They Were My Heroes by Mohul Bhowmick is a delightful collection of hundred poems that revs heart. These poems are subtle, sublime, aesthetic, and put a show of fervent passion in the poet’s voice. The collection is simply superb and rich with all the literary essence.
Hundred poems, divided into five sections, Mohul takes us through the full circle of life, ebbing on the tides of travel memories, tribute, friendship, love, and musings of life. The first section ‘Travel Capers’ takes us through the memory lane of places visited by the poet. He sheds light on the exquisite culture and customs of places like Nepal, South India, Chandigarh, Western Ghats, and so on. Mohul makes this section highly readable by his keen observation of places and people.
Next section, In Tribute – refers to people in his life. They are not just the by passers, they shaped him. He misses them, pays tribute to his coach Anil Mittal, and expresses gratitude to his family and others on the cricket field. In the book there are some poems that are pertaining to this sport, as the poet is a national level cricketer from Hyderabad.
‘Demons’ talks about personal anecdotes of life in a lyrical prose. The poet looked quite matured in this section, the way he handles life situations is not only inspiring but also highly intriguing and fascinating. Not January Yet – is a terrific poem on life’s resolutions that sucks when the time is over and we gloom about the results.
“The new year promises sunrises a shade of red
While to the years of yore you cling.
Does it really matter what they have said,
Or what they’ve been made to sing?
This year has not your expectations met;
Its gloomy but it’s not January yet.”
‘Romantic Leftovers’ brings the pain and glory of love that a person seeks aftermath his seclusion from his lover. He shares quite a handful of memories and obsessions left behind in the epoch of love. He enjoyed the love feelings in snatches but could not afford the pain and agony separation thrown at him.
“To wear the bracelet I had given to you on your eighteenth.
I read that you keep that room as a studio somewhere east
Is it to escape from your newly-found family life,
Or as a token of remembrance for lovers past? ”
The last section is bit abrupt yet a great piece of literature. Mohul is a promising poet, many of his poems have been published in the literary magazines. He seeks some solace, latent pain, and wonders of life through his pen. The book in one word is a ‘brilliant performance’.
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