Tag Archives: Marathi

Darkness by Ratnakar Matkari. Translated from the Marathi by Vikrant Pande.

Darkness by Ratnakar Matkari Title: Darkness
Author: Ratnakar Matkari
Translated from the Marathi by Vikrant Pande
Publisher: HarperCollins India
ISBN: 978-9353573331
Genre: Short Stories, Horror
Pages: 228
Source: Personal Copy
Rating: 3/5

I love the horror genre – whether it is in movies or books. Something about consuming it, getting terribly scared, and then not being able to sleep for days. Yes, it does seem kind of sadistic, but I enjoy the “thrill” of that as well.

So, when I came across Darkness by Ratnakar Matkari – a collection of 18 horror and supernatural stories, translated from the Marathi by Vikrant Pande, I was whooping for joy. Finally, there was one collection of horror stories, in translation, from the sub-continent. I am sure there are more, but I don’t know of them for now.

The book starts off with great promise. The opening story “Birthday” is about a young boy who can predict death-days by knowing your date of birth. Honestly, I was spooked by it. I think I even got gooseflesh. The titular story “Darkness” is excellently written – pulpy, takes the reader to the edge, and leaves you wondering what actually took place. A story of doppelgängers? Time travel? What just happened? As I progressed, I was skeptical about the quality of stories but surprisingly the pace and fear factor were maintained. “By the Clock” seemed predictable but wasn’t. Most of Matkari’s stories seem predictable but they aren’t and that’s the beauty of evoking the chill in the reader, long after the story is over.

At the same time, some stories did not work for me and seemed rushed. “I See Vikram” was so-so – about an affluent kid who seems to have an imaginary friend from the slums did not do it for me when it came to the writing or ambience.

Most of his stories hint at other dimensions, other worlds, time-travel, and of what will come to be which is already known to the characters. “Monsoon Guest” is a great example of infusing mythology with horror – some way also reminded me of the movie Tumbbad – the eeriness, the ambience which becomes a character in itself, and the dialogue that takes over the story.

While reading this book, I also often wondered if the experience would be even more enriching reading it in the original Marathi, and the answer was a resounding YES. Couple of reasons for it: The terrain and locales in which these stories are set are so deep-rooted in Maharashtra that only reading them in Marathi would do complete justice to the writer’s vision and storytelling capabilities. The second reason being, nothing like reading anything pulpy in the original language only to truly feel the emotion the author intended you to.

“Darkness” for me worked on several plot points, stories, and gave me the much-needed spooks. At the same time, it also got repetitive in most part, and predictable. I would still recommend this collection of stories, wonderfully translated by Vikrant Pande – keeping the essence intact in most stories. It is the kind of collection that will jolt you and make you also look over your shoulder once in a while.

Half-Open Windows by Ganesh Matkari; Translated by Jerry Pinto

Title: Half-Open Windows
Author: Ganesh Matkari
Translated from the Marathi by: Jerry Pinto
Publisher: Speaking Tiger
ISBN: 978-9386338358
Genre: Literary Fiction, Translation
Pages: 208
Source: Publisher
Rating: 5 Stars

There are very few contemporary novels out there that speak of the nature of the urban spaces we inhabit and how close is the relationship that we have with them. In my opinion, we need more books such as these that make us contemplate and look at our spaces differently. “Half-Open Windows” by Ganesh Matkari is one such book that reexamines the society we live in, through the characters that are constantly making an appearance and questioning our lives. The book was originally published in Marathi and now translated to English by Jerry Pinto. This edition is published by Speaking Tiger.

What is the book about?

Half-Open Windows is not an easy book to peg. Sometimes it is angsty and at others it is just a social commentary. All said and done, it is also about (and most majorly) the city of Mumbai – the treacherous and yet quite a seducer – Mumbai. The story is about people who are connected to SNA Architects – an upcoming firm in the premium area of Colaba. The characters are way too many for me to describe here – but what I can tell you is that from an attention seeking suicidal person to corrupt co-owners of the firm to a lonely widow going about her life, you will see many shades to Mumbai and perhaps even more.

I haven’t read the book in Marathi but Jerry Pinto does a fantastic job of retaining the flavour of the city and the phrases in the local language without which the book would have been incomplete. At the same time let’s not forget the city of Mumbai that is another character in this book for sure – witnessing it all and the force behind all the good and the bad. “Half-Open Windows” is just but a reflection of our selves. Do not miss out on this read.

