Tag: Korean

Categories
The Lost Mantras

Four More Poems by Isa Kamari

Poetry and translations from Malay by Isa Kamari

Inscense burner
Kris
From Public Domain 
INCENSE BURNER

O, incense from rock and root! 
In the name of God and salutations to the Prophet, 
I sprinkle you onto the charcoal ember 
in the incense burner inherited from Elders.
Ssseesshh! Ssseesshh! Ssseesshh!
Billow across the span of humanity. 
Sharpen our senses, elevate our spirits, 
as an adornment of prayers for peace, 
as an accompaniment of the dead. 
Send blessings to the world of jinns and humans. 
The doors of servitude open, 
the purpose both are created.
You are the balm for tormented souls. 
You welcome the mind into the realm of remembrance. 
Focus the soul on complete devotion 
to the One, the only One.
Those with vague knowledge
only see smoke of superstition, 
stupefied as rose water is sprinkled.

Ssseesshh! Ssseesshh! Ssseesshh!

O, this servitude is indeed fragrant! 
O, this worship is indeed mystical and intimate 
to the One, the Only One.
When the kris blade is smouldered by smoke, 
after washed with lime juice, 
in the name of God and salutations to the Prophet, 
the blade is dried and withstands rust, 
preserving inheritance and the calling.
Culture and religion are intertwined, 
knowledge and understanding of the sacred realm 
that bless the worlds of jinns and humans. 
The doors of servitude open, 
creatures of the One, 
servants of the only One.
O, this servitude is indeed fragrant! 
O, this worship is indeed mystical and intimate!
Ssseesshh! Ssseesshh! Ssseesshh!
Allah! Allah! Allah! My Lord!

DEBT

Hey, bestower of pleasure! 
Hey, the saving hand!
I think I have been to hell: 
My soul is charred by sins, 
My mind is bombarded by doubt. 
I have rebelled against Me 
for fulfilling my desire.
I think I have been to heaven: 
My soul is at peace with gratitude. 
My mind is still in acceptance. 
Everything has its place. 
Everything is measured. 
I am accepted by Me, 
mutual and pure.
But return my will, 
return my future, 
return my entire me to the world and reality, 
from mere illusion, from every expectation.
I want to live. 
I want to live. 
I want to live in a bit of doubt, 
in a pinch of rebellion, 
to learn by myself, 
to be in place and measured.
Hey, bestower of pleasure! 
Hey, the saving hand! 
Let me pay my debt in feelings unsatiated.

THE MOUNTAIN
God, smash the mountain 
in my soul. 
Obliterate the entire me 
with your Grace and Love.
I could no longer bear 
the sufferings of alienation.

FIRASAT
(Spiritual Intuition)

People nowadays do not know firasat. 
People nowadays do not use firasat.
Purity brought down from Elders— 
the first intuition without veil, 
the stirrings and effects of unity of experience: 
Nature, knowledge, and actions unified, 
moved by the eye of the soul, 
nurtured by the discipline of the mind, 
based on strings of reiterative knowledge, 
demonstrated by signs from layers of Nature, 
validated by proofs in actions and breaths.
The mind, soul, and spirit 
moulded in the self and surroundings. 
Ever since it is compartmentalised by thoughts 
that distinguish object from subject, 
dissecting issues to the atom, 
limiting conclusions and acceptance, 
denying possibilities and visions, 
veiling light by separation of knowledge.
Is not this world a mirror? 
Is not this universe a sign? 
Is not this life a labyrinth? 
Is not a problem interlinked?
Science, philosophy, psychology, history, and religion 
are only points of view 
that need to be reunified, 
that need to be rejuvenated as a whole 
with stirrings and effects of firasat 
that will pierce layers of existence, 
that will open secret doors of 
the manifest, symbolic, transcendent, and immanent worlds.
Are not all that fall from the sky, 
grow on the surface of the earth, 
and return to the sky a belief in the unity of everything?
So, the dust that floats in the air 
remembers the moment of attesting of the spirit 
that is gently blown at the boundaries of seven worlds.
"Am I not your Lord?" 
The Malay testifies in firasat: 
"Yes, we affirm!"

