We are Not a Museum

<p class="ql-align-justify">An exquisite collection of poems, where history and lyricism dwell in the memory of the Jews of Kochi, where time and centuries of persecution have tried to erase them. Pramila Venkateswaran is a poet of resilience and of hope. Each of these poems engages the reader in the sensual landscape of Kochi, the smell of oranges and pomegranates as well as the poignant stories of those that lived in these places and those that return through memory and poetry. A poetry that moves your soul and enchants your hearth.</p><p class="ql-align-justify"><strong>-Marjorie Agosin</strong>, Wellesley College, author of <em>I Lived on Butterfly Hill</em></p><p class="ql-align-justify"><br></p><p class="ql-align-justify">A sensitive and well-crafted collection of forty poems, <em>The Jews of Kochi,</em> skillfully and thoughtfully blends two cultures into one with its unique juxtaposition of the two. The closeness and the shared bonds between the poet's community and the Kochi Jewish community in her hometown in India, become a timeless fabric of personal and universal history. The poet's knowledge of the Jewish community is evident in each poem.&nbsp;I can almost smell the aroma of spices as the Jewish immigrants make their way to the Zamorin's palace. Pramila feels at home in Bombay when, in Dear Papa, she says, 'I found a synagogue here. Although the service is in Marathi, it is the only place that feels like home.'&nbsp;This is a book that belongs on every shelf ... difficult to put down, and drawing you into reading all the poems in one sitting. A book to return to over and over.</p><p class="ql-align-justify"><strong>-Kavita Ezekiel Mendonca</strong>, author of <em>Family Sunday and Other Poems</em></p><p class="ql-align-justify"><br></p><p><br></p><p><br></p><p><br></p>