Description
From the boat, I could only see the eyes, gleaming. Were they real?
The jungle seemed to meld and metamorphose into long forgotten imaginings inspired by grandma’s nightly narrations, sometimes on the terrace under a glittering night sky, at others, in the sweltering heat of a mosquito net hanging in loose folds around our limp and sweaty bodies.
A mosquito whined incessantly at my ears but my eyes were on the burning pinpoints. A slow thrill crept up my body. Was it a hungry beast? I hugged myself tight, mesmerised, trying to hold the focused, intent gaze. Then it moved away. The darkness was impenetrable. The river quiet.
These are hauntingly powerful stories, measured and yet expansive in their pace, clear and evocative in the telling. — Aamer Hussein
The lyrical gravitas of Sucharita Dutta-Asane’s writing makes her among the most exceptional of the current generation. — Priya Sarukkai Chabria
Sucharita Dutta-Asane’s stories take the reader from the suspense and tension of horror to complex, immersive tales, all tied together by her critical social awareness. — Indira Chandrasekhar
Sucharita Dutta-Asane has written a remarkable story that deftly and delicately breaks down the awful spectre of big-city violence. On a technical level, the piece meets almost all the traditional criteria of a ‘good story’, but the writer’s real triumph lies in the way she controls her audience, gently manipulating and guiding the reader to an end that will change the way most of us think about the cities we inhabit. — Judges’ Note for ‘Rear View’ that won the Dastaan Award, 2013
‘Half a Story’, one of the stories in Sucharita Dutta-Asane’s collection, is a good metaphor for her ambition: the night, where many of these stories take place, is the unknown half of our lives. For, our stories are day-stories; where are the stories of the night? Sucharita’s aim is to make, to borrow Milton’s phrase, darkness visible. Night classes, night duty, the night life, mosquitoes, sleep, blankets, dampness that produces mushrooms, fireflies, locked rooms, dusky streets, trains stopping at night, sex and bodies at night, boats at night, Gautama leaving home at night — you’ll emerge out of these moving and sensuous stories — stories about the day’s cast-aways — sticky with night. — Sumana Roy
Sucharita Dutta Asane’s stories are about — among other things — memories, revelations, and coming to terms. They have been told with love, and there is a personal touch in each story which makes this collection so engrossing yet so intimate. — Hansda Sowvendra Shekhar
Sucharita’s stories unfold as gently as flowers at night, till, surrounded by their fragrance, the reader becomes as involved in the lives of her protagonists as they themselves! Her writing is strong, empathetic, thought-provoking, and despite its softness — or because of it — brings into sharp and sudden focus issues that surround us every day. — Rohini Chowdhury
Sucharita Dutta-Asane’s stories have a quixotic edge to them, painting an unfamiliar picture of an India. Here you are more likely to encounter the unexpected twists of life as a reporter on the crime beat, or a temple priest’s wife who refuses to conform to what is expected of her. Change comes slowly to some aspects of India, but it comes — for better or worse — inevitably. — Farah Ghuznavi
Dutta-Asane’s stories are plucked from the margins of the narratives of reality. From the gaps in journalistic reportage. Her characters are people you would barely notice while on your way during rush hour, because they are so familiar. Which is probably why when she lobs the stories at the reader, one instinctively wants to step aside. In Dutta-Asane’s perspective, the ordinary is full of enigma. — Shikhandin, in Scroll
Each story in this collection discloses the darkness of these times and the complexities of the conflicts between men and women, landowners and the dispossessed, the powerful and powerless, and also the way we evade our responsibilities to do something to change the status quo, resulting in the destruction of what is good in us. — Jonaki Ray, Cha Journal
Sucharita’s building of atmosphere and tracing of character, her expertise in handling language take us to places where only the mind has access. — Shreekumar Varma, in Deccan Herald
The stories, in which the shades and moods alike tilt towards the preternatural, emerge from the gaps in journalistic reportage about being cast out in different ways. — Archana Pai Kulkarni, She the People
Dark, contemplative and moody, this anthology isn’t something you can pick up when you want to unwind with a cup of tea on a lazy Sunday. They put you in a deep, introspective trance because they often discuss character flaws and social inequities that we’re all aware of but shrug away because we can’t do anything about them, or won’t. Through her stories, these deep-seated insecurities about our behavioural issues and social mores become monsters scarier than any conventional supernatural beings. — Pradita Kapahi
Dutta-Asane is a gifted storyteller. She knows how to evoke an atmosphere, often dark and foreboding, and she knows how to end a story. — Dibyajyoti Sarma, Sakaal Times
These stories vibrate with the anxieties of our times. They ask questions. The author’s strength is eschewing over-determined meanings, shunning over-parented characters, letting ambiguity show the way to the ethical. Nothing provokes thought as the right question framed through the mouth of protagonist who is confronting hypocrisies, within herself or in the society. — Varsha Tiwary, Usawa Literary Review
Sucharita Dutta-Asane is a writer and independent book editor based out of Pune. She edits Red River Story, the prose imprint of Red River. Sucharita is fiction editor at The Bangalore Review. Her second collection of short fiction, These Tongues That Grow Roots, was published in October 2024. In 2023. Her stories have been translated into Marathi and Spanish.
Cast Out: Stories was first published as Cast Out and Other Stories by Dhauli Books in 2018. The book was recommended for the Sahitya Akademi Award for English in 2024.
