Contents: Women’s Writing from North East India (Issue 36)
Contents: Women’s Writing from North East India (Issue 36)
Posts tagged ‘Women Writers from North East India’
Jun 15
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Guest-Editorial: Women’s Writing from North East India
By Namrata Pathak
The women writers from the North-East have invariably dealt with the issues of oppression, subjugation, invisibility, silences, and gaps in the periphery. However, their writings also question a legacy of what are being “discarded,” “de-valued,” and “discredited” in the context of the North-East.
Nabina Das’ Three Poems
By Nabina Das
If Saaqi were now to pick up the ruddy cup
she'd only wail today sans ecstasy: O mere rabb!
Where are all the flowers gone in this poison clime,
what pellets do you hurl at us, what hex do you rub?
Nabanita Kanungo’s Three Poems
By Nabanita Kanungo
the last orgasm fell as a quiet bomb on his dream,
and you picked up splinters of that city, sleeping alone…
with hot flushes fanning out into your forties like pests
staining sheets with a blotchy, red date...
Easterine Kire’s Six Poems
By Easterine Kire
Last night the shadows chased me
And the wintermoon screamed in my ears
Ah Calcutta, I could not sleep.
I watched
Your silent city weave
A tapestry of poems, songs, dead roses
And a pair of deep brown eyes.
The Lexicographer in Lower Assam
By Sumana Roy
‘Is a dictionary a natural thing?’ I ask.
Exhaustion’s given my voice a late accent.
He stands up. Anger’s a new immigrant in his voice.
‘A dictionary is the most hospitable place in the world.
Where else would the foreign find such accommodation?’
Bhobai tells a story
By Nitoo Das
I walked home. Inside me, I felt the need to draw more crows. I knew I could not do it in my mother’s presence and went off to the forest whenever I heard the crowbite in my fingers. It was a longing I could not control. In fact, I did not want to. Approximately a year later, I saw the first changes in me and soon, Bhobai, the man turned into Bhobai, the crow. I embraced the change with blue-black wings.
Road to Freedom
By Leisangthem Gitarani Devi
Everyone in the leikai knows with whose money she’s buying fish. Earlier she had no money to buy even dried fish, let alone fresh ones. Since her husband died leaving her with her second child still in her womb, she’s tried all means of enterprises. In Manipur, all enterprises are like fair-weathered friends; as long as there is no bandh, things run smooth.
Extracts from Mamoni Roisom Goswami
By Dibyajyoti Sarma
Phuleshwari walked toward the point where the three roads converged and sat under the old sacred fig tree next to the road. Ah! Blowing dust, they just passed by her. She wondered if she should follow the vehicles. Yes, where did they go? Those military vehicles?
Bipasha Bora’s “Ka Sinsa’s Piglet”
By Dibyajyoti Sarma
Just before her death, she yelps in terrible pain. She feels thirsty. She cries out for her mother. The lower half of her dress is soaked in blood. Exhausted and satisfied after playing with her body, the cruel, unknown flutist leaves the way he had come. Before leaving, he drops another handful of white berry near her body.
Café Dissensus 