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Bhaswati Ghosh

Last Build Date: Tue, 17 Apr 2018 17:23:43 +0000


The Wolf’s Eyes are Red/Sarveshwar Dayal Saxenawritinghome1

Thu, 12 Apr 2018 12:27:25 +0000

(Tr. mine) The wolf’s eyes are red. Glare at him Until your eyes Turn red, too. What other choice do you have When it’s in front of you? भेड़िए की आंखें सुर्ख हैं / सर्वेश्वरदयाल सक्सेना भेड़िए की आंखें सुर्ख हैं। उसे तबतक घूरो जब तक तुम्हारी आंखें सुर्ख न हो जाएं। और तुम कर … Continue reading The Wolf’s Eyes are Red/Sarveshwar Dayal Saxena

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Tue, 10 Apr 2018 13:15:09 +0000

Mandolin’s secrets have no use for cover. They burst open into reveried splinters And flood your waking dreams. Mandolin lures moody southern Winds; blows them lustily in your Courtyard. The breeze ruffles Your hair, your sourness. At temples, Mandolin gathers the Holy fire of the morning sun to bathe Your face. When Mandolin plays, you … Continue reading LISTENING TO U. SRINIVAS

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Book Review: Love and the Turning Seasons – India’s Poetry of Spiritual & Erotic Longingwritinghome1Love and the Turning Seasons

Mon, 09 Apr 2018 17:41:33 +0000

I recently had the opportunity tot read “Love and the Turning Seasons,” an exquisite collection of bhakti poetry in translation from Aleph. I wrote about it in Kitaab. Title: Love and the Turning Seasons – India’s Poetry of Spiritual & Erotic Longing Edited by Andrew Schelling Publisher: Aleph Pages: 294 Price: ₹399 I left shame … Continue reading Book Review: Love and the Turning Seasons – India’s Poetry of Spiritual & Erotic Longing

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Day’s Endwritinghome1

Sat, 24 Mar 2018 16:11:43 +0000

The evening adjusts the hem of her smooth rose wine stole. You and I move to the back porch. The sky flushes to allure us with its pink. But work and all that went wrong with it take their toll. Bird wings hustle. Soon it will be dark. We’ll pick up our half-sipped glasses of … Continue reading Day’s End

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The Crop by Sarveshwar Dayal Saxenawritinghome1

Tue, 13 Mar 2018 01:30:47 +0000

Translation: Bhaswati Ghosh Even if I were to hold the pen like a plow, a spade or a trowel, I wouldn’t be able to harvest the crop. I can only prepare the soil. A few rare ones will sow the seeds of revolution and nourish my toil, carrying my journey forward. Tomorrow, when I’m no … Continue reading The Crop by Sarveshwar Dayal Saxena

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Balancing yin and yang in Coyoacanwritinghome1BG2

Wed, 07 Mar 2018 20:48:12 +0000

First published in Cafe Dissensus Everyday It’s the third day of our visit to Mexico City – also the first working day since we landed here. I’ve yet to recover from a severe case of food poisoning, but don’t want to spoil our plans to visit Frida Kahlo’s and Leon Trotsky’s houses in Coyoacan – … Continue reading Balancing yin and yang in Coyoacan

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At Ramkinkar’s House with Shakti (Memoir) by Samir Senguptawritinghome1

Mon, 12 Feb 2018 14:52:42 +0000

Translated from the Bangla by Bhaswati Ghosh First published in Parabaas It must have been the middle of the 60s decade—or was it the beginning? I don’t remember the year, only that the days were of intense spring. The festival of colours had ended just a few days ago. Shakti said to me, “Samir, let’s … Continue reading At Ramkinkar’s House with Shakti (Memoir) by Samir Sengupta

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After the Partywritinghome120171126_174947

Tue, 06 Feb 2018 18:26:54 +0000

First published in The Ham Free Press The lips of the bald man, as he speaks of the “Indians and Pakistanis” he sees at the tennis court, curves into a sly smile. My racism detector picks up the snigger that sneaks through his lament on the status of those work-visa immigrants whose kids get Canadian … Continue reading After the Party

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Cottage Tripwritinghome1

Sat, 27 Jan 2018 15:49:47 +0000

It always starts with the kitchen. Adventure is about burning your finger on an alien stove. Pulling out the cabinet doors, prying open the drawers of catalogued cutlery — cookmarks of successive lodgers. Your excitement at the corelle set, the one identical to yours at home quickly dissipates. Home away from home is never home. … Continue reading Cottage Trip

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The Bulldozer (short story)writinghome1

Mon, 22 Jan 2018 13:28:24 +0000

First published in Warscapes I was sleeping when suddenly it started banging inside my ears, and I jumped up on the bed. As I looked out of the window, I could see the egg-yolk sun in the sky. Just then, Ab came running up to me, grabbed my arm and took me outside. Everything was … Continue reading The Bulldozer (short story)

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