They Were My Heroes

Knitted by verses indulged with tempo Mohul Bhowmicks latest offering- They Were My Heroes- is a pre-eminent contribution to the domain of Indian poetry in English. Sporadically merged with manoeuvres that carry the enterprise past the realm of common comprehension it is laced with both joy and pain. The course of a vigorous dalliance now ended rears its head and in mitigation Bhowmick probes into the anguish that he suffers.  Like the majority of his work in poetry this book too is semi-autobiographical; the obsessions evasions and fixations that it unveils are a sight to behold. Coming a year after his highly acclaimed debut in travel writing Bhowmick is back to doing what he does best- asking questions of himself with subtle nudges. Arriving a long time after it was first conceived this collection consists of a hundred poems. It is divided into four sections: Travel Capers Demons Romantic Leftovers and Residues of the Heart. Each resists its own intricacies with sophistication touching the reader with every note and chord. In the process national-level cricketer Bhowmick finds himself facing a wall that no sunrise can erase or obliterate.