The heaving breasts spoke through the eerie silence,
Like the rain-drop which wets the blood- clot ;
Of the fumbling wings in fire’s presence ,
In an isolated strangeness!!

The sleepy eyes search for that pillow,
Woven with memories of the clay mother,
The eye brows pluck thorns of love,
In the isolated strangeness, of a different feather !!

The silence creeps into my veins,
Of the dark sunflower horse , without her reins ;
The deserted ink stops to flow,
Leaving me with my isolated strangeness!!

The impasse where ‘I miss you’ laughs in whisper,
Longing for friends from across the oceans so far,
In the selfish desire to be with a family of three,
I greet my isolated strangeness!!




Let go of love and love to cure,
Of the soothing pain the heart can endure,
Ignoring the indifference !!

The petulant fire brings the dust ,
In the shore of sands in rust ,
The wind drifts from east to west !!

The impregnated bud moistens the tears,
Loosing the yellow untouched petal of the sunflower,
Let it go, fly across in the sea !!

Let go of the dream sown in the sweating blue,
Sweetness of the lyrics you once composed,
Let the love go for I have found a new way to love you !!


Under a different sky, with the hues of water,
Across the seven seas, a home called ‘ another’;
The strangeness is born !!

A wanderer, yet with a home,
Of the zero hotel bill, under the shade of the pine,
The stream started to flow, I don’t know when !!

‘Family’, the strangeness cries,
Of love in paper’s ties,
Of love that brought up a little girl ,
The strangeness asks, ‘ is this my home ? ‘

A pat on the hair, a peck on the cheek ,
A princess in an earthen gown,
Adorned in strangeness’s crown !!

The sail that drifted from east to west ,
The sun that kisses the sunflower state,
In the strangeness, grows a feeling caled ‘ home ‘. orange-animated-girl-butterfly


BLURB : The lives of all the members of Kratu’s family are at stake Reason : the cryptic stories of Kubha, Kratu’s grandmother, which hold keys to the origin of Indo- European civilization. As we embark upon this adventurous journey with Kratu, Afsar and Tits, we are greeted by riddles, threats and a whole new dimension of linguistic paleontology , which we could not even have thought of. Welcome to the world of The Ekkos Clan, where mystery unfolds at every paragraph.
MY RATING : 4.5 out of 5.
‘Another technocrat writing a novel’ : this is what that comes to our mind when we see Sudipto Das, an ex IIT-ian writing a novel. Hold your breath before you come to this conclusion : a whole new set of cognates and elaborate descriptions of music will make you scratch your head and wonder, ‘ Is this author an engineer? ‘. Well, technically, he is one. But author Sudipto Das is far beyond an IIT-ian: he is a researcher before he starts to pen down his thoughts ( see the long reference list at the end of the book ) ; he is a wonderful story teller and will not give you peace until you have listened to the whole story. That is what happened to me as I plummeted to read the book and finished it off in my long flight, while traveling from India to Wichita, Kansas, USA. When I decided to write the review, I had to re read again, fearing I may not do justice to the book and the author.
An M.Phil student of Comparative Literature , Jadavpur University , India, I have been trained to appreciate a novel, provided it has a good theme and a good narration. How can I not extol the book when the book reflects such a strong hold of English language , a very intricate narration and above all, a theme, which is quite uncommon to contemporary Indian fiction. We see thousands of best selling authors writing ‘ chick -lit ‘ which apparently talk about love among teen agers and young adults. The other ones are mythological fictions, which have been borne out of author’s love for history . Sudipto Das’s novel, The Ekkos Clan takes a different route, refilling the necessities of love, humour and wanderlust in new buds. What can be more appealing to an Indian English reader, or perhaps other readers to, than the charm of getting proposed by the Bengali words , ‘ ami tomake bhalobashi’ ? It is a nectar , every Bengali girl desires, an urge, which is even even stronger than 1st college sex; it is the ambrosia which any non-Bengali and non- Indian girl , like Afsar, dreams to sip from a Bengali boy. Perhaps , it is something I felt like saying to the book, ‘ ami tomake bhalobashi ‘. Yes, could not help it listing it as one of my favorites.
The adroit use of Bangal words , filling in the gaps of rootlessness renders versatility to the author. Sudipto Das makes the book interesting even for those, who have no knowledge of linguistics. He seems to me like that ‘ Masterchef’ who carefully chooses a wide variety of ingredients and creates a wonderful platter but makes it sure, that no single spice dominates and the food is not overcooked.
For those who want to buy the book, here is the link :
To know more about the author, visit the site :