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Amitava Chakrabarty. So I Used Gray and Other Poems. Writers Workshop.  pp 61.  The book is priced at Rs 120/- in India + postal charges.

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Amitava Chakrabarty is a class I Marine Officer of Kolkata Port Trust by profession and a writer, journalist and poet by passion. As a freelance journalist, he has contributed several reports in Hindustan Times. The Statesman has published his letters/ articles/ stories and poems in its respective columns. His poems were published in Times of India and Asian Age. He is regularly published in numerous journals, e-magazines and anthologies in India and abroad. He is an Honorary Life member of Metverse Muse and a member of World Poets' Society, Greece. His first anthology of poems, entitled Solitude, has received favourable review in the domain of poetry. Chakrabarty is one of the winners of the 1st publishing contest of

Amitave Chakrabarty's second book of poems, So I Used Gray and Other Poems was published in December 2010.


This issue is a work of art. It is a book containing poems of love pathos and satires against social evils. Its a way to revolt against the corrupt political system. It delves deep into the love hate passion hope and hopelessness of a common man.

THERE are poets who dwell in the realms of allegory for the sake of it, which particular aesthetic bent often impedes the soft lyrical grace of their verse. Chakrabarty is certainly not one of them. The thousand incitements of postmodern versification notwithstanding — especially the urge to appear complex and render audible through a lonely voice a million gasps — Chakrabarty likes rollicking in the archaic splendour of romanticism; likes spending sublime hours in his secluded nook listening to the “still sad music of humanity”. He prefers lyricism to jarring symbolism and his poetry springs from the depths of his wounded liberalism — his is a subdued voice, not complaining but moaning the ills of the world and the transience of life that subverts every human attempt at constructing meaning and values.

This frustrated metaphysical quest lies at the root of Chakrabarty’s poetry, giving his metaphors meaning and making his irony pointed: a irony that cuts through shallow political verisimilitude and cultural commonplaces in its search for the truly tragic. At turns acerbic and grim, his irony seldom degenerates into savagery, of the sort readers of contemporary poetry are pretty familiar with, and his satire — never condescending but almost always sharp — relentlessly and unfailingly exposes the inconsistencies inherent in conventional social norms and the foibles and frailties that hold back the possibility of self-knowledge — the poet’s sovereign and inalienable objective.

Rejecting the myriad allurements of abstract symbolism and the urge to indulge in semantic quibbles, Chakrabarty’s free-flowing verse, often embroidered in rhyme, dishes out emotions, ideas and conflicts characterising modern life in a manner befitting a mind immersed in the profound pleasures of poetry.

The first stanza of the short poem "Wounded" would suffice to demonstrate Chakrabarty’s characteristic poetic qualities:

Those loving touches on me you left
Are wounds that don’t heal,
And all the bliss I ever dreamt —
Haunt my senses still.

Honest, simple, straightforward, the product of a mind lost in the uncontrived, idyllic world of love, basking in a newfound inner serenity that follows every honest confession… readers wouldn’t be far off the mark in drawing an inevitable parallel between the poet of Wounded and the young Wordsworth.

Many of the poems that have found their way into the collection first appeared in The Statesman. An unmistakably original voice, Chakrabarty would surely appeal to a wide cross section of readers, not least because of the effortless amalgam of social awareness and lyrical charm his work showcases.

The Statesman




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