RIP Vinod Kumar Shukla (1937-2025)

Renowned Hindi writer Vinod Kumar Shukla, who passed away on 23 December, a few days before his 89th birthday, was perhaps one of the most popular and well-regarded writers of our time. His voice was reticent as it was distractive, his writing simple yet filled with profound magical realism, writing both poetry and prose from his birth place, Raipur in Chhattisgarh, far away from the centre of Hindi writing in Delhi. 

He was honoured with the Jnanpith Award in 2024/2025. Previously, he won the Sahitya Akademi Award for Deewar Mein Ek Khidki Rehti Thi. He was also the first Indian author to receive the PEN/Nabokov Award for Achievement in International Literature. 

It is testament of his talent that his works have been extensively published in English translation much before translations from Indian languages become a cultural movement. Among his translators, his poems have been extensively translated by the poet, Arvind Krishna Malhotra (published as The Treasury of Piggy Banks by Westland in 2024).    

Shukla was born on 1 January 1937 in Rajnandgaon, Chhattisgarh. Over a career spanning several decades, Shukla wrote in all genres, starting with novels and short stories to poetry. His works often reflected magic realism tinged with deep human insight. His narrative approach was rooted in everyday experiences, yet it held an existential and philosophical resonance that turned the ordinary into something extraordinary.

His first novel Naukar Ki Kameez, published in 1979, was adapted into a film by Mani Kaul. Shukla's style, which has been described or categorised as lyrical, meditative, and almost surreal, had an influence on generations of writers and readers who discovered through his writings a mirror of the complexities of life through his writings. 

In 2022, Shukla created a furore in the literary circles when he accused his publishers of cheating him of royalty via a video message, saying, “Mujhe dhokha diya gaya hai,” accusing them of hiding sales figures and denying the royalty he was owed.

In 2025, in a turn of poetic justice, Shukla received a cheque of INR 30 lakh in Raipur, from Hind Yugm, a decade-old publishing house. The amount, Hind Yugm, claimed, is just six months of royalty for Shukla’s novel Deewar Mein Ek Khidki Rahti Thi, which has sold more than 86,000 copies in that period.

The writer is gone, but his writing will live on.

 

 Poetry at Sangam now has a new home at poetryatsangam.com.

To celebrate the revival, the poet Nabina Das recommends two poets who appeared in the pages of Poetry at Sangam, including your truly (featuring three translations of the Assamese poet, Lutfa Hanum Salima Begum).

Glad to be sharing the space with Anjali Purohit whose work I adore. Her book, Go Talk to the River: the Ovis of Bahinabai Choudhari (Yoda Press, 2019), is an underappreciated gem. 

Thank you, Nabina, for the shoutout. 

And thank you, Priya, for everything that you do for poetry. 

Nabina Das: http://poetryatsangam.com/2013/09/nabina-das/

Nabina Das selects:

Anjali Purohit: http://poetryatsangam.com/2019/09/anjali-purohit/

Dibyajothi Sarma: http://poetryatsangam.com/2023/03/dibyajyoti-sarma/

      

So, since I am not sleeping well, I am having these vivid dreams. 

In last night’s dream, I was with Priyanka. She is now a big shot, doing some kind of wheeling-dealing, some kind of wish-granting voodoo queen, operating from a fancy hotel in a fancy city. I meet her because I have some money issues–I always have money issues, and we leave the hotel to go to my place, or her place. I think I am in a hurry. So, instead of getting a cab or other transport, we decide to take a walk. Soon, we leave the shiny city behind. First, we go through an unkept park, with large trees and foliage, and broken benches and swings, and then we reach a hilly terrain with loose gravel on the road. Priyanka says it reminds her of Udaipur. 

There, on the road, I see a large rose-like flower made of wool, or maybe it’s a fancy hat. As is my wont, I pick it up. It feels nice, I think I will keep it. Then my fingers touch something slimy, like spit, like mucus. I throw it away and wipe my fingers on my trousers. I do not tell Priyanka about it. 

We chitchat about something or other, nothing serious, all good, something about Soumya Agarwal getting married again. We wish her well.

Then I start to feel weird, woozy. Like I haven’t eaten in days. Like I would fall asleep right now.

Then we reach a huge temple courtyard. As we reach the temple, Priyanka notices one of her friends. Not her friend exactly. She calls her one of her readers, whatever that means. The friend is excited to see her and drags her to meet her in-laws. She is surrounded by a whole lot of older women. 

I want to go find a tea stall. I think some tea will do me good. I want to tell Priyanka that I will be back in a jiffy, but I am faced with a stern-looking older woman. I tell her to tell Priyanka that I will be back, but I doubt that she would. 

