Eternal Pollution of a Dented Mind


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By Sanchita Islam

ISBN: 978-1-84747-353-0
Published: 2007
Pages: 171
Key Themes: poetry, autobiographical, mental confusion, emotions, imagination



“I am not a poet I just write. These pieces are a collection of my
musings and it is the first time that I am publishing my writing
without drawings, photos or paintings to accompany the words. This is
very scary since I see myself primarily as an artist but these pieces
are about the soul, life, s**t, rubbish, beauty, love, hate, mental
confusion, light and darkness. You might wonder if they are
autobiographical but I will remain mute regarding that detail since I
have a fervent imagination and what is truth anyway?

Something very dubious if you ask me.

Just read and see where the words take you.”

About the Author

Sanchita Islam is an artist, writer and filmmaker. She completed her
BSc (econ) and MSc (econ) at the London School of Economics before
embarking on a Channel 4 sponsored MA at the Northern Media School in
Directing and Screenwriting, and a BA in the Practice and Theory of
Visual Art at Chelsea School of Art and Design. Islam has exhibited
and screened her films in London, New York, Paris, Bangladesh,
Jakarta, Kuala Lumpur and Frankfurt. She has filmed in New York,
Kuala Lumpur, Jakarta, Nepal, Cambodia, Vietnam, Bangladesh, Cuba,
Barcelona and Miami for the production of her fifteen films to date.
Islam’s films and five books have been funded by the Arts Council,
BBC and British Council. These include ‘From Briarwood to Barishal to
Brick Lane,’ ‘Old Meets Young,’ ‘Hidden,’ ‘Connecting Kids’ and
‘Avenues’. Islam is currently artist in residence at Artscape and has been
running Pigment Explosion, an organisation specialising in
international art projects, for the last nine years. She has many publications with Chipmunka.

Book Extract

When I am despondent
This is what I think of
I think of a man that caught the corner of my sleepy eye
As I sat dull in a cab crawling through Dhaka city
I think of a man walking faster than a bullet,
With a mountain of bananas balanced on his head,
A mountain so high that it pierced the sky,
Every muscle in his body straining with the effort,
Desperate for a drink,
But not stopping for a moment,
Just going forward
Never looking back



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