Is it just me, or is there really a sudden deluge of translated books around? Honestly, I am loving it! Getting to read stories from faraway regions, raw, unfiltered, and often from an era untouched by the internet, feels like pure bliss.
One such book I picked up recently is The Owl, The River
and the Valley by Arupa Patangia Kalita, translated from Assamese by Mitra
Phukan and published by Penguin Random House. It’s a beautiful collection of 12
short stories.
These stories capture the essence of everyday struggles, the
rhythm of mundane domestic life, and the harsh divide between privilege and
poverty. My absolute favourite was Yellow Flip Flops, a story that
shocks you with its ending while laying bare the depths of poverty.
What struck me most was the rustic flavour of the narration,
rooted in the villages of Assam. All the stories are told through women
protagonists and touch on themes like surrogacy, migration, employment, and
historical legacies.
Reading this book felt like a fresh breeze of storytelling.
And yes, I am definitely diving into more translations now. 🌿📚
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