The book is a collection of Short letters/essays on Childhood, Nature and Arts. Each letter is fewer than 12 sentences long, and is separated by a section mark. The letters are grouped into the aforesaid chapters. They are truths from my personal experiences, some I have lived, while others I have imagined. They do not follow any particular order, like a book of poems, you can pick anyone and meditate or reflect on it. A slow, deliberate read with a reading of the introductions will prepare and set the theme—a sip at a time.
About the book
The short letters in this book are the narration of many things felt. All the letters curated here are an extension of all those things that were naturally felt. In today’s time and age, as the world divides itself, these letters attempt to unify it, portray the commonality in each of us, and provides any thoughtful reader, an elevation, an escape into a world of ideas—one of objectivity, of purity, and of individuality. This is Pandit’s first book, a selection of letters from the remains of his file, his inquiry, his study in the magnificence that lives in and around us, of those in plain sight—in the child, the nature, or the art. The short letters in this book endeavor to highlight the brilliance of these most basic forms.
It’s a quest, so it’s by no means finished.
**** FINALIST ERIC HOFFER AWARDS 2022
If each entry stands as an ode to art (or children or nature) as “a source of truth,” then in these brief, poetic compositions Pandit makes appropriately definitive statements: “In all the vanity and wickedness that this world has, we witness something pure and exceptional… one that is handed down to a woman by none other than nature herself… —motherhood.” However, subjects and phrasing recur to such a degree in these vignettes or codas—Pandit’s form is singular enough that no single established term captures these rich entries—that some readers will find them redundant, especially if they read straight through rather than occasionally dip into Pandit’s stream of thought.
Whether read in short or long doses, though, the writing is rhythmic, melodic, lyrical: “poetry mends the rift, while music bridges the gulf,” Pandit notes, drawing on both. Sometimes, Pandit addresses an audience directly—“I walk. I walk a lot… I walk so I can write; I write because I have something to say…”—and in doing so gains the investment of thoughtful, patient readers invested in style and ideas. Upon reaching the end, any lingering doubts of the literary ambition of this work will have retreated.
Takeaway: In distinct style, Impressions considers the small yet profound daily experiences many of us tend to dismiss.
Great for fans of: Cleo Wade’s Where To Begin, Alexandra Elle’s After the Rain.
Design and typography: A+
Marketing copy: A