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"It was a wonderful experience interacting with you and appreciate the way you have planned and executed the whole publication process within the agreed timelines.”
Subrat SaurabhAuthor of Kuch Woh Pal
'I Must Stand Guard Over My Home'. is a translation of indigenous Jharkhandi poetry, delivering the undiluted voices of native poets into a global conversation.
These poems will unsettle you.
They will rouse you to question the demands to supplicate enforced patriotism.
Vanshika’s passion for Anuj Lugun and Jacinta Kerketta’s work is evident in her dedication to preserving their authenticity and amplifying thei
'I Must Stand Guard Over My Home'. is a translation of indigenous Jharkhandi poetry, delivering the undiluted voices of native poets into a global conversation.
These poems will unsettle you.
They will rouse you to question the demands to supplicate enforced patriotism.
Vanshika’s passion for Anuj Lugun and Jacinta Kerketta’s work is evident in her dedication to preserving their authenticity and amplifying their voices to a wider audience. Her skilful and nuanced translations have done justice to the words of Anuj Lagan and Jacinta Kerketta. I’m thankful to her for taking these efforts to put together a small and lovely volume of their best poems.
-Meena Kandaswamy
did it hurt?: A collection of poems which will make you stammer before you beat the walls. Fabricated with the internal agony the poems keep your tears safely enclosed within. Your chest being hollowed out by the fragility of humans and wild invites of nightmares. Wide open, like a wound, like blackened oak exploring the
vivid graphics of midnight rumblings. It is a cemetery of grief where you can bury yourself.
did it hurt?: A collection of poems which will make you stammer before you beat the walls. Fabricated with the internal agony the poems keep your tears safely enclosed within. Your chest being hollowed out by the fragility of humans and wild invites of nightmares. Wide open, like a wound, like blackened oak exploring the
vivid graphics of midnight rumblings. It is a cemetery of grief where you can bury yourself.
did it hurt?: A collection of poems which will make you stammer before you beat the walls. Fabricated with the internal agony the poems keep your tears safely enclosed within. Your chest being hollowed out by the fragility of humans and wild invites of nightmares. Wide open, like a wound, like blackened oak exploring the
vivid graphics of midnight rumblings. It is a cemetery of grief where you can bury yourself.
did it hurt?: A collection of poems which will make you stammer before you beat the walls. Fabricated with the internal agony the poems keep your tears safely enclosed within. Your chest being hollowed out by the fragility of humans and wild invites of nightmares. Wide open, like a wound, like blackened oak exploring the
vivid graphics of midnight rumblings. It is a cemetery of grief where you can bury yourself.
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