Biography of Joy Goswami
Joy Goswami is an Indian poet. Goswami writes in Bengali and is widely considered as one of the most important Bengali poets of his generation.
Joy was born in Kolkata. His family moved to Ranaghat, West Bengal shortly after and he has lived there ever since. Goswami was introduced to and encouraged with respect to poetry by his father, a well-known political worker in the area. He lost his father at the age of six, after which the family was sustained by his mother, a teacher. She died in 1984. Goswami's formal education stopped early, in grade eleven. By this time he was already writing poetry. After a long period of writing in little magazines and periodicals, his writing was finally published in the influential Desh Patrika. This brought his immediate critical acclaim and so long after his first poetry collection was published, named Christmas o Sheeter Sonnetguchchho (Sonets of Christmas and Winter). He has received the Anita-Sunil Basu Award from the Bangla Academy, Govt of W.B. the prestigious Ananda Purashkar in 1989 for Ghumiyechho, Jhaupata? (Have you slept, Pine leaf?) and the Sahitya Akademi Award, 2000 for his anthology Pagali tomara sange(With you, O crazy girl).
Joy Goswami's Works:
Christmas o Sheeter Sonnetguchchho (1976)
Aleya Hrod (1981)
Unmader Pathokromo (1986)
Ghumiyechho Jhaupata? (1989)
Jara Brishtite Bhijechhilo
Mrito Nagorir Raja
Phulgachhe Ki Dhulo (2011)
Bajrabidyu_t-bharti khata. Kalakata: Ananda Pabali'sarsa, 1995.
Bishada. Kalakata: Ananda Pabali'sarsa, 1998.
Hrdaye premera ´sirsha. Kalakata: Ananda Pabali'sarsa, 1994.
Jaga_tabari. Kalakata: Ananda Pabali'sarsa, 2000.
Kabitasamgraha. Kalakata: Ananda Pabali'sarsa, <1997-2001>
Ma nishada. Kalakata: Ananda Pabali'sarsa, 1999.
Manoramera upanyasa. Kalakata : Ananda Pabali'sarsa, 1994.
Oh svapna! Kalakata: Ananda Pabali'sarsa, 1996.
Pagali, tomara sange. Kalakata: Ananda Pabali'sarsa, 1994.
Patara po'saka. Kalakata: Ananda Pabali'sarsa, 1997.
Pretapurusha o anupama katha. Kalakata: Ananda, 2004.
Raudrachayara samkalana. Kalakata: Ananda Pabali'sarsa, 1998.
Sam'sodhana ba katakuti. Kalakata: Ananda Pabali'sarsa, 2001.
Sanjhabatira rupakathara. Kalakata: Ananda Pabali'sarsa, 1998.
Seisaba seyalara. Kalakata: Ananda Pabali'sarsa, 1994.
Shanjhbati's dreams = Shanjhbatir rupkathara. New Delhi: Srishti Publishers & Distributors, 2004.
Suranga o pratiraksha. Kalakata: Ananda Pabali'sarsa, 1995.
Surya-pora chai. Kalakata: Ananda Pabali'sarsa, 1999.
Yara brshtite bhijechila. Kalakata: Ananda Pabali'sarsa, 1998.
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Joy Goswami Poems
Suspicion comes and sits on his shoulder one morning, Slowly with long, thin beak, it cleans his ear
A Bathroom Fairytale
Lay yourself down, when you wish to be born lay yourself down in a grassy field meadow pasture lay yourself down and say Ma Baba Ma Baba Soon your body will become this tiny in the morning Office-goers will see on the grass drops of dew
If You Must Ask Me
If you ask me, 'what have you done with your life' then I must tell you...
Don’t Wait For Your Lover Any Longer
Dusk has fallen. Go home. Don’t wait any more. Trees, flats, trees, signboard, trees In between the slate sky
Poem From Another Land
By deeper water, upon greener rock, I had pitched my tent And washed away with care the colour of my scream Your bone and stone ornaments dried on wet rock And Night would spread its blue-black skin upon the water
An Evening Of Rain
An eye had wandered, to another’s beloved, her leg. When, carelessly, her sari lifted just a little - Outside, the rain comes down. A lantern’s been lowered underneath the table, in the dark
Rain-Drenched Winds In My Sleep
When did light string me to sleep’s dark branches, O Tamal, When did peacocks enter night's township go from door to door peddling songs!
Dead peacock in the dream The moonlight fell upon his body Cactus in the veranda Room besides the roof
Ash moves in the room, printed in darkness Paper, book, cover, painting, the call of dead birds--- Ashes moving in the room, what is suppressed in the room One trunk of stories wants to rise up from the floor
Things Recalled At Night
All that rainfall Laid out in the rainfall, all those dead bodies Beating at the dead bodies, all that wind Trembling with the wind but not billowing out, all those
In The Evening Sadness Comes...
In the evening sadness comes and stands by the door, his face Is hidden, from the dying sun he took some colors and painted his body The sadness comes in the evening, I stretched my hand and he caught my wrist, in an iron-hard clasp
This One Noon
This noon I do not sleep, I do not wake, I do not die, I do not live Time enters the room through the window, until this noon I did not know my hand, my own thin hand is a lyre
A name I’ve written on a blade of grass On the date my mother breathed her last.
Wars march into the past
Wars march into the past Peak upon peak rising Towards tips of frost Behind them the little houses Sit their bright lights on For the men they have lost
A name I’ve written on a blade of grass
On the date my mother breathed her last.
[Translated from 'Batshorik' (Bengali) by Oindrila Mukherjee]