in search of home. “Being Bilingual” has autobiographical overtones, while “Pichhai” expresses gratitude for all the blessings that life has given the poet.

The most striking poems in the final section “Fireside” are about mothers, foremothers, and women’s legacies, combining the personal with the literary. In “A Dialogue”, the poet’s mother, the acclaimed painter Sarada Devi, paints what the blank canvas suggests, while daughter finds similar inspiration from the blank page. In “Lost and Found”, the mother hands a box of childhood memorabilia to her daughter, saying: “‘This box contains your childhood … and a bit of my childhood too I lost/ when I got married at eleven.’”. “It Took a Lot of Growing Up” highlights a woman’s struggle to balance the duties of motherhood with her vocation as painter. “Yellow Roses” acknowledges the caregiver who enables the poet to write. Some poems are overtly intertextual. “In Search of Father’s Gardens” invokes Alice Walker, while “A Room of One’s Own” alludes to Rasa Sundari Devi and Virginia Woolf.  There is a play on Kannan’s Tamil pen-name in the poems to “Kaveri”. The final poem “If You Want to Visit” sounds an urgent, intensely personal note: “If you want to visit me, / now is the time. Yes, now.”
***

Bio: Radha Chakravarty is a poet, critic and translator. Her latest books include Subliminal: Poems, Mahasweta Devi: Writer, Activist, Visionary and Kazi Nazrul Islam: Selected Essays. She has over 20 books to her credit, including translations of major Bengali writers such as Rabindranath Tagore, Bankimchandra Chatterjee, Kazi Nazrul Islam and Mahasweta Devi, and critical studies of Tagore, women’s writing and gender issues. She has edited several anthologies of South Asian writing, and co-edited the The Essential Tagore, nominated Book of the Year 2011. She was Professor of Comparative Literature and Translation Studies at Dr. B. R. Ambedkar University Delhi.


Earth Melodies: Hum

Radha Chakravarty
put your ear to the ground
hear Earth hum –
music, microseismic—
ocean floor pulsing 
to the rhythm of waves— 
vibrations in sync
with the planet’s troubled core

in ever-widening spheres
vibrations spread 
across transparent ether, to join 
the symphony of astral bodies, 
exquisite harmony circling 
the soundless percussion—
elusive heartbeat, throbbing
in the still dark centre 
at the core of our very being
***

Bio: Radha Chakravarty is a widely published writer, critic and translator. Subliminal: Poems is her recent collection of poetry. Her poems have appeared in numerous journals and anthologies. She contributed to Pandemic: A Worldwide Community Poem (Muse Pie Press, USA), nominated for the Pushcart Prize 2020.  She has published over 20 books, including translations of major Bengali writers, anthologies of South Asian writing, and critical studies of Tagore, Mahasweta Devi and contemporary women writers. She was Professor of Comparative Literature & Translation Studies at Ambedkar University Delhi.

Special Edition: Radha Chakravarty

Radha Chakravarty
Arrested Gaze

river in motion,
wind-stirred trees
road on edge
tense pre-storm sky 
empty bench
awaiting perhaps
some secret tryst—

arrested moment
frozen in time
captured on camera
in black and white
for eyes that see
no shades of grey
***


Beyond the Frame

The still image stirs
the heart, compels
the gaze, moves
the viewer to wonder
where, when, what, why, and how?

But the pictured sky stays silent,
the trees toss their heads
the river pays no heed
the bench turns its back
the road ignores
our questions.

The scene draws us in
but keeps its secrets, refusing
to divulge the untold story
beyond the frame.
***


Not in the Picture

On that bench
by that road’s edge
beneath that tilted tree
beside that flowing stream
beneath that serene sky
beyond that tree-line on the opposite shore,
there I am!

Look again, closely, and you will know
that space is not empty.
Feel the presences: trees, river, sky, 
That bench too has stories to tell.
I make them up.

The fingers of my gaze
grasp and possess the scene
the breath of my desire stirs the trees,
my voice makes the river sing.

