Nina Miller
We look into the Mississippi
And see the reflections of the Ganges.— “Us Cajun South Brown Folk”
We, the children of immigrants, know two worlds. We carry one culture on our skin and a myriad in our upbringing. We are both at home and abroad in the very countries that we proclaim as part of who we are. It’s this delicious dichotomy of two worlds, of “fried green tomatoes—a gumbo”, of “luchi and aloo”, and of “orange peels and mango skins” that makes Cajun South Brown Folk such a marvelous read for those who live within this cultural jambalaya and those who want a taste. And whoa, is it delicious!
Khichuri: let’s make it Cajun—
Add red cayenne beans and rice— “Bayou Bengali Recipe”
You cannot think of anything more culturally bonding than the traditions surrounding food. As someone raised to eat with their hands and to know proper table settings when dining at Tavern on the Green, it is always a delight to know that some American customs, like eating crawfish and corn on the cob, are still hands-on. Meals eaten in this way become a shared experience. In Dasgupta’s poems, he shows how food helps blend the experience of being Bengali in Louisiana as he travels back and forth between moments in Kolkata and in Acadiana. From “Mel’s Diner” to “Bayou Bengali Recipe,” we see all that is different but also the same. Flavors and tastes merge throughout this collection much in the same way his mother adapts to cooking with the find of a recipe book for Cajun cuisine marked with notes for a curry. His hands contain both crawfish and bhelpuri fingers. Eating with family or with friends is a joyous opportunity to share what we enjoy with the people we love. Dasgupta’s words are a feast; come hungry.
What if he stayed?
I would be more Indian Indian— “Seasons of the Mind”
This concept, more than anything, jumped out at me. A thought I have often wondered as I sit tongue-tied around my relatives, trying to speak my parents’ language with my New York accent. Who would I be if I were raised the way my parents had been?
With every piece in this collection, we are better for experiencing Dasgupta’s exposure to two cultures. In this masala of memories, we are able to see through his eyes, “a Cajun espresso sunrise” or “a rabbit under the sun—a mirage for a crumpled Popeyes bag.” He paints us a picture that brings the smells of his mother’s saris to the banks of a new river with new sights and sounds, as resplendent a mixture as any one cultural experience alone could muster.
From “Kolkata Crawfish Claws” to “Abecedarian for the Sacred Roux,” you’ll experience the wonderful and musical nature of his poetry that allows us to simultaneously be in two worlds at once. Never once feeling out of place or foreign in the warmth of his words. It’s poetry that makes you feel alive, like you’re attending your first Mardi Gras.
There is one last gift this Indian–American has discovered through reading Cajun South Brown Folk. I am the Indian I was always meant to be.
If India is a place of diverse culture, religions, economic disparities, cuisines and experiences, then adding Louisiana to the extended map makes Dasgupta’s journey as “Indian Indian” as anyone has a right to exclaim. In his poetry, I didn’t experience the story of a child of immigrants teetering on a balance beam between two worlds as much as I read a forging of an identity. Dasgupta invites us into his world, introduces us to the food, the scents, the language, the music, and generously lets us linger long past the crickets have gone to sleep.
Cajun South Brown Folk is a collection of poetry, seeped in Bengali and Cajun culture, deliciously blended and ready to serve.
Cajun South Brown Folk (Belle Point Press, 2025) can be purchased here.
Nina Miller is an Indian-American physician, epee fencer, and creative. She loves writing competitions and nursing endless cups of chai. Find her work in the Wigleaf Top 50, Sci-Fi Shorts, Micromance Magazine, Raw Lit, Trash Cat Lit and Black Hare Press. She is a contributor for The Pride Roars. Find her @NinaMD1 or ninamiller.bsky.social. Read more at ninamillerwrites.com or https://substack.com/@ninamiller
