THE SOUND OF RAIN
The way it makes everything
inside seem dry
and yet vulnerable.
Lovers love the rain.
But to the lonely it hurts,
like withheld tears.
Strange, the present
and cyclical passage
of time: this rain now.
It dies. For an instant
aware you say, “It’s stopped.”
Cautiously, as if a hazard.
Listening to the rain
in pajamas,
eyeballs tired from reading,
Outlasts the sleeper
who wakes, wonders,
“Has it rained?”
SYLLABLES
She only sings four syllables
but that doesn’t irritate me. Because
I say the same words
over and over: “We’re together.”
CIRCLE OF CLOUDS
Clouds are circling fast
come in from the coast
and the blue makes
the cold less cold
but you went away
in the middle of the night
rolled away on a bus
all day inland
you’ve been gone longer than you said
a man without sleep
is like a man dead
I see everything gray
though the clouds have been pushed
by some invisible oar
I won’t feel it
till you come through that door
David Francis has produced seven music albums, Always/Far: a chapbook of lyrics and drawings, and Poems from Argentina (Kelsay Books). He has written and directed the films, Village Folksinger (2013) and Memory Journey (2018). He lives in New York City.
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PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL
In Conversation withRinki Roy(daughter of legendary director Bimal Roy) about The Oldest Love Story, an anthology on motherhood, edited and curated byjournalist and authors, Rinki Roy and Maithili Rao. Click here to read.
Achingliu Kamei in conversation with Veio Pou, author of Waiting for the Dust to Settle, a novel based on the ongoing conflicts in North-east India. Clickhereto read.
Translations
The Funeral, a satirical skit by Tagore, translated by Somdatta Mandal. Click here to read.
Pie in the Sky is a poem written and translated from Korean by Ihlwha Choi. Click here to read.
Taal Gaachh or The Palmyra Tree, a lilting light poem by Tagore, has been translated from Bengali by Mitali Chakravarty. Click here to read.
Pandies’ Corner
This narrative is written by a youngster from the Nithari village who transcended childhood trauma and deprivation. Dhaani has been written in Hindi and translated to English by Kiran Mishra. Click here to read.
Keith Lyons discovers the import and export of desires in Varanasi, one of the oldest cities in the world, beside one of the most revered rivers. Click here to read.
Notes from Japan
In Marathon Blues, Suzanne Kamata talks of pandemic outcomes in Japan in a lighter tone. Click here to read.
Musings of a Copywriter
In Journey of an Ant, Devraj Singh Kalsi explores life from an insect’s perspective. Click here to read.
Mission Earth
In Tuning in to Nature, Kenny Peavy tells us how to interact with nature. Click here to read.
THE CROP-DUSTER, ALABAMA
It’s evening; the windows are tinted:
I’ve seldom seen such landscape from a bus,
enchanting shades of green, without a gloss;
so leafy, “leafy” is what I’ve printed
in my letter—that was the adjective
with which I conveyed this peculiar state’s
fullness, a cornucopia of traits
flowing through this leafiness like a sieve.
Two radios play, one of them is heard;
not bothering with headphones in front
of me, a man as if to anoint
has his head down, like a sea-alighting bird.
In back, the reflections merged in the glass,
both of us watching the crop-duster pass.
EXPEDITION
Walking in fisherman’s boots
all the way to the fence,
deer hindquarters flash and thrash
through the thorns, and gluey spider webs
break against my innocent face;
crows maul the sky with their cries
and then, silent as pine needles snapping underfoot,
the give-way of a rotten trunk next to
those towers of those who live in the mud
and my own subsidence, rubbery, sodden;
scraping off on a root, nailed boards
reveal a blue canopied treehouse—
not the first in my sunny youth;
at the fence I rest in the sundown,
enervated in the cacophony of gloom
and transfixed by the motes floating
in the high-vaulted clearing.
David Francis has produced seven music albums, Always/Far: a chapbook of lyrics and drawings, and Poems from Argentina (Kelsay Books). He has written and directed the films, Village Folksinger (2013) and Memory Journey (2018). He lives in New York City.
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PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL
Ananto Prem(Endless Love) by Tagore, translated from Bengali by Professor Fakrul Alam. Click here to read.
Playlets byRabindranath Tagorereveal the lighter side of the poet. They have been translated from Bengali by Somdatta Mandal. Click here to read.
The Faithful Wife, a folktale translated from Balochi by Fazal Baloch. Click hereto read.
Leafless Trees, poetry and translation from Korean by Ihlwha Choi. Click here to read.
Ebar Phirao More(Take me Back) by Tagore, translated from Bengali by Mitali Chakravarty. Click here to read.
Pandies’ Corner
These narratives are written by youngsters from the Nithari village who transcended childhood trauma and deprivation. Will to be Human is based on a real life story by Sachin Sharma, translated from Hindustani by Diksha Lamba. Click here to read.
InStudies in Blue and White, PennyWilkes gives us a feast of bird and ocean photography along with poetry. Clickhere to read and savour the photographs.
G. Venkatesh looks at the ability to find silver linings in dark clouds through the medium of his experiences as a cricketeer and more. Click here to write.
What can be more scary and life-threatening than the risk of getting Covid-19? Keith Lyons finds how his daily joy has menacing dangers. Click hereto read.
Musings of the Copywriter
In When Books have Wings, Devraj Singh Kalsi talks of books that disappear from one book shelf to reappear in someone’s else’s shelf. Click here to read.
Notes from Japan
InOwls in Ginza, Suzanne Kamata takes us to visit an Owl Cafe. Clickhere to read.
