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A review by shorshewitch
Chokher Bali by Radha Chakravarty, Rabindranath Tagore
5.0
I do not think I am worthy enough to review this epic saga of relationships. There is a reason it went on to become one of the classics of Bengali literature. So this is not a review. Just a few blabbers.
Gurudev Tagore ji has had a way of weaving emotional intricacies and realistic but unconventional narration, into one piece of writing - thereby creating an extravagant story of love, affection, deceit, adultery, friendship, arrogance, childhood, lust and above all extremely convincing characters. Ashalata's innocence, Binodini's brazenness, Mahendra's egotism, Bihari's devotion, Rajlakshmi's inhibitions and Annapurna's unconditional maternal love - every single character of this ambitious story is delightfully authentic. The writing elicits secret insecurities hidden inside the depths of a man's mind. Tagore ji takes us through the lanes and by-lanes of "Calcutta" (Not Kolkata) and a reader unknowingly gets intimately connected to the city and its delicious essence. I vouch that once you get into the skin of the "Haveli" and the characters, you would not stay much away from the aroma of "Maacher Jhol", and the coolness of the fragrant breeze, and the quiet murmur of dried leaves, and the vehement downpour of the raindrops. The emotions remain incomplete as the story ends. You would want more of more out of the story but you know you will not and that is the rawness of it all.
Gurudev Tagore ji has had a way of weaving emotional intricacies and realistic but unconventional narration, into one piece of writing - thereby creating an extravagant story of love, affection, deceit, adultery, friendship, arrogance, childhood, lust and above all extremely convincing characters. Ashalata's innocence, Binodini's brazenness, Mahendra's egotism, Bihari's devotion, Rajlakshmi's inhibitions and Annapurna's unconditional maternal love - every single character of this ambitious story is delightfully authentic. The writing elicits secret insecurities hidden inside the depths of a man's mind. Tagore ji takes us through the lanes and by-lanes of "Calcutta" (Not Kolkata) and a reader unknowingly gets intimately connected to the city and its delicious essence. I vouch that once you get into the skin of the "Haveli" and the characters, you would not stay much away from the aroma of "Maacher Jhol", and the coolness of the fragrant breeze, and the quiet murmur of dried leaves, and the vehement downpour of the raindrops. The emotions remain incomplete as the story ends. You would want more of more out of the story but you know you will not and that is the rawness of it all.