Isa Kamari has written 12 novels, 3 collections of poetry, a collection of short stories, a book of essays on Singapore Malay poetry, a collection of theatre scripts and lyrics of 3 music albums, all in Malay. His novels have been translated into English, Turkish, Urdu, Arabic, Indonesian, Jawi, Russian, French, Spanish, Korean, Azerbaijan and Mandarin. Several of his essays and selected poems have been translated into English. Isa was conferred the S.E.A Write Award from Thailand (2006), the Singapore Cultural Medallion (2007), the Anugerah Tun Seri Lanang (2009) from the Singapore Malay Language Council, and the Mastera Literary Award (2018) from Brunei Darussalam.

He obtained a BArch (Hons) from the National University of Singapore in 1989, an MPhil (Malay Letters) from Universiti Kebangsaan Malaysia in 2008 and is currently pursuing a PhD programme at the Academy of Islamic Studies, Univeristi Malaya. His area of research is on the problem of alienation and the practice of firasat (spiritual intuition) in selected Singapore Malay novels.

The Lost Mantras is a collection that blends spirituality, Malay cultural heritage, and universal human experience. First published as part of Menyap Cinta (Love Greetings, 2022, Nuha Books KL), these poems are like a bridge between mysticism and everyday life, where traditional images (betel, jasmine, kris[1], oil lamps, setanjak[2]) are woven with Qur’anic echoes, prayers, and existential questioning. The collection carries a Sufi resonance—always circling back to longing, humility, surrender, and beauty as signs of God. The poems are not only lyrical but also function as cultural memory: they preserve Malay traditions, communal practices, and village life, while situating them in a cosmic framework of faith, sin, and redemption. The use of Malay customs, rituals, and objects is powerful: it asserts that spirituality is not abstract but embedded in heritage. This makes the collection uniquely Southeast Asian despite its universal in appeal.

[1]A dagger

[2] Malay headgear

PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles

Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Kindle Amazon International

Categories
celebrations

Six Years of Borderless Journal…

Art by Sohana Manzoor

Six years ago, a few of us got together to bring out the first issue of Borderless Journal. We started as a daily blog and then congealed into a monthly journal offering content that transcends artificial borders to meet with the commonality of felt emotions, celebrating humanity and the Universe. Today as we complete six years of our existence in the clouds, we would like to celebrate with all writers and readers who made our existence a reality. We invite you to savour writings collected over the years that reflect and revel in transcending borders, touching hearts and some even make us laugh while exploring norms. 

In this special issue. we can only offer a small sample of writings but you can access many more like these ones at our site…Without further ado, let us harmonise with words. We invite you to lose yourselves in a borderless world in these trying times.

Poetry

Click on the names to read

Jared Carter, Snehaprava Das,  Manahil Tahir, Ryan Quinn Flanagan,  Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal, Saptarshi Bhattacharya, John Swain, Ron Pickett, Saba Zahoor, Momina Raza, Annette Gagliardi, Jenny Middleton, Afsar Mohammad, Rhys Hughes, George Freek, Mitra Samal, Lizzie Packer, Shamik Banerjee, Maithreyi Karnoor,  Hela Tekali, Rakhi Dalal, Prithvijeet Sinha, Asad Latif, Stuart MacFarlane

Isa Kamari translates his poems from Malay in The Lost Mantras. Click here to read.

Two of her own Persian poems have been written and translated by Akram Yazdani. Click here to read.

A Poet in Exile by Dmitry Blizniuk has been translated from Ukranian by Sergey Gerasimov. Click here to read.

Refugee in my Own Country/ I am Ukraine… Poetry by Lesya Bakun of Ukraine. Click here to read. 

Sukanta Bhattacharya’s poem, Therefore, has been translated from Bengali by Kiriti Sengupta. Click here to read.

