Amitava Kumar (@amitava) — Bluesky Profile

7 months ago

NYPL Researcher Spotlight: Amitava Kumar | The New York Public Library Kumar is the author of several works of nonfiction and four novels. 

A thank you to librarians.

www.nypl.org/blog/2025/08...

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8 months ago

Amitava Kumar on Books That Shaped Him—And Why Reading Should Hurt a Little Eminent Indian writer Amitava Kumar opens up about the books that raised him, the ones he gives away, and the ones that still haunt him.

“Reading is good when it disturbs you.” frontline.thehindu.com/columns/amit...

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9 months ago

‘To be an artist or a writer, you have to be in the business of serious noticing’: Amitava Kumar ‘Everyone can write or paint every day. It is not necessary to be brilliant at it; instead, it can be a small, nourishing practice that enriches our lives.’

scroll.in/article/1082...

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9 months ago

From @brickliterary.bsky.social
brickmag.com/postcards-fr...
#WorldEnvironmentDay

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9 months ago

On #worldenvironmentday, I’m sharing my @GrantaMag piece on the sinking Himalayan town granta.com/sinking-town/

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9 months ago

"How's Richard? How's Tonto? How's John? How's Chrissy? How's Judy? How's Mickey?" My daughter is graduating from college

amitavakumar.substack.com/p/hows-richa...

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9 months ago

Lynn Freed (1945-2025) "What is truth if not the life at the very heart of failure?"

amitavakumar.substack.com/p/lynn-freed...

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10 months ago

Ask the Soldier Who is Leaving (Or, जाने वाले सिपाही से पूछो )

amitavakumar.substack.com/p/ask-the-so...

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10 months ago

"Terrorist" Two short-short stories

amitavakumar.substack.com/p/terrorist

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10 months ago

Why Am I Still Teaching Journalism? A brief report on PEN World Voices Festival

Why am I still teaching journalism? amitavakumar.substack.com/p/why-am-i-s...

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10 months ago

Three Acts In which I tell you about my upcoming readings

Three upcoming readings
amitavakumar.substack.com/p/three-acts

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11 months ago

The Jewel on the Left Side of Your Chest #FreeGulfisha

#FreeGulfisha
amitavakumar.substack.com/p/the-jewel-...

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11 months ago

Therapy Is Not a Cure for Climate Disaster - Electric Literature “Therapist” from ATAVISTS by Lydia Millet, recommended by Amitava Kumar

A new Lydia Millet story about a therapist questioning her line of work in an era of climate disaster, recommended by @amitava.bsky.social

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11 months ago

India is the Vishwa Guru of Lying My interview in Frontline

amitavakumar.substack.com/p/india-is-t...

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11 months ago

The Wild Garden of Space A report on what I read during my Spring break

amitavakumar.substack.com/p/the-wild-g...

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11 months ago

[Carel Willink, Bad Tidings, 1932 Stedelijk Museum Amsterdam] Tempera on linen. A man in suit and hat in right foreground, walking away; a woman in white blouse and brown skirt, running up the street to reach him. Stately pink mansion and tree-lined street form the picture, ominous dark clouds overhead.

I lived in the first century of world wars.
Most mornings I would be more or less insane,
The newspapers would arrive with their careless stories,
The news would pour out of various devices
Interrupted by attempts to sell products to the unseen.
I would call my friends on other devices;
They would be more or less mad for similar reasons.
Slowly I would get to pen and paper,
Make my poems for others unseen and unborn.
In the day I would be reminded of those men and women,
Brave, setting up signals across vast distances,
Considering a nameless way of living, of almost unimagined values.
As the lights darkened, as the lights of night brightened,
We would try to imagine them, try to find each other,
To construct peace, to make love, to reconcile
Waking with sleeping, ourselves with each other,
Ourselves with ourselves. We would try by any means
To reach the limits of ourselves, to reach beyond ourselves,
To let go the means, to wake.
I lived in the first century of these wars.

-Muriel Rukeyser, “I lived in the first century of world wars”

I lived in the first century of world wars.
Most mornings I would be more or less insane
The newspapers would arrive with their careless stories
–
Slowly I would get to pen and paper,
Make my poems for others unseen and unborn.

-Muriel Rukeyser
#everynightapoem

[Carel Willink, Bad Tidings, 1932]