Amit Chaudhuri is an internationally recognized Indian English author and academic. He is currently Professor of Contemporary Literature at the University of East Anglia.
Amit Chaudhuri grew up in Bombay. He has written numerous novels, short stories, poems and critical essays in English. He attended University College London, Balliol College, Oxford and has also been Creative Arts Fellow at Wolfson College. He was Leverhulme Fellow at Cambridge University, a Visiting Professor at Columbia University, and Samuel Fischer Guest Professor of Literature at Freie Universität Berlin.
His novels have won several major awards and he has received international ... more »
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Amit Chaudhuri Poems
Going for A Drive
The watchman waves. The garage door stutters open. It’s dark inside, dark. Grope for a switch. ‘Where are you going?’ We’re going somewhere not dark, somewhere clear and sunlit,
'Apples Still Come From Kashmir'
Apples still come from Kashmir pale pink in crates in winter’s market.
In my cousin's mansion in California my uncle and aunt, tourists saw it separately.
There has been writing for ten days now unabated. People are anxious, fed up. There is writing in Paris, in disaffected suburbs, but also in small towns, and old ones like Lyon.
Comments about Amit Chaudhuri
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
Going for A Drive
The watchman waves. The garage door
stutters open. It’s dark inside, dark. Grope for a switch.
‘Where are you going?’ We’re going somewhere not dark,
somewhere clear and sunlit,
where the frank wind touches our faces. The watchman
brushes open the gate by habit.
Leaves—wrinkled, yellow tongues—pastiche
the driveway by habit. When you turn the key, the car
throbs, and there’s a sharp, bitter aura of petrol.
Then light a cigarette. A point glows
like an ache for the past. When was I last with you in this car,
in this closed space?
Outside, wind and dust ...