My Glass Of Wine - a landmark genre; critical analysis by Ranadeb Dasgupta

It was the cold junction of the 5^th and 6^th January, 2014 when I ended my wonderful sips of My Glass Of Wine, a poetical novelette by Kiriti Sengupta. It was absolutely intoxicating which caught my nerves with such a smooth pleasure that the winter night chill got transformed to an embracing warmth. Such piercing but affectionate his renditions are that I am still feeling a turn-turtle phase psychologically. Starting with a great introductory gateway (Foreword) by Don Matin I entered the speaking soul of Kiriti. The segments of his book are apparently linkless, but undoubtedly, this style puts a challenge before the readers - a challenge to find out the missing links. And there is the success of this creation. The reader is bound to read and search himself simultaneously while sailing through the stream of Kiriti's uttering. After his unbelievably skilled narration of each section, Kiriti has placed a poetic-gem that silently metamorphosed the whole move into a rhythmic sky. As he starts his go with his honest confession of his first interaction with Bengali literature, he grabs the hands of his readers so softly that one would have no other option but to walk with the author. The words of Kiriti bounce soundlessly, dance wavy and grips unbeatably. The intrinsic musical flow of his every sentence kept me mesmerized. And my my, what a pleasant view and analysis of poetry and its unavoidable associations! More I read, more I was enchanted with his thoughts. I was thinking with ultimate surprise if I have ever gone through such a literary experience which is firm but not dogmatic, spiritual but not religious and last but not the least, appealing but not demanding. This should be a landmark genre in the literary world, unmistakably different. My blissful wishes for this young and talented guy, going ahead with this glow of a lamp which he only can lit up. Heartiest congratulations to Kiriti and to all concerned.