The familiar sight of years gone by
struck me with a deep sense of nostalgia as I revisited the City of Joy. The
place where poetry was born in me. And to find that home is never too far
away when you encounter people who are driven by the same passion as yours. It
was my love for books that brought me back to the city, thanks to the Bastar
Solidarity Network (BSN)!
And it is with profound
memories of the two day PEOPLE'S LITERARY FESTIVAL that I
return back to the hills, stronger in my resolve to keep the rich stories of my land
alive.
I just read somewhere that there are as many as 67 lit
fests in a year in India- which I thought is really incredible. But what's
different about the People's Literary Festival Kolkata is the cause behind it. It celebrates people as much as it does literature. It celebrates humanity and talks about real things. About life at its best and at its worst. It talks about the truth.The stark reality of things. And that's what I really like about it. Because life can only be that- real.
For some reason, the Lit Fest also reminded me of Sylvia Plath's words- “And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise.”Perhaps because "fearless" is the word for it. I was certainly in the midst of bold and courageous writers, some of whose writings also created an uproar for speaking their minds. But somebody once said, "writing really only begins once we forget to be afraid", and I truly believe that fearless writing is at the heart of any good literature.
On a heartwarming note, that the Lit Fest was crowdfunded also left an indelible impression on me. I would never have guessed who was going to host me. A sheer coincidence to discover later that my host teaches at the college I graduated from. I traveled many years back to relive my college days- finding myself in that classroom of poetry- and somehow, all the happy memories of those beautiful years came rushing back. What a nice thing it is to reconnect!
I caught up with old friends I haven't seen in many years. The next evening, I walked the familiar streets again after an engrossing session of poetry. It started to rain as if it knew my love for it. And if nothing else, this has evoked in me a sense of belonging, and certainly more poetry.
I hope to return here again someday. If only to indulge in literature. Perhaps also to reconnect with the BSN. I know somewhere deep in my heart that they will continue to keep fighting the good fight. And may our stories, be it in words or deeds, be those that light somebody else's path!
PS: To my host- I remain grateful for all the love. For sharing your home with me. And for all the book talks. Not to forget the pen. I hope to write some poetry with it.
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