9 Years of The Bangalore Review

The arrival of June coincides with the much-awaited monsoons in the subcontinent and relief from the scorching heat. Everywhere around us is renewed in green and its tenderness, the mangoes have ripened and the smell of rain on earth is the sweetest. As peacocks dance in the rain and the Jacaranda flowers, we at The Bangalore Review join in the celebration, as we complete nine dedicated years as a literary magazine.

Most anniversaries are time to reflect on not only the journey that has been, but also what lies ahead. In terms of our journey, we are often compelled to look back and retell the stories of what is inclusive and what is not. In that sense and more, at TBR we chose to become a recurrent dialogue where inclusivity is defined by both language and its purpose of uniting lovers of literature everywhere. In that sense, we have strived to continue publishing work that is fresh in outlook, irrespective of whether it comes from a newcomer or a seasoned writer. Anubha Yadav, an established writer now, first sent in her stories to The Bangalore Review, when she had just started off. In her note congratulating us she writes, “Bangalore Review showed confidence in my short stories much before others. Over the years it has evolved into an engaging and exciting place for readers.”

With our growing readership base in the US and Europe, we stuck to our policy of promoting both local and international writers, making it a platform that is truly international in outlook, as well as literature – Apurva Narain says, “The Bangalore Review feels and reads like a quality venue that is simultaneously Indian and international in its sensibilities.”

As a small team of editors dedicated to the cause of literature, we have promoted translation, supported small and indigenous publishing over corporate structures, published new names, and taken pride in literature that is brave and uncompromising in its attitude.

At this juncture as we sit back and reflect on the future of literature and its very capacity to show direction, we know for sure that in the times we live in, it is imperative to showcase literature that must call out mediocrity, speak up for what is right and not cower down to the pressure of conforming. Now more than ever, when there are more borders than necessary, when religious and mindless killings are the order of the day, when we have become creatures of discomfort, when war, ethnicity and diverse tongues push people apart, perhaps it is the time to ask ourselves what is the language we love in, think in, and would like to make home in?

Increasingly, literature becomes that home, that language that brings solace, where lines are blurred and we emerge as translated creatures, unified in the common pursuit of words that heal and bind us.

The June issue brings you a wonderful line up, The Sound of Running Water by Marc Olivere in short fiction, Timbuktu and An Afternoon at The Little Magazine Archive, Kolkata in our non-fiction section, some wonderfully translated poems by Prashanta Chakravarty of Monibhushan Bhattacharya (the fiercely talented, yet hardly talked about poet) and much more.

And with your support our readers and contributors, our biggest cheerleaders – we present the June issue wishing that you keep us in your hopes and hearts. Keep reading, dear reader – here’s to June.

Maitreyee B Chowdhury
Managing Editor, The Bangalore Review

Notes from Our Wellwishers

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