Amalkanti by Nirendranath Chakraborty has been translated from Bengali by Debali Mookerjea-Leonard. Click here to read

Ye Shao-weng’s poetry ( 1100-1150) has been translated from Mandarin by Rex Tan. Click here to read.

Rebel or ‘Bidrohi’, Nazrul’s signature poem, ‘Bidrohi‘, translated by Professor Fakrul Alam. Click here to read.

Manish Ghatak’s Aagun taader Praan (Fire is their Life) has been translated from Bengali by Indrayudh Sinha. Click here to read.

Tagore’s poem, Tomar Shonkho Dhulay Porey (your conch lies in the dust), has been translated from Bengali by Mitali Chakravarty as ‘The Conch Calls’. Click here to read.

Waiting for Godot by Akbar Barakzai; Akbar Barakzai’s poem has been translated by Fazal Baloch. Click here to read.

Ihlwha Choi spent some time in Santiniketan and here are poems he wrote in reaction to his observations near the ‘home of R.Tagore’, as he names Santiniketan and the Kobiguru. Click here to read Nandini.

Fiction

Flash Fiction: Peregrine: Brindley Hallam Dennis tells us the story of a cat and a human. Click here to read.

Rituals in the Garden: Marcelo Medone discusses motherhood, aging and loss in this poignant flash fiction from Argentina. Click here to read.

Navigational Error: Luke P.G. Draper explores the impact of pollution with a short compelling narrative. Click here to read.

Henrik’s Journey: Farah Ghuznavi follows a conglomerate of people on board a flight to address issues ranging from Rohingyas to race bias. Click here to read.

The Magic Staff , a poignant short story about a Rohingya child by Shaheen Akhtar, translated from Bengali by Arifa Ghani Rahman. Click here to read.

A Cat Story : Sohana Manzoor leaves one wondering if the story is about felines or… Click here to read. 

Pus Ki Raat or A Frigid Winter Night by Munshi Premchand has been translated from Hindi by C Christine Fair. Click here to read. 

American Wife: Suzanne Kamata gives a short story set set in the Obon festival in Japan. Click hereto read.

Hena, a short story by Nazrul, has been translated from Bengali by Sohana Manzoor. Click here to read. 

A Queen is Crowned: Farhanaz Rabbani traces the awakening of self worth. Click here to read.

A Penguin’s Story: Sreelekha Chatterjee writes a story from a penguin’s perspective. Click here to read.

Disappearance by Bitan Chakraborty has been translated from Bengali by Kiriti Sengupta. Click here to read.

The Sixth Man: C. J. Anderson-Wu tells a story around disappearances during Taiwan’s White terror. Click here to read.

Looking for Evans: Rashida Murphy writes a light-hearted story about a faux pas. Click here to read.

Used Steinways: Jonathan B. Ferrini shares a story about pianos and people set in Los Angeles. Click here to read.

The Beaten Rooster, a short story by Hamiruddin Middya, has been translated from Bengali by V Ramaswamy. Click here to read.

The Onion: JK Miller brings to us the story of a child in Khan Yunis. Click here to read.

Santa in the Autorickshaw: Snigdha Agrawal takes us to meet a syncretic spirit with a heartwarming but light touch. Click here to read.

The Untold Story: Neeman Sobhan gives us the story of a refugee from the 1971 Bangladesh Liberation War. Click here to read. 

The Wise Words of the Sun: Naramsetti Umamaheswararao relates a fable involving elements of nature. Click here to read.

The Headstone, a poignant story by Sharaf Shad has been translated by Fazal Baloch. Click here to read.

Sandy Cannot Write: Devraj Singh Kalsi takes us into the world of adverstising and glamour. Click here to read.

Musalmanir Galpa (A Muslim Woman’s Story) Tagore’s short story has been translated by Aruna Chakravarti. Click here to read.

Non-Fiction

 Haiku for Rwandan Girls: Suzanne Kamata writes of her trip to Africa where she teaches and learns from youngsters. Click here to read.

