Skip to main content

Book Review - Thwarted Escape by Lopamudra Banerjee

Finished reading Lopa Banerjee 's book Thwarted Escape: An Immigrant's Wayward Journey (Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Thwarted-Escape-Immigra…/…/9352074254)
have to say this was an unparalleled reading experience. And I say this not just because Lopa has the enviable skill of being able to weave images with impeccably chosen words, or, because her writing has the magical prowess of pulling one out of familiar surroundings and transporting one to her world that demands to be explored and cherished - but because, she is an extremely courageous author.
As they say, the best way to know an author is to read her / his work. But what I usually get to see are veiled characterizations and tangential references, that feed off an author's personal experiences. What we get to see in Lopa's book, however, is a stark, no-holds-barred depiction of her journey - speckled with moments of ecstasy, of despair, of shame, of anger.
This is the gripping story of a journey. The journey of an immigrant in foreign shores embracing an alien culture and slowly becoming one with the warmth and the fragrance of the Midwestern air that evokes memories of a turbulent past in another land, at another time and almost compels her to take up a pen and write this masterpiece. The journey of a woman who decides to look back at her roots, throwing aside the rose-tinted glasses we often put on when we 'want to reminisce about how good our lives have been'. Lopa frees herself from the shackles of conventions that elders consciously and unconsciously rub into the psyche of unsuspecting offsprings and that we carry on our souls for the rest of our lives. Here is a voice that refuses to conform, to give in.
So we get to read about her association of the rains with a personal tragedy, and I note from her writing that even the embrace of a loved one with the rains pelting her windows could not erase those dark memories. The rains are still her tears.
She unabashedly speaks about her first innocent crime in her efforts to live up to the expectations at home. Haven't we all been there at some time or the other?
And while her personal experiences of male atrocities touch the reader, it is interesting to note how she dissects popular mythology and points out that while the stories of brutalities in our alleys and inside the four walls of our homes make us cringe, women have all along been tormented, judged and then put on a pedestal!
This is as much a social commentary as an individual's personal journey. And that is what makes this book such an enthralling read!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Book Review - Poems by Subhadip Mukherjee

Ernest Hemingway said, “There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” Reading the poetry of Subhadip Mukherjee in his book ‘ ছেঁড়া চিন্তার Scribbles’ (Offtrack Publishers, co-authored by Dr. Kausik Ghosh), I am convinced that he is bleeding. And that’s good news. Subhadip is a nagorik kobiyal. His poems hold mirror to the stifling urban life with its rat race, with its mindless pursuit of  materialistic ambitions, and with its consumerism. নাগরিক ব্যস্ততা নানা জটিলতা... দাশু বারবার কিস্তিমাত He mocks the same judgemental urban society right in his introduction when he says: যদি তাকে চিনে থাকো যদি তাকে জেনে থাকো Boss, বেশী . মিশোনা তার সাথে সামান্য নেশা হবে ... তুমিও " খারাপ " হবে দেরি হবে রোজ রাত্তিরে Subhadip’s poems paint love in its myriad hues – from extreme euphoria to brooding despondency. Subhadip depicts the unadulterated purity of love when he says: তুই ক্লাস নাইনৈর খাতার...

The Sinners: Extract #1

  Aarti was with Vikram in her one-bedroom flat. It had been raining for quite some time - the dirt washed away, street lights reflected on the wet roads. There were distant rumbles in the evening sky, sounding almost ominous. Very few cars sped down the empty road below. The room was half-lit by a single lamp on the study desk.   It was just the two of them inside the flat. They had returned a while back after dining at the Marriott in Juhu.   “I’ve been missing you for days, Vikram! I don’t remember when we met last,” Aarti’s voice rose a couple of notches, the resentment in her tone pronounced. “And when we met today after weeks, we ended up fighting.”   There were beads of sweat on Aarti’s temples and above her lips. She was visibly tense. There was a bad taste in her mouth, not the kind you carry home after a dinner at the Marriott. Vikram tried to pull her closer but Aarti freed herself and walked away towards the desk. She looked away, trying to hide the...

Decoding Marriage - An excerpt from 'An Autumn Turmoil'

  Most of us have a glorified idea about love. I think it comes from the staple diet of Bollywood movies we are all brought up on. Couples strolling on the beach, watching the sunset together, whispering promises of eternity into each other’s ear, and making love on satin sheets in wooden cottages overlooking the Swiss Alps. But life does not play out like this. The movies do not show the truth, what happens backstage. The love fades. The promises lose meaning. And the lovemaking goes from being a passion to a duty, something a married couple ‘is supposed to do at bed time.’ Before long, you reach that stage, where you can count the number of times you do it every month on your fingers, with a couple of fingers to spare. And you surrender to the monotony. The husband and the wife start living separate lives under the same roof – all in the name of security, comfort, marital bliss and sometimes, the fear of what ‘everyone would say’. Abhishek and I are fast approaching that stage in...