The Lowland - Review

Born just fifteen months apart, Subhash and Udayan are inseparable brothers, one often mistaken for the other in the Calcutta neighborhood where they grow up. But they are also opposites, with gravely different futures ahead.

It is the 1960s and Udayan - charismatic and impulsive - finds himself drawn to the Naxalite movement: he will risk all for what he believes. Subhash, the dutiful son, does not share his brother's political passion; he leaves home to pursue a life of scientific research in a quiet, coastal corner of America.

But when Subhash learns what happened to his brother in the lowland outside their family's home, he comes back to India, hoping to pick up the pieces of a shattered family and to heal the wounds Udayan left behind - including those seared in the heart of his brother's wife. Suspenseful and piercingly intimate, The Lowland is a masterly novel of fate and will, exile and return. This is Jhumpa Lahiri at the height of her considerable powers.

About The Author

Jhumpa Lahiri is the author of three previous works of fiction: Interpreter of Maladies, The Namesake and most recently, Unaccustomed Earth. A recipient of the Pulitzer Prize, a PEN/Hemingway Award, the Frank O'Connor International Short Story Award and a Guggenheim Fellowship, she was inducted into the American Academy of Arts and Letters in 2012.

This June, while I was done reading most of my unread piles, I decided to give ‘The Lowland’ (which has been lying unopened for so many years in my book shelf), its share of attention, and whoa, what a revelation it has been. I was instantly struck with regret – why didn’t I read this before? But then, as they say, there is always a perfect time for everything. Probably, my tryst with this masterpiece was slated for this summer.

‘The Lowland’ characterizes time, spanning decades, going back and forth with whatever each moment has to offer. Subhash and Udayan are the two protagonists, siblings, who move onto different paths, their choices conflicting, yet their bond endearing. They are conjoined by an inexplicable camaraderie of brotherhood, so much that their stories remain entwined till the end.

There is Gauri, fiery, with a mind of her own, but trapped in fate’s ordeals. Though strong in outlook, her vulnerability is essayed in many decisions that she takes throughout the course of her journey. There are times when she is wrong, and moments when she has been wronged, her path criss-crossing with the two brothers, jittery, unsteady, but always in focus.

And then there is Calcutta, gradually progressing to Kolkata. The markets, the people, and the rickshaw – pullers, the politics all around, the unrest, and then finally the change that years of instability bring, form the core of this novel.

‘The Lowland’ is an experience, an emotional one, a struggle between guilt and determination, failure and the ongoing expectation, a hope, a dream. It’s real, caressing the boundaries of human aspirations. ‘The Lowland’ is a remarkable voyage, where one could be lost, hoping to be found, again.

Title: The Lowland
Authors: Jhumpa Lahiri
Publisher: Random House India
Publication Year: 2013
Language: English
Binding: Hardcover
Genre: Fiction, Contemporary
No. of Pages: 344
Price: Rs 499
My Rating: 5/5

Bookmarks

I am participating in National Poetry Writing Month 2019. 30 Poems in 30 Days is the target.

The Day 12 Prompt for #NaPoWriMo is to write a poem about a dull thing that you own, and why (and how) you love it. Alternatively, what would it mean to you to give away or destroy a significant object?

Often, what might seem dull to you may not be so in eyes of others. and vice versa. In that context, I divide the world into two - between readers and non-readers. While the readers value the bookmarks, the other group will find it boring and insignificant.

Haven't we all faced this before?

I will offer you a cake

and some cookies too really fast

but don't chew the bookmarks

if you're hungry, just ask

you care not for their existence

but they do matter to me

I might have collected a dozen

with one inside each book I read

you think they are dull

sombre pieces of cut paper

you blabber about their futility

testing patience of fellow readers

but how would you know

the magic that they possess

books were never your companion

their power you can not guess

thus, don't spoil the bookmarks

else stories might no longer flow

you would be lost tracking the pages

the reading, thus, tiresome, slow

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• NapoWriMo - Day Twelve
• Imaginary Garden - The Tuesday Platform

Origin

I am participating in National Poetry Writing Month 2019. 30 Poems in 30 Days is the target.