Menaced by a Marine Heatwave: Meredith Stephens writes of how global warming is impacting marine life in South Australia. Click here to read.

 ‘All Creatures Great and Small’: Devraj Singh Kalsi writes of animal interactions. Click here to read.

One Life, One Love, 300 Children: Keith Lyons writes of a woman who looked after 300 children. Click here to read.

When West Meets East & Greatness Blooms: Debraj Mookerjee reflects on how syncretism impacts greats like Tagore,Tolstoy, Emerson, Martin Luther King Jr, Gandhi and many more. Click here to read.

The Day Michael Jackson Died: A tribute  by Julian Matthews to the great talented star who died amidst ignominy and controversy. Click here to read.

Amrita Sher-Gil: An Avant-Garde Blender of the East & West: Bhaskar Parichha shows how Amrita Sher-Gil’s art absorbed the best of the East and the West. Click here to read.

Dramatising an Evolving Consciousness: Theatre with Nithari’s Children: Sanjay Kumar gives us a glimpse of how theatre has been used to transcend trauma and create bridges. Click here to read.

Potable Water Crisis & the Sunderbans: Camellia Biswas, a visitor to Sunderbans during the cyclone Alia, turns environmentalist and writes about the potable water issue faced by locals. Click here to read.

T.S Eliot’s The Waste Land: Finding Hope in Darkness: Dan Maloche muses on the century-old poem and its current relevance. Click here to read. 

 My Love for RK Narayan, Rhys Hughes discusses the novels by ths legendary writer from India. Click here to read.

Travels of Debendranath Tagore : These are travel narratives by Debendranath Tagore, father of Rabindranath Tagore, translated from Bengali by Somdatta Mandal. Click here to read.

The Comet’s Trail: Remembering Kazi Nazrul Islam: Radha Chakravarty pays tribute to the rebel poet of Bengal. Click here to read.

From Srinagar to Ladakh: A Cyclist’s Diary: Farouk Gulsara travels from Malaysia for a cycling adventure in Kashmir. Click here to read.

 Baraf Pora (Snowfall): This narrative gives a glimpse of Tagore’s first experience of snowfall in Brighton and published in the Tagore family journal, Balak (Children), has been translated by Somdatta Mandal . Click here to read.

In The Hidden Kingdom of Bhutan: Mohul Bhowmick explores Bhutan with words and his camera. Click here to read.

The Day of Annihilation: An essay on climate change by Kazi Nazrul Islam has been translated from Bengali by Radha Chakravarty. Click here to read.

Reminiscences from a Gallery: The Other Ray: Dolly Narang muses on Satyajit Ray’s world beyond films and shares a note by the maestro and an essay on his art by the eminent artist, Paritosh Sen. Click here to read.

The Bauls of Bengal: Aruna Chakravarti writes of wandering minstrels called bauls and the impact they had on Tagore. Click here to read.

The Literary Club of 18th Century London: Professor Fakrul Alam writes on literary club traditions of Dhaka, Kolkata and an old one from London. Click here to read.

From Madagascar to Japan: An Adventure or a Dream: Randriamamonjisoa Sylvie Valencia writes of her journey from Africa to Japan with a personal touch. Click here to read.

250 Years of Jane Austen: A Tribute: Meenakshi Malhotra pays a tribute to the writer. Click here to read.

The Chickpea That Logged More Mileage Than You: Ravi Varmman K Kanniappan gives an interesting account of the chickpeas journey through time and space, woven with a bit of irony. Click here to read.

The Day the Earth Quaked : Amy Sawitta Lefevre gives an eyewitness account of the March 28th earthquake from Bangkok. Click here to read.

Where Should We Go After the Last Frontiers: Ahamad Rayees writes from a village in Kashmir which homed refugees and still faced bombing. Click here to read.

The Last of the Barbers: How the Saloon Became the Salon (and Where the Gossip Went): Charudutta Panigrahi writes an essay steeped in nostalgia and yet weaving in the present. Click here to read.

That Time of Year: Rick Bailey muses about the passage of years. Click here to read.

