Updated: Jul 29, 2020

Author- Sabarna Roy Page- 84 Format- E-book Publisher- Frog books/Leadstart publishing.

Front page

My Review:-

The cover is simple and have nothing to talk it’s a simple and sober. This is 2nd book by Sabarna Roy. I get my hands on, Pentacles is collection of 1 long story and 4 poems and Story as well as poems are well written and my expectations are high after Winter poems. Here I’ll surmise this 1.You are what you own (cars,clothes, House etc.) today’s reality. 2.Tell us you Sandy man “How far is the soul of the city from our tower” if you want to understand this you have spend yourself (time and attention). 3.And the character “TARA” which seems interesting till end, but but here is author’s wife is more strong plot.Language is easy yet sharp for someone to understand and this touch every expects of your life. So I’ll suggest you this one

Here is what I like in this book and want to share with you:-

“TARA” Tara used to be my schoolmate; I met her twenty-six years after we had left school. It’s not as if I remembered her very often; But if I reminisced my school days, Her face quivered in the frame of my subconscious, Somewhere in its left bottom quadrant. Well, what made her worth remembering were her large moist eyes, Her beautiful black hair tied in a well knotted bun, Her well-developed bosoms and her strong legs. She was the daughter of our music teacher; Tara played the tunes of Beatles songs on the piano, This made her an enigma in school. I can tell you: There are two kinds of beauties on this planet, One, who lose their beauty to age, and another, who ripen with time. The former makes me immensely sad, While the latter happy and strangely envious. When I came across Tara after so many years at the Delhi airport, She was slowly munching a sweetened butterfly biscuit, And washing her snack with sips of steaming black coffee. I did not recognize her at first: she looked swollen, her hair was coloured, And her legs were covered by a long maroon skirt. But the eyes were unmistakably melancholic, As they used to be in the adolescent years, Finally, when we met the house was on fire, We looked for comfortable places in a lounge café, As if we had all the time in the world for each other. For some time we chit-chatted avoiding the core of our lives. The lager that we drank must have created a spectre in our souls, I found the pieces of our conversation dangling, On the periphery of a dangerous jungle. Tara said with a sparkling smile on her lips: Sandy, you’ve aged; you no longer look that handsome. The image from school that I carry in my mind, You need not sulk for I’ve aged too and I know; I look ugly. No, she was neither fishing for compliments nor sad about what she said; She was plainly speaking facts: I could realize that. You know what, Sandy: I migrated to Canada after high- school, With flickering dreams in my eyes, Did my graduation from a film-school in Montreal, My life is a whirlwind! I tried to make a film on a story about a girl, Who was locked up in a dungeon, For the first eighteen years of her life by her crazy father. And when she comes out of it she is in a stupor; She fails to communicate to the outside world, not knowing their language. Let me tell you Sandy: Silence is the pinnacle of isolation; it kills us from inside. When you have been abandoned by the soul that you love most dearly, You plunge into absolute isolation and absolute silence, Like the few moments before you die. In the last twenty years I have loved a Frenchman, a Swede and a Mexican; I was dumped by all of them in the end. Each time I had to crawl up an abyss, Similar to an unending shaft of a coal mine: Breathless and infinitely depressed. I lost my child in the eighth month succumbing to a sudden fall, While on a shoot across a snow covered meadow. How many bridges can you cross, my dear; tell me about you Sandy; I have been a pathetic chatterbox truly. I did not know what to say to Tara. I felt embarrassed to talk about the life of a seasoned bureaucrat, Who constantly makes deals and money on the sly. Sitting opposite Tara and hearing the story of her intense life, I felt a pain rising up in my body like a fountain of light. I realized: I have spent a shallow life, I felt humbled. We kept the conversation going, I asked her: Have you come back now? She said: I wish to settle down in Pondicherry by the sea. Why did you come back, Tara? She replied to my query looking in my eyes: I wanted to migrate to a land of opportunities, Sandy; to a country That was not hesitant to nurture unconventional pursuits; Most of all I hated the heat, dust and humidity of our places, And the festering wounds of impoverishment everywhere, But when I lost hope of survival in a foreign land, And the moral strength to continue in absolute darkness, That comes with the frenzy of silence and isolation, It was my land (to whose air, food and language I belonged) That beckoned me in my dreams sending me streams of light and warmth, (Embracing me in its delicate haze) as if telling me softly,I could survive here with a chance. We kept quiet for a long time. Then our planes were announced and we departed silently. ***** Reaching home, I told the story of Tara to my wife. She looked worried and her look was asking me: Were you in love with Tara in school? Since my wife is intelligent and knows all the tricks of riddled conversation, She asked me nothing. After midnight, locked in our arms, I told her this: You know darling; we had a definition of happiness in school. What? Happy will that man be whom Tara would marry! My wife whispered in my ears: But she herself was such an unhappy woman, And she married no one and so my darling Sandy, You still have a chance to be happy by her. I got up, held my wife in my arms in a strong embrace, And made love slowly almost cherishing each moment, Like it was my only residual lifespan, Under the gaze of million stars blazing against a brilliant sky.

About Author

Sabarna Roy, 43, is a qualified Civil Engineer from Jadavpur University, Calcutta. He works in a senior management position in a manufacturing and engineering construction company. Sabarna is widely travelled in India and lives in Calcutta with his family. He is an avid reader and movie buff.He started writing during his university days, mostly English and Bengali poems. He stopped writing after he left university and took up employment. After a gap of 19 years, he started writing once again mostly to reconnect with himself.In the period of 19 years when he did not write, he spent his non-working hours reading, listening to music and watching world cinema. He loves reading Tolstoy,Chekhov, Rabindranath, Eliot, Manik Bandopadhyay,Satyajit Ray, Kundera and Pamuk the most. He is hooked onto Mozart, Turkish and Egyptian music and M S Subbalaxmi. In cinema his favourites are Aparajito,Pratidwandi, Rashoman, Eight-and-a-Half, Breathless, Head-on, Birds, Vertigo, Sunset Boulevard, Sacrifice, Garam Hawa and Tare Zameen Par.

Thank you so much I really appreciate your time.

You can follow me on Instagram as well as on Amazon.

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