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Read an excerpt at : MeharaLit.
Praise for A Roll of the Dice:
‘A profoundly moving and uplifting book about the triumphant survival of life against all odds. It’ll go straight into your heart and expand its capacity for feeling. Read it and be changed.’ Neel Mukherjee
‘Powerful, moving, beautifully observed and wonderfully sensitive. It mines the depths and heights of human love and suffering and is perceptive about family dynamics, the weight of trauma and comfort of family support. The steady accretion of detail and emotion are exceptionally skilful; the book creeps up on you and steals your heart. I couldn’t stop reading once I started. I particularly like the observations of daily life in cities –the textured evocation of having to walk and talk, live, love and work in the ‘ordinary’ world –while going through operatic swings of emotion at the same time. Mona Dash is a powerful, important and fearlessly honest new voice – capable of looking the deepest suffering and the greatest joy full in the face.’ Bidisha
‘A writer of rare bravery, putting forward a manifesto against the tropes and delighting in subverting expectations.’ Roopa Farooki
‘A deeply affecting book, touching and beautifully rendered. A powerful read from an exciting new voice.’ Irenosen Okojie
‘A beautiful depiction of heartbreak and resilience. This memoir will open your eyes whilst also filling them with tears.’ Mahsuda Snaith
A Roll Of The Dice is a recollection of a ten-year journey by Mona into the world of genetic medicine starting from the beautiful plains of India, to the bustling city of London with myriads of fear, loss, grief, anger, love and patience which culminates into a test of faith and motherhood.
Told from the author’s point of view, the opening section lurches the reader straight into a tale of trepidation and auras of death. It explicitly narrates the life of an Indian woman, in this case, Mona, which revolves around a budding career and a blissful marriage until she decides to add a baby to her schedule and life humbles her with a child with SCID, a rare genetic disorder characterized by disturbed development of T and B cells. The outcome of this episode plunges her into a tunnel of protracted fear of conception, the possibility of having an XY child and the urgent need to flee a homeland that then, was no place for a mother who is a threat to her own progeny.
Thematically, the book explores medicine to a greater extent, then migration, family love, support, beliefs and travel. It evokes bouts of bittersweet emotions in no particular order like the aftermath of having little innocents that come with pains, the joy of having dual citizenship, the relief found in family and friendship and the assurance that comes with spiritual devotion.
The writing style, the vivid description of places, and in-depth presentation of medical practices in this book reflect an uninhibited rendering of a personal experience without half-truths, which leaves nothing to doubt and this, I found remarkable and courageous.
Some medical jargon such as CVS, bubble babies, SCID, deepest pool, PPROM stuck with me. Some lines like ‘a movie style fainting fit…,’ ‘around you the entire world is producing babies…,’ made me smile. Visiting of temples and lighting of candles in Notre Dame, made me wonder how far desperation can take one; and towards the end, I wished I could read more about Mister Smith and Dr. Thomas.
I wouldn’t stop at recommending this book to women battling with infertility, mothers of SCID children or those battling other genetic disorders but also to everyone because there are things we can’t ignore: the truth about the universe, inadequate health facilities in most countries, the need to acknowledge peoples’ pains and be grateful for one thing, being normal.
By Akuchidinma Raymonda M., Nigerian fiction writer and current Senior Editor, Media and Creative Director at MeharaLit.
Shortlisted for the 2018 SI Leeds Literary Prize.
Extract from The Act of Writing:
I imagine you come here with expectations. You want to hear tales, of the sari, of the mango, of cows and cow hooves kicking up a dry dust you will want to wipe off with a scented handkerchief. You want to hear of lavender, of turmeric, of jasmine soothing the hot summer evening in a distant tropical country. You expect to be told stories of a certain woman, a certain man in a certain way. You want to feel, but nothing beyond the ordinary, nothing you cannot stomach along with a thick steak, the knife a tad bloody from the rare meat.
Prepare then to be annoyed. Prepare to shake your heads at the lack of clichés. Prepare to throw away the book even. Prepare to be angry that anyone can write these stories nowadays, and no longer is it the right of the powerful, the strong, the erudite. That anyone can now take up a pen, a laptop and float words on the page, dipping into history and geography and creating; creating that which needn’t have been, or having taken form deserved to be demolished.