The Day 11 Prompt for #NaPoWriMo is to write a poem of origin. I pondered over the idea for a while. Our origin is our identity. It defines who we are and how we are. But isn't this definition changing with time? We grow and adapt ourselves to various situations, walking on various paths. Origin, I feel, is evolution, as in we are creating ourselves every single day.

down the laid back streets

sprinkled in dusts that shine

trying to figure out the traces

I take one step at a time

these roads have been walked before

there are footprints all around

some big, few small, rest all vague

my path urges me to a distant mound

there're perhaps a thousand leaves

bunched together as a brownish lot

rummaging through the pile, I discover

the mound is not what I had thought

the leaves are but a diary

they are the pages from my past

listed are my ups and downs

how I tripped, and yet I did last

there are leaves that drip with tears

oh, how those days now appear so near

some in the pile highlight my mistakes

and how I crossed my share of fears

in a corner I see a greener bunch

the leaves looking fresh and bare

no, they hold no marks, nor any stories

it is upon me to fill those layers

where would I go, what is my 'next'

I have been evolving every since

we are born not just once

each passing day is our new origin

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• NaPoWriMo - Day 11

Cats And Dogs

I am participating in National Poetry Writing Month 2019. 30 Poems in 30 Days is the target.

The Day 10 Prompt for #NaPoWriMo is to write a poem that starts from a regional phrase, particularly one to describe a weather phenomenon. I picked up an interesting phrase related to rainfall, and gave it an interesting twist.

Do read it in full screen :-)

'twas raining cats and dogs

a few of them falling on my porch

as I bent and picked up a kitten

a puppy got jealous, and I was smitten

I was stuck in a weird dilemma

"Can I keep them both, please Mama"

she nodded, refused, standing firm

"Sorry son, you can just keep one"

the puppy looked with pitied eyes

kitten mewed and stared at the skies

I didn't know what to choose

both of them were too damn cute

"Fine Mom, I keep the kitten

but tomorrow's your birthday, a gift's to be given

this puppy for you, a present from my side

look how pretty it is, black freckles on white"

she didn't refuse, and I was relieved

they were now mine, can you believe

the kitten was furry, licking my toes

I lifted the puppy and it kissed my nose

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• Napowrimo - Day Ten
• Poets United - Poetry Pantry

Things That I'm Drawn To (Even Though I Try Not To)

I am participating in National Poetry Writing Month 2019. 30 Poems in 30 Days is the target.

The Day 9 Prompt for #NaPoWriMo is to engage in another kind of cross-cultural exercise, as it is inspired by the work of Sei Shonagon, a Japanese writer who lived more than 1000 years ago. She wrote a journal that came to be known as The Pillow Book. In it she recorded daily observations, court gossip, poems, aphorisms, and musings, including lists with titles like “Things That Have Lost Their Power,” “Adorable Things,” and “Things That Make Your Heart Beat Faster.” Today, the challenge is to write own Sei Shonagon-style list of “things.”

I decided to have some fun with the prompt, writing of things that one might be drawn too, unwillingly. We are all confused souls. However hard we may try not to chase something, the quicker it comes to us.

Sigh!

there are things that I am drawn to

even though I try, not to - 

like the fall of a cliff

and the echoing voices

darkness around the lamp

and solitude around noises

laughing at my fall

and all my passionate vices

still stuck in a loop

I'm a failure among choices

why am I still drawn to

those now defunct wishes

am I too weak to move on

sigh! her long dark lashes

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• NaPoWriMo - Day Nine
• Imaginary Garden - Fireblossom Friday
• Poets United - Midweek Motif

Traffic

I am participating in National Poetry Writing Month 2019. 30 Poems in 30 Days is the target.

The Day 8 Prompt for #NaPoWriMo is to think about the argot of a particular job or profession, and see how you can incorporate it into a metaphor that governs or drives your poem. 

I decided to go with the frequently used jargon in corporate sector - Traffic, and brush it with a touch of romanticism.

let us be stuck in traffic

and the hours just speed by

may all routes be shut down

we're in no hurry to fly

amidst all the disturbances

our eyes would never lie

the world might come to a standstill

but, we're in no hurry to fly

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• NaPoWriMo - Day Eight

Celebration

I am participating in National Poetry Writing Month 2019. 30 Poems in 30 Days is the target.

The Day 7 Prompt for #NaPoWriMo is to write a poem of gifts and joy. What would you give yourself, if you could have anything? What would you give someone else?