Book Review: Cobalt Blue by Sachin Kundalkar; Translated by Jerry Pinto

Cobalt Blue by Sachin Kundalkar Title: Cobalt Blue
Author: Sachin Kundalkar
Translator: Jerry Pinto
Publisher: Hamish Hamilton
ISBN:
Genre: Literary Fiction, Translation
Pages:
Source: Personal Copy
Rating: 5/5

There are books that you read sometimes and do not know what to make of them. There are stories that are close to you and they emerge through the pages and the writer has just touched a nerve. You know it. Perhaps you do not even acknowledge it, but you do realize that the book has made an impact and there is nothing you can do about it. You let yourself go. You become one with the prose and then you just feel something so deep that you want to share the experience with the world.

My review of “Cobalt Blue” is an experience of reading, which I want to share. I never thought once before picking this book a long time ago. This time around it was a reread – a third time reread at that and I knew it would wrench the life out of me and it did and I loved every bit of it. There is no other way to read this book. It will overpower you at some point if you let it, that is.

I have the regret of not reading this book in Marathi – the language it was originally written in but I know for a fact that Jerry has kept the translation intact. You can feel the words and the senses merge and that is proof enough. I also remember hugging the commissioning editor of this book, for making this book happen in English, for making it available to thousands and millions of readers.

“Cobalt Blue” is about love. It is about strangers who break and heal hearts. It is about love and it’s longing. It is about the sensation of not getting what you want. Of getting it but not getting it completely. How do you then define those emotions? Do they have a voice at all? Tanay and Anuja are siblings. Both smitten by the tenant who comes to stay over. The tenant who is nameless throughout the book. He is the sort of person who will only break your heart. You are aware of it and yet you want to be loved by him, in whatever capacity. There is another brother in the family. There are parents. There are relatives and yet all attention is wanted only by that stranger.

The book had me from the first page. It is narrated by the siblings and the commonality they share. The dread, the eventuality, the similar feeling and yet they do not communicate with each other. Nothing is said. The pain is hidden or just invisible – it is not known to the reader. It is for the reader to decide.

The translation shines. Jerry’s prose mingling with Sachin’s emotions takes you on another journey. The effect is heady. I knew the book would not let me be. I also knew that I would end up crying all over again and yet I had to reread it. There was no other way. Jerry has tact – he says and translates and also lets the reader feel and of course it is true, that the text is doing most of the talking and that is Sachin’s magic. There are no hush tones to homosexual or heterosexual love. Love is love after all and that is the essence of the book. It seems that the book is the canvas and there are endless portraits, possibilities of colour, of tones, of palettes and of intermingling sensations. It is there. Raw and exposed and sometimes we all have to take our chances to see where we fit, where we belong and where we truly feel loved.

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Book Review: The Man Who Tried to Remember by Makarand Sathe

Title: The Man Who Tried to Remember
Author: Makarand Sathe
Publisher: Penguin Viking
ISBN: 9780670086412
Genre: Literary Fiction, Translated Fiction
Pages: 248
Source: Publisher
Rating: 5/5

It would take a lot for a translated work to be detached from its original or the perception of what it might be like to read the original and savor the book in its translated form. It happens to me all the time. I wish I could read those Spanish and Japanese works in their true form; however I do not know the languages. The same happens when reading an Indian translation, which are most often ignored by people.

Indian writers have not just sprung up. They have always been there. It is a different story that the publishing dynamics have changed drastically in our country. Earlier on, the only writers who made it were either the socialites or people who were already columnists. The rest were conveniently forgotten. Well, I am glad that that is changing. The so-called “Basha” literature is now gaining its ground. It would have been great if that would happen in its original form, however the good thing is that people are becoming aware of such writers and their works.

With this viewpoint, I started reading Makarand Sathe’s, “The Man Who Tried to Remember”. This book is strangely different and quite a rollercoaster read. The story begins when the central character, Achyut Athavaley, an internationally acclaimed writer and thinker, fleets in his memory patterns, and what exactly led to the murder of Bodhni, a fellow inmate of the old-age home, where Achyut is spending his years after retirement. Achyut did kill Bodhni in a fit of temporary memory loss. He is now on a trial.

But this is not what the plot is. The plot is extended by numerous NGOs, politicians and the film industry protesting for Achyut’s life to be saved. The so-called media jamboree begins and that is coupled with Achyut’s thoughts fantastically throughout the book.

I have never come across such modernity (in terms of writing and narration) in an Indian novel earlier, so for me, this book ranks very high in terms of style and structure. What also crossed my mind was the fact that the translation, which is done superbly by Shanta Gokhale, must have been such a task to begin with. The writing wavers from past to present and in flashes.

The book is fast-paced and yet makes you ponder and think about everything that interconnects the plot – memory, emotion, murder, and political campaigning. The happenings of Achyut’s life are presented in a funny manner, keeping the somber tone consistent throughout. Sathe’s writing is immediate and keeping in mind the times we live in, which makes it easier to relate to.

“The Man Who Tried to Remember” is a gem of a book, reflecting today’s time and age. A read that will make you question and shake things up a bit.

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