The story I want to write may be nothing you expect, or may be everything you desire. I don’t know yet you see. I can write about the place I am from, the shores I went to, the people I met. I can write about the accidents, the tragedies, the way people lost breath when they didn’t expect to, or were maimed and silenced. The blood which flowed when people attacked others, their homes, their bodies. Inspired by the books on war, I can, for example write about gas chambers or the site where a nuclear bomb ripped the soil and its heart, or I can write through the eyes of a little child whose parents kissed and were shot in front of his eyes. Except that it has been done before, in ways fourscore and one. I can write about the betrayal and naivety which led to foreign countries ruling my own, but that too has been done; the red and blue flag has been replaced a million times by the tricolor and evil has always been shown to be white. But why, I can fly across continents and write about modern wars, the one where planes drove into tall, proud towers, the one which is continuing everyday as delusional youth wield axes and knives or guns or strapping explosives on themselves aspire to explode and achieve heavendom, annihilating innocent people. Moved by the video of the civil war and watching neighbours bomb the Stari Most, I can explore the strife in countries far from my own.
There is so much to write.
But yes all that has been written before and I want to write something new, infinitely precious. So let me do this, a simple tale. A story told in three days…
Read more at The Citron Review.
‘It was a pleasure to read Mona’s writing for the first time, when she was shortlisted for the SI Leeds Literary Prize, and to introduce her work to the world. She is a writer of rare bravery, putting forward a manifesto against the tropes and delighting in subverting expectations.’ Roopa Farooki
‘Mona Dash’s verses have a civilised quality that will appeal to members of every diaspora. While holding Shiva and Durga dear she has embraced Claude Monet and the Palais Garnier. In short, she is a new woman of a new age’ Reginald Massey, poet
A Certain Way also contains poems that explore religious, spiritual and mythological themes. Dash finds it ‘comforting / … to see Shiva in this land’ and know that ‘the all-pervading / everything of Shiva’ is present in England, as much as in India. (‘Shiva’) ‘Metamorphosis’ interprets the Narcissus story through the medium of Salvador Dali’s painting ‘The Metamorphosis of Narcissus’.
A number of moving poems are on womanhood and motherhood. In ‘Woman’ Dash asserts her solidarity with women the world over:
Always, a different name,
a different country,
a different life.
But the same I
Love is a crucial theme running through Dash’s collection, as important as her focus on the diasporic situation. Many kinds of love are celebrated in her poems – the love between man and woman, a mother’s love, love for a father, love for a vampire, cynical love, wistful love, sensuous love, spiritual love and love that is lost. Love is a difficult subject to write about with originality, but I applaud Mona Dash for essaying it with courage and flair. In the fine poem ‘Happiness in Love’, Dash speculates on what expression gods and yogis would give to their joy in love, but asserts that human love can grow close to perfection:
You are you, I am I
a mere man, a mere woman,
we hurt, we pleasure
we try everything
to be closer together
to keep the oneness
as long as we can
with candles, aroma, tantra.
Sometimes I think,
in our happiness
we are almost there.
Many a first generation British Indian writer has commented on their diaspora experience – in poetry and in prose – and indeed some have done so memorably. While I welcome this first collection that adds to this growing body of literature, in my view, its author’s true forte lies in her intimate poems of connectivity. It is in these poems about personal relationships with people, places and traditions that emotions surface with authenticity. There may not be many answers in these poems, but Mona Dash does ask the right questions.
By Debjani Chatterjee, MBE, poet, scholar in The Book Review, June 2017. Read more at The Book Review Literary Trust.
An Uncertainty of the Certain
There is a great calmness at the heart of tears in Mona Dash’s windswept canvas of A Certain Way. A great objectivity and dispassionate detachment marks her profound involvement in the human experience of her own, yet universal suffering in the light, taut poems of time past, present, and yet to come – in which she locates the vast continents and depths of her mind, soul and body – uniting the acts of love, grief, and poetic release. In most of her poems the slight opening of the analysis is rapidly developed at the centre that takes off effortlessly into the universal from her personal, familiar observation: she carries us from her own world into the reaches of memory, desire, mood, thought and feeling that is the vessel from which we are carried from the mortal to the transcendent, from blood, bone and nerve into an eternal, solitary, yet all-embracing spiritual, soulful and almost celestial sphere.
