Jeet Thayil was nearly born in the middle of the Muhattapuzha River. The current has kept him ever since. (‘Who among us will escape the. As starlight, as ash or rain, as a smear on the moon, as a tree, say a champakali, as a leaf or a man impersonating a leaf torn into shreds and fed to the . Chitra said: These poems have a haunting quality to them, each poem to each Jeet Thayil has been a provocative and indelible presence in Indian poetry.

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I suppose I could say that he has dipped his feet in many rivers, trying out different styles, definitely conforming and non conforming. Collected Poems by Jeet Thayil. Bibliography Poetry Collected Poems.

J eet Thayil is everywhere at the Jaipur literary festival. When dawn lit up the dirty sea and shit-stained rocks and crowds of morning strollers, Billie was sitting cross-legged in front of a candle, a ripped seam of burnt foil in her hand. A mountain moves and nobody notices. Most poems are not inter-related but understanding Thayil is like peeling an onion, the more layers you peel, the closer you get to the underlying verses.

Collected Poems by Jeet Thayil

Jeet’s work is wholly visceral, and because I read Narcopolis first, I now see how richly infused his fiction is with his prose. Jeet Thayil interviewedy by Hemant Sareen. Retrieved 18 February His Delhi-based band is Still Dirty. Religion and art rubbed shoulders: We seem to be getting to the heart poes what the book is about: Your green will outlast plastic.


Jeet Thayil

I received a copy in exchange for a review. I’ve written four books of poems, two libretti, and one novel. This, Thayil assures me, like much in the novel, is a fictionalised account of a true story.

The writers are solely responsible for any claims arising out of the contents of this article. Collected Poems represents more than three decades of work, starting with poems written in the early s. There is nothing collected about any of it.

Mehr Waheed rated it it was amazing Oct 22, As one of the characters [in Narcopolis ] says, it is only by repeating the names of the dead that we honour them. Arunima rated it really liked it Jun 30, Return to Book Page. Ramanujan Cuckold by Kiran Nagarkar Sahitya Akademi Award for English. Kruttika Nadig rated it really liked it Nov 20, The moon that hangs above the street on a silver thread lifts its skirt to dance.

Jeet Thayil (poet) – India – Poetry International

These Errors Are Correctwritten in dedication to my wife, who died, is the last full-length collection of poems I intend to publish. From his debut with Gemini in to his last volume These Errors Are Correct inJeet Thayil has been a provocative and indelible presence in Indian poetry.

Years later, when Thayil was 26 and living in the YMCA in Mumbai, working in advertising, writing poems, he went to hear the older poet read in a cafe. The novel, Narcopolisin which I tried to write of Bombay as a city of violence and intoxication, is the only thing I’ve written that remains in print; again, this is business as usual for an Indian poet.


K,Penguin India, forthcoming. A mountain moves and nobody notices. Just a moment while we sign you jeft to your Goodreads account.

The world is code, smoke signals the dead have left us to decipher, knowing we cannot. No one escapes your influence. You are always kissed. Eve Pritchett rated it really liked it Poemd 13, I found myself shocked and stunned in places and smiling with pleasure in others. The world is old and set in its ways, and K.

Sie erleuchten deine Pracht, sichtbar von Raumschiffen und Satteliten.

It meant everything to me. At the work’s core is an exploration about the complexities of faith and multiculturalism in modern-day Britain. Show 25 25 50 All. To equal Bombay as a subject you would have to go much further than the merely nostalgic will allow. He recalls a brilliant man struggling with alcohol addiction. The author is an Indian poet and novelist. Archived from the original on 12 April The world is code, smoke signals the dead have left us to decipher, knowing we cannot.

They have nothing in common but the image of you carried in secret lockets, or burned into their third, unblinking eyes, or tattooed into armpit and hairline and between the toes. Who’s Who of Indian Wiriters”.