"Everything in my life changed because of money, like the affection of my parents, love from other family members, studies, some dreams of my life, my singing of songs—everything has been lost just for the lack of money."
I finished this slim collection in a day. The poems by Mukul are heart-rending, especially the ones where expresses how much he misses his mother, and when he longs for home. Singaporeans often say that migrant workers are better off in Singapore than in their home country, but in Mukul's poems, home is where his belly is full, where he receives love, and where his surroundings are blissful. His descriptions of his situation here, on the other hand, are full of despair—"Expatriate means dream-drenched agony." / "Why are workers and labourers dying? / Why is there no justice?" / "Walking in the streets without boundaries / How I lost myself I don't know / I possess no address"
His love poems were really beautiful and sounded quite different from the others. Some lines that I found beautiful were in the poem "Lunar Face", especially "In your deep black hair / clouds lose their way". In fact, there were some lines that would carry this level of profundity throughout the book which makes me wonder how much is retained or lost in translation and transcreation (the poems were "transcreated" by Cyril Wong).
Cyril wong had written in the introduction that "To his credit, Mukul had striven to leave out [the] more predictable banalities and focused on poeticising emotions or projecting them into the realm of the mythic and imagined universal." This gave me pause because I wonder why expressing the material challenges of a migrant worker was less desired than universal themes. But at the same time, I can also understand that the poetry of a migrant worker should not also be reduced to their suffering & that they are seen as capable of expressing profound universal truths too. In fact, I think both of this can co-exist.
Another thing was that Cyril Wong transcreated the title "Me Migrant" according to how he heard Mukul speak the first time they met, & this stiltedness was also present throughout the language of the poems, I don't know if this was intended, but I wonder how different it would be if we read his poems with a smoother language, as per normal speech if he were to read it in the original Bengali. Btw, before this, he had published a novel and a poetry collection in Bangladesh!