Chakmak

299.00

Author: Ramesh Karthik Nayak
ISBN: 978-81-953056-9-8
Pages: 72

By the winner of the Sahitya Akademi Yuva Puraskar 2024 for Telugu

Winner of the Muse India Young Writer Award 2024 for Poetry

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Ramesh Karthik Nayak’s poems are marked by rich imagery, poignant stanzas, and moving stories about his people. I enjoyed reading his poems. — Hansda Sowvendra Shekhar  

Ramesh Karthik Nayak distills all the pains and fears of his tribe to create a poetry of intense suffering and profound communion with nature. There is something primal, elemental, about his poetry that helps the reader distinguish it from the dominantly urban Indian English poetry. The poet brings a fresh voice, a new tone, and timbre seldom seen in traditional English poetry in the country, without making his poetry less sophisticated. — K Satchidanandan

Through his poems, Ramesh Karthik Nayak presents the celebratory life of the Banjara people; at the same time, he questions his existence. The questions he poses to us are both poignant and plausible. The poet expresses the truth with spontaneity and ferocity that if we are untouchables then, from nature to your vitality to your body, everything in this world has been touched by us. — Sukirtharani

Ramesh Karthik Nayak’s poems represent the dimensionalisation of Indian poetry in English. It’s appalling to think that a mature collection of poetry from a tribal/nomadic tribe poet had to wait for so long after Maucauley’s initiatives. Anchored in his cultural inheritance, Nayak documents with elan his dreams for the future. — Chandramohan S

Ramesh Karthik Nayak (b 1997) is a Banjara (nomadic aboriginal community in South Asia) writer from India. He writes in the Banjara dialect through the Telugu script and in Telugu and English. He is one of the first writers to depict the lifestyle of the Banjara tribe in literature. His writings have appeared in Poetry at Sangam, Indian Periodical, Live Wire, Outlook India, Nether Quarterly, and Borderless Journal and his story, ‘The Story of Birth’ was published in Exchanges: Journal of Literary Translation, University of IOWA. He was thrice shortlisted for the Sahitya Akademi Yuva Puraskar in Telugu for the years 2021, 2022, and 2023 for his poetry and short story collections. One of his poems ‘Jarer Baati’ is part of the undergraduate (fifth semester, BA Telugu) syllabus of SR&BGNR Govt Degree College, Khammam, and his debut collection Balder Bandi is a part of the MA Telugu (fourth semester) syllabus of Andhra University. Chakmak is his first collection of poems in English. The poet can be reached at [email protected].

Reviews

Ramesh Karthik Nayak in conversation with Mitali Chakravarty in Borderless Journal

I grew up with the Telugu language. In 1999/ 2000, I was sent to a private school for my education. From then onwards, I thought I was a Telugu. Later, I realised I’m a Gor (Banjara/ Lambadi). Now I am a hybrid Gor. I want to localise myself from hybridity. I have published two books in Telugu. One is in English. These three books are just an introduction to an existing community. To write down the sensibilities and other things, I think this life won’t be enough. There is only one book which I haven’t been able to publish yet, written in Gor Boli with Telugu script. I’m comfortable with Telugu. People tell me that I stammer when I speak Gor Boli. They also say my way of speaking is like that of a child. Nowadays, I believe I’m comfortable with Telugu, Banjara (Gor Boli) and English.

Palash Mahmud in Kitaab.org

Why do we go back to our past to meet with our roots? Times pass by as far as ahead but we can’t leave behind the world where our constructed lives and evolved consciousness refuges. We cannot erase them from our collective memory. They remain, whether we exist or not. This sense of eternal returning to the ancestral identity vibrates and echoes from the “Spells of their past lives”, the prime verse of the first poem “Butterflies” to “They always wish they wander/into black clouds like Banjara Tribes:/the people with no address on the earth,/gypsies in the tale of times.”, the last stanza of the penultimate poem “Peacock” from the debut English poetry collection titled “Chakmak” (Red River Press, August 2023) penned by Ramesh Karthik Nayak, one of the pioneering poets from Banjara Tribes in South India, who writes in multiple languages namely Telugu, English, and Banjara dialect, the raw and rare incident in contemporary Indian poetry and a prime asset for the world literature from wandering people as we already have the enchanting American poet, Natalie Diaz.

Kabir Deb in Outlook

Nayak’s poetry is all about the creation of smaller stories around the larger ones. The charm lies in the different triggers of awakening: some of them growl with grief, some take on the reality that consumes our dreams, the rest mould the images of detrimental and developed situations. When a poet who is celebrated as a master of his language writes a book for a larger circle of readers of the English language, the responsibility is to outshine the yesterday. Chakmak successfully pierces through the expired shards of our silence and finds its own voice.

Owshnik Ghosh in The Antonym

Another important aspect to be noticed in the poet’s approach is that from the first to the last poems he tries to create an alternative identity of himself and the people of his community. He never allows the reader to feel familiar with the poet. The process of otherization is very important. As human beings we all may be the same, but other than that people will have distinctions in each and every way possible. We have to understand and at the same time respect the unfamiliarity between one people and another, between one community and another. Ramesh’s poetry once again points to this aspect.

From the Book

Butterflies

Cursed witches
possess the life of butterflies —

colour-dust of each flower
alight on papery wings.
Butterflies — some buzz aflutter
while some suckle nectar.
An emptiness occupies eyes,
hearts melt on petals.
The darkness of lust
seduces colours on wings.
Vagrant glances pin down butterflies
onto the pyre of wilted petals.
Spells of their past lives
force flowers to effervesce in abundance.
The season that ashes the world
tramples creatures into a netherworld.
A Prayer
Earth,
goddess of everything.
Horizons appear and disappear
Creatures fall ill in this polluted world.
Trees change into idols,
are drenched with blood.
Islands and museums of tribes
are bottled in glass jars.
Oh earth, eternal of all,
take back everything into your womb
take back everything with you.
The Moon
A white bird
in the quest for star grains.
A white boat
in the boundless dark blue ocean.
A white wound
in the labyrinth of life.
A golden tree that blossoms white
inside an enchanting forest
of a tribal hamlet.
A signature of hope
in the broken pieces of a mirror.
Ancestors 
Darkness rains
when bats weep in chorus.
Night thickens as katkya
where living beings go back to wombs.
Beyond the sky our ancestors
wait for news from earth.
Fireflies carry
our whereabouts to bloomed stars,
stars turn into buds.
Our ancestors
stash the buds they gathered,
buds turn into golden seeds,
they sow them in the soil of the sky
to harvest human beings.
Creation 
The frozen snake
guarding the egg of earth
doesn’t have life or death.
The egg of earth breaks,
forming a hieroglyph on its shell
as it gets old.
There are cowrie shells
corn, jowar, sand
and the water inside it.
Creatures reincarnate
inside the egg, mortgaging
language after they form
a heart to understand.
Gun
It always
hides metal seeds
of volcanoes and
new wars inside.
They are as heavy
as human lives.
Bullets pumped into
the flesh of soil
tear the earth-tissue
into pieces
as blood
creeps into the ground
to roots.
Not one seed —
there are thousands that
yearn for the effigies
of tribal people.
The deluge of bullets
is never accompanied
by reason, except
their statement:
it has to be done.