Steamed delight
Sir — Yesterday’s Google doodle honoured the humble idli, and rightly so. It may be the most practical food ever invented. No grease, no mess, no complicated recipe — just fermented rice, steam, and common sense come together to make a delightful dish that works for breakfast, dinner, travel, and even awkward family visits. They suit children, grandparents, and anyone pretending to eat healthy. Every region debates which makes them best, but no one denies that they make life bearable. It is time idlis received the global respect they deserve, preferably before someone decides to reinvent them with quinoa.
A.G. Rajmohan,
Anantpur, Andhra Pradesh
Worth the effort
Sir — The Nobel Prize for Literature being awarded to László Krasznahorkai recognises an uncomfortable truth: great literature is not meant to soothe. His prose demands the reader’s full attention, even submission. At a time when brevity is mistaken for brilliance, such recognition restores dignity to the importance of encountering difficulty in literature. Krasznahorkai reminds us that endurance, both moral and intellectual, is the reader’s work. The reward is not ease but illumination — the kind that burns slowly and lasts long.
R.S. Narula,
Patiala
Sir — There is something subversive about a literature Nobel for a writer whose sentences refuse to end. László Krasznahorkai’s syntax resists the world’s obsession with instant clarity and marketable meaning. His recognition is a quiet victory for writers who believe in the sentence as a space of struggle, not decoration. This award should remind readers that beauty sometimes hides in confusion and that literature’s task is not to simplify chaos. It is for readers to stay with a piece of writing until the light of meaning dawns on them.
S.S. Paul,
Calcutta
Sir — László Krasznahorkai’s Nobel is a rebuke to a culture addicted to simplicity. His novels demand work. Literature was never meant to flatter its audience; it was meant to change them. Readers who surrender to his apocalyptic visions will find not despair but a strange, durable clarity. The award affirms that seriousness still matters, even when the world would rather scroll past it.
Kamal Laddha,
Bengaluru
Speak easy
Sir — The story of translation in India mirrors the story of India itself — diverse, inventive, and occasionally neglected (“Translation revitalised”, Oct 11). The revival of translation through platforms like Bhashavaad offers a remarkable opportunity to restore the bridges that connected Indian languages. Translation once thrived in Bengal’s presses and Santiniketan’s classrooms where literature travelled freely among tongues. That spirit must now inform national policy. Funding, training, and visibility for translators can ensure that linguistic diversity remains an asset, not an afterthought. The result will be a more confident, connected, and intellectually alive India.
Khokan Das,
Calcutta
Sir — Translation is often treated as art when it is, in fact, an act of nation-building. The movement of ideas among languages strengthens both democracy and imagination. Translators need institutional recognition similar to authors and editors. A national translation endowment and fair royalties could professionalise what has long been voluntary labour. India’s unity in diversity deserves a national translation project.
Ajay Tyagi,
Mumbai
Sir — The imbalance between fiction and non-fiction translations is glaring. The latter remains locked within regional languages, accessible only to a few.
Annesha Ghosh,
Calcutta
