“Dey” is Tamil slang. A polysemic portal into community. It is “hey”, “no”, “yes”; it
hails, it invites, it warns, it cajoles, it pleads, it loves. Just like Shivram Gopinath’s Dey: a cross-genre, multi-tongued celebration of diasporic desire, complaint and joy that stretches what poetry can be. Part translation, part illustration, part verse, Dey is a love child of Tamil cinema tropes and themes, Singaporean hopes and dreams. A discordant soundtrack to migrant identity, an invitation to a language game, a retort to power. Rajinikanth, Lee Kuan Yew, durian fish soup fight for your eyeballs. A thick syrupy mix, that’s what. Dey, read it.