The Untold Stories of a Wooden Suitcase: Larry S. Su recounts his past in China and weaves a narrative of resilience. Click here to read.

Adventures of a Backpacking Granny: Sybil Pretious recalls her travels across the world post sixty, including Kiliminjaro. Click here to read.

Categories
The Lost Mantras

It’s but a Memory… More Poems by Isa Kamari

Poetry and translations from Malay by Isa Kamari

Life By the River by Liu Kang (1911-2004)
Kampung Life by Lim Tze Peng (1921-2025)
Depiction of Kampung or village life in Singapore more than fifty years ago. From Public Domain 
THE BENCH

The melodious magpie on the bamboo twig --
the passing breeze welcomed the chirping. 
Sitting on a dilapidated wooden bench, 
under the thick canopy of the mango tree, 
village folks rested in the shade, 
calming the tremors of troubled hearts.
The hardship evident in the sighs, 
still hopeful of tomorrow’s dreams, 
drying the sweat of weariness. 
Honest earnings chased away worries.
A pinch on the thigh, a cry of pain. 
Laughter and jokes were shared merrily, 
teasing the maiden sitting by the door, 
smiling sheepishly, welcoming attention.
Recollecting a slice of an old tale, 
fun and camaraderie were reminisced, 
firm and amicable bonds were fostered.
It’s but a memory. It’s but a memory. It’s but a memory.
Now alone in a room, 
gazing at the handphone screen, 
chatting aimlessly in social media— 
do we remember and long for the dilapidated bench, 
crafting old tales, forging firm and amicable bonds?
Do we remember and pine 
for the maiden sitting by the door?



CUSTOMS

Customs are not like banana fritters 
coated with rice flour, dipped in hot oil, 
served instantly, crispy and delicious, eaten warm, 
accompanied by sips from a cup of black coffee.
Customs are like rain 
that falls on the whims of the weather. 
It’s always there, although infrequent, 
temperamental and purposeful, 
sometimes an inconvenience— plans thwarted— 
but always invigorating 
and instils a sense of acceptance.
If received with gratitude, 
directed with perseverance, 
and tempered with wisdom.
Life is beautiful with droplets of grace. 
Life is fertile with the pouring of bounties. 
Life is prosperous with love bestowed.
Customs make the earth supple. 
Customs make the village noble. 
Customs make a people well-mannered.
Once in a while, 
relish a crispy banana fritter 
and sip warm black coffee 
while it rains cats and dogs. 
Momentary disruption of plans, 
the alleys and roads flooded— 
moments of reflection, 
moments of appreciation for the day,
is inherent in droplets of grace, 
inherent in the pouring of bounties, 
inherent in love bestowed.
Shifting of time and signs 
the soil is tilled with purpose. 
The village gathers and collectively agrees, 
the people ready to realise 
aspirations of good character 
and respected stature.



SMOKE

Like smoke billowing amidst rubbish, 
he burns his self-worth, 
dances in the flames, 
when the fire is meant 
to warm breakfast and meals to school.
Now like smoke, 
his children are floating, 
begging for favours 
at tips of cigarettes and cars’ exhaust pipes, 
crushed by confusion in the stifling air.
Who would be hungry 
if the smoke does not billow in the kitchen, 
and for generations, 
our humanity returns uncooked to God?



CURSE OF A WARRIOR

Hail the snake and its venom! 
Call it a callous and rebellious act! 
Shame be endured, 
head decapitated! 
Surrender not, carry the corpse! 
Foolish is the mind, 
desperate are the moves.
Let death fulfil the curses. 
Let death be executed by the Angel. 
Destroy my body, take my soul. 
The wooden club hit the coffin. 
Pierce my tongue and neck. 
Stab my chest, guts dis-embowelled. 
Blood spurts, life departs.
The warrior kisses the earth. 
Blood turns into pus. 
Pus turns into ambers of Hell.
Let me die so you die. 
Let us die so everyone dies.
I give you my sin, my hurt, my sadness. 
You’ll bathe in blood.