There are no tea shops in the large temple complex. So I enter into one of the small gullies, like the gullies of Benares. I find a small tea shop in a hole in the wall, with just the old tea seller, and his black cat. I ask for tea and he immediately gives me a glass of lukewarm tea. I ask him to make another cup and ask if he has khari to go with the tea. He shows me an assortment of locally-made breads and cakes, all of which look unappetising. So, he says he will make me a cheese sandwich. 

The sandwich tastes especially good, soft, melts in the mouth, the way I like it. Even the lukewarm tea feels nourishing. 

As I savour the sandwich, the aforementioned cat inches close to me and tries to take the sandwich away from me. 

In response, I bite into his outstretched paw and suddenly, the cat turns into a child, about six years old, naked except for a diaper. Then he says in a clear voice, ‘Ouch! You bit me. Why?’

‘Because you wanted to bite me,’ I reply, oblivious to the metamorphosis. As if the child was always there and there was never a cat.

‘Now, I will bite you,’ the child says. He grabs my right hand and bites my ring finger. His teeth are sharp. My finger pricks and a drop of blood falls on the mud floor between the kid and me. And oh, we are both sitting on the floor.

Now, suddenly, I feel better. Now, I want to get back to the temple knowing that Priyanka would be concerned about me and she has no way to reach me. I pay the shopkeeper and get ready to leave.  

Then the child holds my hand and asks me to wait. I need to do something first before leaving. 

Thus, begins a hero’s journey, I suppose, but I woke up!

Avanav

Virchand Dharamsey, 

edited by Hemant Dave 

Released last week, the 46+312-page (including general index of 20 pages in three columns) book contains 22 articles plus two interviews with Virchand Dharamsey, and 150 photographs.

Published by Asiatic Society of Mumbai, and printed by India Printing Works, the book also includes an exhaustive introduction situating Virchand Dharamsey’s contributions and the intellectual climate of his times.

The subjects include Bhagwanlal Indraji and the history of Indian archaeology, Parsi theatre, silent cinema and contributions of Gujaratis to it, the advent of sound in cinema, Sagar Film Company, Satyajit Ray, sculptural and pictorial art and depiction of death. 

The other subjects include tribal art, history of Gujarati painting traditions, contributions of Parsis to Gujarati language and literature, the cultural history of Mumbai, Forbes and his Rasmala, and interviews with Nalini Swali and Prabhakar Barve.

Virchand Dharmasey (1935-2023): A self-taught scholar who built a priceless repository of knowledge

Read Murali Ranganathan’s tribute to Virchand Dharmasey here. https://scroll.in/article/1047068/virchand-dharmasey-1935-2023-a-self-taught-scholar-who-built-up-a-repository-of-knowledge

The book this week recommended by Dibyajyoti Sarma is Vineet Gill’s Here and Hereafter: Nirmal Verma’s Life in Literature

Published by Penguin Random House India; typeset in Dante MT Std by Jojy Philip; printed at Replika Press

The book this week recommended by Dibyajyoti Sarma is Salman Rushdie’s Victory City

Published by Penguin Random House India (Hamish Hamilton); typeset in Adobe Caslon Pro; printed at Thomson Press

The book this week recommended by Dibyajyoti Sarma is Yashaswini Chandra’s The Tale of the Horse: A History of India on Horseback

Published by Picador India (Pan Macmillan); typeset in Adobe Caslon Pro by R Ajith Kumar; printed at Replika Press 

The book this week recommended by Dibyajyoti Sarma is Lambee Kahaniyan: Hans Ke Pacheech Barchon (1986 se 2001) Ka Chayan (Long Stories: Selection from 25 Years (1986-2001) of Hans), series edited by Rajendra Yadav and edited by Archana Verma

Published by Vani Prakashan; printed at Om Offset, Delhi

 

So excited to see three short stories from Assam, from two languages — Assamese and Bengali — in this beautiful collection of short fiction — Redolent Rush: Contemporary Indian Short Fiction in Translation, presented by Kiriti Sengupta and edited by Somudranil Sarkar and Sheenjini Ghosh — Bipasha Bora’s Ka Sinsa’s Piglet, translated by yours truly, and Nandita Devi’s No More Dauks in the Wetlands and Debabrata Choudhury’s Abbajaan’s Bones, both translated by Anindita Kar.

Published by Hawakal.

Highly recommended!

The book this week recommended by Dibyajyoti Sarma is Salman Rushdie’s Victory City

Published by Hamish Hamilton (Penguin Random House); typeset in Adobe Caslon Pro; printed at Thomson Press