Joao-Roque Literary Journal est. 2017

By Heta Pandit

Why do we call it a book release, Rochelle? In fact, isn’t it just the reverse of release? Holding, reading, and experiencing a book is an inhalation, a holding in of your breath, a waiting for a revelation. That is exactly how I felt when I began reading Coins in Rivers. I wonder why the perpetrators of all the atrocities described against women are men. You write as a feminist; you see and understand scars. Even the ones under the skin. And yet, I see a soft gentle touch, not the caustic, harsh, and scarred perspective of a hard-core man-hater.

By Tino de Sa

Procession of One

Bleak, unlovely and unrepentant
for the many unspeakable sins of her arid past,
summer returns.

Without shame she uncovers the riverbed
with its harvest of pebbles,
too dry again for the melon seeds to root.

By Jessica Faleiro

During a routine consultation, the cardiac interventionist frowns at my father’s ECG reading. He’s immediately admitted into the ICU, where he’s restricted to seeing visitors for only thirty minutes, twice a day. The ICU security guard, Raj, allows me into the ward after visiting hours, when he realises that my father is in for a long haul. It occurs to me that he’s seen as many dead people wheeled out as live ones wheeled in.

By Salil Chaturvedi

Issue no 25

Sure enough
four petals a touch of orange in the stem
knee-high
That’s Farsetia.
This is the only place you will find it
On top of a hill, green in August
A short-lived trick
Then, a return to bare and rocky.

Review by Michelle M. Bambawale

I encountered Maria Aurora Couto through her two earlier works. In Goa: A Daughter's Story, I marvelled at the grandeur of the life she described in the palatial houses of Salcette, with their colonial connections through the Portuguese language, music, food, and lifestyle. Filomena’s Journeys: A Portrait of a Marriage, a Family, and a Culture, was heartbreaking.

Review by Selma Carvalho

We have to have an honest conversation about the role of the regional writer, that faithful chronicler of the immediacy of the life he encounters around him. He has no greater purpose other than to document this life—its history, nature, people, idiosyncrasies—captured by his indefatigable pen and preserved for posterity. Without the regional writer, literature cannot thrive, authenticity cannot thrive, geographical specificity cannot thrive.

By Augusto Pinto

Issue no 26

Raktachandan by Sanjiv Verenkar is the latest Konkani book to win the Sahitya Akademi award. It is the eighth collection of poetry of this veteran journalist and writer of books on contemporary Goan history. The title Raktachandan refers to the tree species pterocarpus santalinus (red sandalwood in English) that has many medicinal qualities. Among other uses, in the days before modern balms and ointments invaded our pharmacies it was used as a pain-killer for a variety of aches, wounds and swellings.