 

Isa Kamari has written 12 novels, 3 collections of poetry, a collection of short stories, a book of essays on Singapore Malay poetry, a collection of theatre scripts and lyrics of 3 music albums, all in Malay. His novels have been translated into English, Turkish, Urdu, Arabic, Indonesian, Jawi, Russian, French, Spanish, Korean, Azerbaijan and Mandarin. Several of his essays and selected poems have been translated into English. Isa was conferred the S.E.A Write Award from Thailand (2006), the Singapore Cultural Medallion (2007), the Anugerah Tun Seri Lanang (2009) from the Singapore Malay Language Council, and the Mastera Literary Award (2018) from Brunei Darussalam.

He obtained a BArch (Hons) from the National University of Singapore in 1989, an MPhil (Malay Letters) from Universiti Kebangsaan Malaysia in 2008 and is currently pursuing a PhD programme at the Academy of Islamic Studies, Univeristi Malaya. His area of research is on the problem of alienation and the practice of firasat (spiritual intuition) in selected Singapore Malay novels.

The Lost Mantras is a collection that blends spirituality, Malay cultural heritage, and universal human experience. First published as part of Menyap Cinta (Love Greetings, 2022, Nuha Books KL), these poems are like a bridge between mysticism and everyday life, where traditional images (betel, jasmine, kris[1], oil lamps, setanjak[2]) are woven with Qur’anic echoes, prayers, and existential questioning. The collection carries a Sufi resonance—always circling back to longing, humility, surrender, and beauty as signs of God. The poems are not only lyrical but also function as cultural memory: they preserve Malay traditions, communal practices, and village life, while situating them in a cosmic framework of faith, sin, and redemption. The use of Malay customs, rituals, and objects is powerful: it asserts that spirituality is not abstract but embedded in heritage. This makes the collection uniquely Southeast Asian despite its universal in appeal.

[1]A dagger

[2] Malay headgear

PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles

Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Kindle Amazon International

Categories
The Lost Mantras

Four Poems by Isa Kamari

Women wearing baju kurongs and men wearing kain sampings. From Public Domain 
OIL LAMPS

We did not taste chicken unless it was Hari Raya.
Mats laid on the corridor floor in front of ten doors— 
the barrack houses at the end of Ramadan 
decorated by oil lamps at each corner. 
The gloomy village turned bright.
Each family brought out trays of varieties of dishes and cakes, 
the feast welcoming Shawal.
The call of prayer from the radio, 
followed by the hymns to glorify God. 
Life in the village was indeed harmonious, 
although sprinkled with misunderstandings, 
slighted feelings throughout the year.
Exchanging delicious food, 
extending congratulatory wishes, 
laughter and tears flowed unimpeded.
The young proceeded to the field, 
ignited the fuse of bamboo cannons 
stuffed with carbide powder fodder. 
The new moon was welcomed by blasts, claps, and cheers of happiness.
Flames of oil lamps swayed in the breeze, 
resplendent till the morning, 
before going to the mosque in groups, 
wearing the baju kurung and kain samping.


THE BENCH

The melodious magpie on the bamboo twig, 
the passing breeze welcomed the chirping. 
Sitting on a dilapidated wooden bench, 
the thick canopy of the mango tree, 
village folks rested in the shade, 
calming the tremors of troubled hearts.
The hardship evident in the sighs, 
still hopeful of tomorrow’s dreams, 
drying the sweat of weariness. 
Honest earnings chased away worries.
A pinch on the thigh, a cry of pain,
laughter and jokes were shared merrily, 
teasing the maiden sitting by the door, 
smiling sheepishly, welcoming attention.
Recollecting a slice of an old tale, 
fun and camaraderie were reminisced, 
firm and amicable bonds were fostered.
It’s but a memory. It’s but a memory. It’s but a memory.
Now alone in a room, 
gazing at the handphone screen, 
chatting aimlessly in social media— 
do we remember and long for the dilapidated bench, 
crafting old tales, forging firm and amicable bonds?
Do we remember and pine 
for the maiden sitting by the door?