Mission Earth
In No Adults Allowed!, Kenny Peavy gives a light hearted rendition in praise boredom and interaction with nature. Click hereto read.
P Ravi Shankar takes us on a trek to the Himalayas in Nepal and a viewing of Annapurna peak with a narrative dipped in history and photographs of his lived experience. Click here to read.
The Observant Immigrant
In A Bouquet of Retorts, Candice Louisa Daquin discusses the impact of changes in linguistic expressions. Click here to read.
Book Excerpts
An excerpt from a fast-paced novel set in Mumbai, Half-Blood by Pronoti Datta. Click here to read.
Sriniketan: Tagore’s “Life Work”: In Conversation with Professor Uma Das Gupta, Tagore scholar, author of A History of Sriniketan, where can be glimpsed what Tagore considered his ‘life’s work’ as an NGO smoothening divides between villagers and the educated. Click here to read.
Akbar: The Man who was King: In conversation with eminent journalist and author, Shazi Zaman, author of Akbar, A Novel of History. Click here to read.
Translations
One Day in the Fog, written by Jibananda Das and translated from Bengali by Professor Fakrul Alam. Click here to read.
Mahnu, a poem by Atta Shad, translated from Balochi by Fazal Baloch. Click hereto read.
Eyes of the Python, a short story by S.Ramakrishnan, translated from Tamil by Dr.B.Chandramouli. Click here to read.
Raatri Eshe Jethay Meshe by Tagore has been translated from Bengali as Where the Night comes to Mingleby Mitali Chakravarty. Click hereto read.
Pandies’ Corner
These stories are written by youngsters from the Nithari village who transcended childhood trauma and deprivation. The column starts with a story, Stranger than Fiction from Sharad Kumar in Hindustani, translated to English by Grace M Sukanya. Click here to read.
Ratnottama Sengupta sings her own paean in which a chorus of voices across the world join her to pay a tribute to a legend called LataMangeshkar. Click here to read.
P Ravi Shankar takes us through a breakfast feast around the world. Click here to read.
Musings of a Copywriter
In Life without a Pet, Devraj Singh Kalsi gives a humorous take on why he does not keep a pet. Clickhere to read.
Notes from Japan
In Bridging Cultures through Music, author Suzanne Kamata introduces us to Masaki Nakagawa, a YouTuber who loves Lativia and has made it big, playing for the President of Lativia at the Japanese coronation. Click here to read.
A tribute by Keith Lyons to the first New Zealand Booker Prize winner, Keri Hulme, recalling his non-literary encounters with the sequestered author. Click here to read.
Ratnottama Sengupta writes of a time a palace called Bardhaman House became the centre of a unique tryst against cultural hegemony. The Language Movement of 1952 that started in Dhaka led to the birth of Bangladesh in 1971. In 1999, UNESCO recognised February 21 as the Mother Language Day. Click here to read.
The Observant Immigrant
In To Be or Not to Be, Candice Louisa Daquin takes a close look at death and suicide. Click here to read.
VAGARIES
I have seen houses
that went dark early
and you heard your footfall on the tile
but I did not know I would come to live in one.
Have you seen houses
where the shadows of evening
started after noon
but did you know you would come to live in one?
EMPATHY FOR HUMANITY
I walk down the lonely street.
A breeze is blowing—
which is welcome in this heat.
I know where I’m going.
A man and a woman
are standing on the sidewalk,
staring at someone
at the end of the block.
In the trees that intersect
at the entrance
a worker and I connect
from a distance;
off the repair truck he climbs down
and his red face nods,
he knows I’m down,
he knows the odds.
I head toward the boulevard.
A whiff of garbage bin
hits me in the nose hard
and it’s good…it’s all good again.
IGNORANT MAN
Listening to the music
he wouldn’t know how to put the violins together
how to harmonise their parts
He knows the place
the ensemble came from
but how did they arise from there?
Into it, its refinement
mystifies: he half-gets it
but decides he doesn’t like it
He looks so sad
as only a human can
as only a settled nomad…
OBSERVATIONS (FROM A NOCTURNAL PATIO)
The ivy twists upon
itself on the wrought-iron fence—
summer night.
Where’s the light come from
shining on the tabletop
amidst these shadows?
The tattoo parlor
is open—the church next door
is closed, I presume.
A very slight breeze
wavers the sunflower
drooping from its own weight.
The toppling buses
are gone—one with a single
passenger shies home.
The shadow of one
on the brick floor—alone at
a table for four.
A shaky table
but it doesn’t bother me
in this mood somehow.
Lighted from within
those windows must have a curious
life only glimpsed.
Living the moment
is a cliché except when
it’s not a cliché.
Takes one to know one—
I judge harshly and smugly
overheard rubbish.
Shallowness survives
the shadowy depths of the
most romantic night.
The kinds of laughter—
like crocodile tears—hyenas
also devour.
A shadow-flecked face
rattles on from its mouth like
a worm-eaten hole.
Given half a chance
some people will talk like a
stuck horn or siren.
The lone bicyclist
runs the red light to stay ahead
of the traffic.
Exquisite voices
are rare but a desired voice
has tones on reserve.
Coveting gardens
can make one under-appreciate
the dogwood.
Hoarse from over-talk—
some persons talk as if they’re
always in a bar.
Houses that are close
to an all-night establishment
always seem sad.
David Francis has produced seven music albums, Always/Far: a chapbook of lyrics and drawings, and Poems from Argentina (Kelsay Books). He has written and directed the films, Village Folksinger (2013) and Memory Journey (2018). He lives in New York City.
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PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL
Borderless 