Because I am there,
the picture is real
but you cannot see me,
because I am, of course,
not in the picture
***

Bio: Radha Chakravarty is a widely published writer, critic and translator. Subliminal: Poems is
her recent collection of poetry. Her poems have appeared in numerous journals and
anthologies. She contributed to Pandemic: A Worldwide Community Poem (Muse Pie Press,
USA), nominated for the Pushcart Prize 2020.  She has published over 20 books, including
translations of major Bengali writers, anthologies of South Asian writing, and critical studies
of Tagore, Mahasweta Devi and contemporary women writers. She was Professor of
Comparative Literature & Translation Studies at Ambedkar University Delhi.

Poetry: Radha Chakravarty

Radha Chakravarty
In Your Eyes a River

[To my father’s village Shyamsiddhi]

 

You never left Shyamsiddhi.

In your heart you carried a home,

in your eyes a river, in the soles your feet,

the swing and shift of a bamboo sanko,

narrow bridge of precarious crossings,

in seasons when you were not a-swim

in the rain-swollen canal circling

that mound, the lost ground of your birth,

forsaken foundation of your fast-transforming self,

and absent source of mine.

 

Past towering Shyamsiddhi Math,

crossing lush green fields of memory,

flourishing on the soil of old tales retold,

I traverse, now, the trail you took

on sunburnt days, to Srinagar school, clutching

slate, chalk, and shining boyhood dreams,

unaware that the highway of history

is a one-way route to the point of no return.

 

Across that same swaying sanko I step, now,

forward and back, into your past and mine,

searching opaque green water for signs,

scanning cloud-laden sky for answers.

The climb is slippery. Mud can be treacherous.

Helping hands draw me ashore, to the present.

 

My questing soul kneels before

the starkness of your truth. Face to face

with the very spot where your story began,

bearing hidden future seeds of mine,

awed by stark simplicity of hut, yard,

well, sky and bottle-gourd vine,

green sway of banana leaves

and palm tree’s shaggy grace,

Here, I hear the heartbeat of the past,

feel the pulse of my present.

The silence of the listening earth is deafening.

Beneath the gaze of that same new and ancient sky,

I stand face to face with your impossible story,

and find at last the missing opening lines of mine.

 

[Note: This poem is addressed to my father, whose family migrated to Kolkata from their village Shyamsiddhi in East Bengal (now Bangladesh), just before Partition.

sanko: Bengali word for a narrow bamboo footbridge.]

***

 

Cut Flowers

Roses in a vase

stems cut to size, arranged

in formal symmetry, designed

to please the cultivated gaze,

to match the stately grace

of ritual social pageantry

 

still

fill the air

with fragrant defiance,

of forbidden memory—

 

that forsaken garden,

familiar thorny branch,

wildness of the wind,

smell of moist earth,

hum of the honey bee

dazzle of sunshine,

tender caress

of dewdrops at dawn, and

the whimsy

of butterflies

***

 

Driftwood dreams

 

stranded on a strange new shore

driftwood dreams of home—

that familiar forest, that deep-rooted tree,

that growing, branched family

of ancient lineage, lush with leaves,

new shoots, blossoms, slowly ripening fruit,

filled with birdsong, echoing calls

of creatures of the wild,

growing living history, now lost

in the toss and churn of ocean waves,

tides of time, indifferent

to the fate of un-homed migrants

***

 

Bio: Radha Chakravarty is a widely published writer, critic and translator. Subliminal: Poems is her recent collection of poetry. Her poems have appeared in numerous journals and anthologies. She contributed to Pandemic: A Worldwide Community Poem (Muse Pie Press, USA), nominated for the Pushcart Prize 2020.  She has published over 20 books, including translations of major Bengali writers, anthologies of South Asian writing, and critical studies of Tagore, Mahasweta Devi and contemporary women writers. She was Professor of Comparative Literature & Translation Studies at Ambedkar University Delhi.