“There are two voices at work here: the personal domestic one, and the bold public one,” writes Saleem Peeradina in the blurb. Indeed, the two worlds do not exclude one another in Mona’s poems but merge into a beautiful synthesis of detailed reality and evocative imagination like a martini delicately stirred, not shaken. The first poem, ‘A Certain Way’ juxtaposes the need to conform to Indian culture with the freedom to live life as you like allowed by the liberal culture of the West but again the need of conforming to that particular “public” culture:
As an immigrant,
I am expected to behave in a way,
A certain way…
The poem then continues to refer both to the Indian and English ‘way’s. With the memory of Frost’s ‘How way leads on to way’ in ‘The Road Not Taken’ and both the blending of the “domestic” (English) and now foreign Indian ‘way’s, the synthesis and contrast form a brilliant polar analysis. The first sentence, however, might have been less direct and blunt, in keeping with the technique of subtlety in Mona’s extremely delicate and elegantly crafted style: but reading the poem as a whole, one wonders, again, how else the statement could have been written. Followed by the impressionism of ‘Belonging’ (see the poem “Nympheas”) and “The Skin of Tradition,” the titles of all three are the definition of the elusive identity one must search for, but may never find, in neither location nor dislocation. ‘Typically,’ writes Peeradina, ‘she mirrors the lives of all migrants, in achieving a poetic disequilibrium suspended between belonging and dislocation’, almost as in the visualisations of the major paintings of Dali. A difficult achievement, accommodating, say, Van Gogh, and Dali (see the poem “Metamorphosis”) in building a striking technical and thematic structure.
The ‘bold personal’ voice leaves reality alone and takes us by the hand into the floating realms of emotion – primarily an overwhelming, heartfelt love, as in –
So close to the soul,
So close, only you. (‘His Gift’)
By Chandan Das (Late), poet, English professor. Read more at Muse India.
Mona Dash’s new collection of poems, A Certain Way, displays a heightened sensibility that straddles the East and the West. The poems reflect the narrative of displacement and question tradition and modernity in language that is lyrical and full of strong imagery. In ‘Home and Beyond,’ she writes about the many who pine for “the country they came from where the frangipani breathes, where the fish glisten…forgetting they were the ones who decided to leave the country of the narrow roads and claustrophobia.” A number of poems in the collection hark back nostalgically to a past and a way of life left behind.
This collection marks the arrival of a poet with an astute and sensitive awareness of what it means to arrive and leave.
By Reshma Ruia, author. Read more at Episteme.
Read an extract from Untamed Heart in the debut issue of Setu, in June 2016.
Untamed Heart: a praise song to the contemporary Indian woman
Mona Dash’s debut novel, Untamed Heart, is a praise song to the contemporary Indian woman coming of age in a patriarchal society that refuses to relinquish its orthodox views. In an India, struggling to hold ground between tradition and contemporaneity, enmeshed in a plethora of complexities, the female protagonist Mohini comes to terms with herself and the world around her. The meeting of East and West and the spaces they occupy geographically and culturally are marvellously portrayed in the novel. The response of the protagonist to her multicultural spaces is based on her own choices and at the same time, beyond her control. The strikingly beautiful protagonist is an ambivalent and complex character: martyr, deceiver and explorer in wilful pursuit of the world and a means of transcending her limitations. In Mohini’s dilemmas, we see the India existing in many tiers: the sanctimonious middle class India, the India of the emerging, educated upper class, the corporate India, the NRI India and the evolving female India. Opening at a critical moment in the protagonist’s life in New Delhi, the bustling capital of India, the novel takes the reader through a labyrinth of Mohini’s past, her present, her roller coaster emotions, her complex family life and her uncertain future.
By Usha Kishore, poet, scholar.
First published in LakeView International 68 LIJLA Vol.4, No.2 August 2016
Read more at pages 68-71 in issuu.
UNTAMED HEART by Mona Dash is a bold novel, engagingly told. It’s the saga of a modern, educated woman with accomplishments and deserving aspirations. She has the ability to impart a classical touch to anything she takes up or is into. Agreeing to get spliced, she turns into a homemaker doing her best for the joint family even at the cost of private space between her and her husband. So much so everyone in the family looks up to her. She becomes indispensable. But if things are stagnant, where is the spice? The irrepressible urge within her comes to the fore and urges her on, and she launches herself into a job with élan. Within no time she makes a name for herself to the envy of even her superiors. Her escapades take her even out of the country on business events and conferences. Singapore, Malaysia, UK, France, Sweden. This globe-trotting go-getter feels at home wherever she goes. An embodiment of free spirit, she yearns for more and more. Whatever she dreams of, she realises it. So is everything smooth and hunky-dory? How does she satisfy her husband, how does she satisfy the members in the joint family? To know answers to all these and to many more unsaid, do grab your copy of UNTAMED HEART, and race through the 324 page novel packed with woman-power. Kudos to Mona for the unique plot and theme, for enriching the story with a mass of relevant inputs, for creating the right atmosphere from scene to scene, and for being photographic in detail wherever demanded, and for her narrative skills.
By U. Atreya Sarma, Editor Muse India.
Dawn-drops is a collection of poems, published by Writer’s Workshop, India