#Review: The Blue Potter by Ajeet Cour

Ajeet Cour’s The Blue Potter is like opening a timeworn album filled with vivid, unfiltered memories of Punjab’s finest creative souls — each portrait lovingly brushed with candour, wit, and a rare emotional intelligence. It’s not just a book of profiles; it’s a heartfelt homage from one artist to others who shared her world of words, music, and meaning.

Cour’s prose carries a quiet dignity — warm yet unsentimental. She doesn’t glorify her subjects; she humanizes them. Through her eyes, Amrita Pritam isn’t merely a literary icon but a woman of contradictions and courage. Khushwant Singh’s intellect is paired with simplicity; Jagjit Singh’s mellifluous ghazals are seen through the lens of both genius and gentleness. Each sketch feels like a conversation overheard — intimate, textured, and brimming with authenticity.

Where The Blue Potter truly shines is in its emotional undercurrent. Cour’s affection for her contemporaries glows through every page, giving readers not just insight into the figures she writes about but also a sense of her own place in that rich cultural tapestry. Her storytelling is fluid and deeply personal, often revealing as much about her as it does about the subjects she writes on.

If there’s a minor flaw, it’s that the tone occasionally drifts into nostalgia so dense that it risks alienating readers unfamiliar with the era or the personalities discussed. A touch more context or structure could have made some sketches more accessible to younger readers or those outside the Punjabi literary orbit.

Still, these are minor quibbles in what is otherwise a luminous and deeply affectionate work. The Blue Potter doesn’t just chronicle the creative geniuses of Punjab — it preserves their essence, their eccentricities, and their humanity in prose as soulful as the music and poetry they once made.

Find this book here.