CUSTOMS

Customs are not like banana fritters 
coated with rice flour, dipped in hot oil, 
served instantly, crispy and delicious, eaten warm, 
accompanied by sips from a cup of black coffee.
Customs are like rain 
that falls according to the weather. 
It’s always there, although infrequent, 
temperamental and purposeful, 
sometimes an inconvenience— plans thwarted— 
but always invigorating 
and instils a sense of acceptance.
If received with gratitude, 
directed with perseverance, 
and tempered with wisdom, 
life is beautiful with droplets of grace, 
life is fertile with the pouring of bounties, 
life is prosperous with love bestowed.
Customs make the earth supple. 
Customs make the village noble.
Customs make a people well-mannered.
Once in a while, 
relish a crispy banana fritter 
and sip warm black coffee 
while it rains cats and dogs. 
Momentary disruption of plans, 
the alleys and roads flooded— 
a moment of reflection, 
a moment of appreciation of the day, 
inherent in droplets of grace, 
inherent in the pouring of bounties, 
inherent in love bestowed.
Shifting of time and signs 
so the soil is tilled with purpose, 
so the village gathers and collectively agrees, 
the people ready to realise 
aspirations of good character 
and respected stature.

SIN

Sin is the earth, 
Sin is the water, 
Sin is the air, 
Sin is the fire, 
moved by a rebellious heart, 
whispered by a vile intention.
Yes, Sin is the arrogance. 
Yes, Sin is the pawn of power. 
Yes, Sin is shamelessness.
Sin is a human, 
who is given a will without limits, 
without pity, who wants to be the reigning deity, 
who wants to be the undeterred devil: 
also, a human who chooses to want darkness, 
wants to cheat, gorge, and be satiated:
the snake slithering in dark crevices, 
the scorpion hiding in an undetected nest, 
the leech waiting for prey in wetlands.
But Sin is the smelly compost that cultivates, 
the cracked mirror that reflects form, 
despondent valleys that look up to the summit, 
tumultuous sea flowing from the openness of estuaries.
If the earth, water, air, and fire 
are cleansed by seven skies, seven rivers, and seven blossoms, 
moved by a modest heart, 
whispered by a sincere intention, 
Yes, the Sin will change to Repentance. 
Yes, the Sin will change to Obedience. 
The Sin will become Blissful and Fragrant. 
Humanity.

Isa Kamari has written 12 novels, 3 collections of poetry, a collection of short stories, a book of essays on Singapore Malay poetry, a collection of theatre scripts and lyrics of 3 music albums, all in Malay. His novels have been translated into English, Turkish, Urdu, Arabic, Indonesian, Jawi, Russian, French, Spanish, Korean, Azerbaijan and Mandarin. Several of his essays and selected poems have been translated into English. Isa was conferred the S.E.A Write Award from Thailand (2006), the Singapore Cultural Medallion (2007), the Anugerah Tun Seri Lanang (2009) from the Singapore Malay Language Council, and the Mastera Literary Award (2018) from Brunei Darussalam.

He obtained a BArch (Hons) from the National University of Singapore in 1989, an MPhil (Malay Letters) from Universiti Kebangsaan Malaysia in 2008 and is currently pursuing a PhD programme at the Academy of Islamic Studies, Univeristi Malaya. His area of research is on the problem of alienation and the practice of firasat (spiritual intuition) in selected Singapore Malay novels.

The Lost Mantras is a collection that blends spirituality, Malay cultural heritage, and universal human experience. First published as part of Menyap Cinta (Love Greetings, 2022, Nuha Books KL), these poems are like a bridge between mysticism and everyday life, where traditional images (betel, jasmine, kris[1], oil lamps, setanjak[2]) are woven with Qur’anic echoes, prayers, and existential questioning. The collection carries a Sufi resonance—always circling back to longing, humility, surrender, and beauty as signs of God. The poems are not only lyrical but also function as cultural memory: they preserve Malay traditions, communal practices, and village life, while situating them in a cosmic framework of faith, sin, and redemption. The use of Malay customs, rituals, and objects is powerful: it asserts that spirituality is not abstract but embedded in heritage. This makes the collection uniquely Southeast Asian despite its universal in appeal.