There is an obvious answer to this question, which I feel is common to all. We live in a stressed environment, burdened by our demands and expectations. Where is the time to live our life, the way it should be lead? The best gift is not money, or fame, but living our life the way it's always meant to be lived - happily, relishing the gifts that it has to offer.

how many times do I complement

myself, pleased over my actions

not complaining, even once!

alas, I'm being too harsh

worrying about triviality

when indeed, life is a blessing

shouldn't I then celebrate

each day, month and year

granting myself all happiness

I do deserve a 'today'

lived on my own terms

with peace and health

and a prayer to drive away

all the anxieties that I'd

so long embraced

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• NaPoWriMo - One Week Down
• Imaginary Garden - The Tuesday Platform

Fear

I am participating in National Poetry Writing Month 2019. 30 Poems in 30 Days is the target.

The Day 6 Prompt for #NaPoWriMo is to write a poem of the possible,that emphasizes the power of “if,” of the woulds and coulds and shoulds of the world.

Many a time we stop someone from doing something because of our concerns. That someone could be our family, or friend. It's good when we care for others, but if we are not alert, that care might cage them into a phobia. We should be more cooperative in such situations. Stopping our dear ones from pursuing their passion might have an adverse effect in all our lives.

you were miserably afraid

of the waves kissing your feet

panicking at every moment

when the water started to recede

urging me not to take you

near the tides churning the sea

you pleaded to be indoors

your voice, frighteningly dizzy

could it be 'cause of my warning

when as a child you jumped in the pool

I was scared you would be hurt

"No swimming unless 13"- I made the rule

I drove away your passion

unknowingly, replacing it with fear

only if I hadn't stopped you

can I ever forgive myself, dear

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• NaPoWriMo - Day 6
• Imaginary Garden

Speed

I am participating in National Poetry Writing Month 2019. 30 Poems in 30 Days is the target.

The Day 5 Prompt for #NaPoWriMo is to write a poem that incorporates at least one of the following: (1) the villanelle form, (2) lines taken from an outside text, and/or (3) phrases that oppose each other in some way. I chose the first. The classic villanelle has five three-line stanzas followed by a final, four-line stanza. The first and third lines of the first stanza alternately repeat as the last lines of the following three-line stanzas, before being used as the last two lines of the final quatrain.

I have written poetry on social issues many a times. Today again, I have highlighted the need to channel one's enery and zeal while driving. I have seen many, specially the youngsters, trying to gain unnecessary accelaration and speed while riding motorbikes or driving cars. This can be very dangerous for themselves, as well as for the pedestrians. Speed should never be of utmost importance. It's the balance that one should focus upon. Don't risk your lives chasing few minutes of fake thrill. Life is too precious to be wasted in this fashion.

there was never ever a need

to be armed in fake pride

wish you'd checked your speed

you aimed to take the lead

be miles ahead of others, but

there was never ever a need

that day you're high indeed

no wonder, your sunken eyes

wish you'd checked your speed

a hundred times I did plead

"pull back, why this hurry"

there was never ever a need

they said, you didn't bleed

yet, the damage was within

wish you'd checked your speed

only if you had paid some heed

life's not to be wasted in misdeeds

there was never ever a need

wish you'd checked your speed

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• NaPoWriMo 2019 - Day 5

Pride

I am participating in National Poetry Writing Month 2019. 30 Poems in 30 Days is the target.

The Day 4 Prompt for #NaPoWriMo is to write a sad poem, but one that achieves sadness through simplicity. I have narrated a simple story which conjoins a mix of emotions - pride, joy and sadness. 

I watch you grow

my heart swells with pride

no longer faltering

you walk in steady strides

you learn new words

often leaving me surprised

you talk of dreams

and ambition side by side

someday, my son,

you would shine bright

I know 'cause you're smart

you'll do everything right

but am I wrong to admit

of being a little scared

you will build a world of own

will I find a place there

we will be in touch

our daily round of calls

but will I get to see

the bruises in your arms

or can I caress your hair

when you are down and low

you will no longer depend on me

your struggles, I wouldn't know

but to my friends I shall boast

stories of your success

hiding my share of sadness

seeing my bird leaving its nest

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• NaPoWriMo - Day 4
• dVerse - Open Link Night