[1]A dagger

[2] Malay headgear

PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles

Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Kindle Amazon International

Categories
Celebrating Humanity

Can Old Acquaintances be Forgot…

Our January 2025 Cover: Art by Sohana Manzoor

It has been a strange year for all of us. Amidst the chaos, bloodshed and climate disasters, Borderless Journal seems to be finding a footing in an orphaned world, connecting with writers who transcend borders and readers who delight in a universe knit with the variety and vibrancy of humanity. Like colours of a rainbow, the differences harmonise into an aubade, dawning a world with the most endearing of human traits, hope.

A short round up of this year starts with another new area of focus — a section with writings on environment and climate. Also, we are delighted to add we now host writers from more than forty countries. In October, we were surprised to see Borderless Journal listed on Duotrope and we have had a number of republications with acknowledgement — the last request was signed off this week for a republication of Ihlwha Choi’s poem in an anthology by Hatchette US. We have had many republications with due acknowledgment in India, Bangladesh, Pakistan and UK too among other places. Our team has been active too not just with words and art but also with more publications from Borderless. Rhys Hughes, who had a play performed to a full house in Wales recently, brought out a whole book of his photo-poems from Borderless. Bhaskar Parichha has started an initiative towards another new anthology from our content — Odia poets translated by Snehaprava Das. We are privileged to have all of you — contributors and readers — on board. And now, we invite you to savour some of our fare published in Borderless from January 2025 to December 2025. These are pieces that embody the spirit of a world beyond borders… 

Poetry

Click on the names to read the poems

Arshi, Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal, Snehaprava Das, Ron Pickett, Nziku Ann, Onkar Sharma, Harry Ricketts, Ashok Suri, Heath Brougher, Momina Raza, George Freek, Snigdha Agrawal, Stuart Macfarlane, Gazala Khan , Lizzie Packer, Rakhi Dalal, Jenny Middleton, Afsar Mohammad, Ryan Quinn Flanagan, Rhys Hughes

Translated Poetry

The Lost Mantras, Malay poems written and translated by Isa Kamari

The Dragonfly, a Korean poem written and translated by Ihlwha Choi

Ramakanta Rath’s Sri Radha, translated from Odiya by the late poet himself.

Identity by Munir Momin, translated from Balochi by Fazal Baloch

Found in Translation: Bipin Nayak’s Poetry, translated from Odiya by Snehaprava Das.

For Sanjay Kumar: To Sir — with Love by Tanvir , written for the late founder of pandies’ theatre, and translated from Hindustani by Lourdes M Surpiya.

Therefore: A Poem by Sukanta Bhattacharya, translated from Bengali by Kiriti Sengupta.

Poetry of Jibanananda Das, translated from Bengali by Fakrul Alam.

Tagore’s Pochishe Boisakh Cholechhe (The twenty fifth of Boisakh draws close…) translated from Bengali by Mitali Chakravarty. 

Fiction

An excerpt from Tagore’s long play, Roktokorobi or Red Oleanders, has been translated by Professor Fakrul Alam. Click here to read.

Ajit Cour’s short story, Nandu, has been translated from Punjabi by C Christine Fair. Click here to read.

A Lump Stuck in the Throat, a short story by Nasir Rahim Sohrabi translated from Balochi by Fazal Baloch. Click here to read.

Night in Karnataka: Rhys Hughes shares his play. Click here to read.

The Wise Words of the Sun: Naramsetti Umamaheswararao relates a fable involving elements of nature. Click here to read.

Looking for Evans: Rashida Murphy writes a light-hearted story about a faux pas. Click here to read.

Exorcising Mother: Fiona Sinclair narrates a story bordering on spooky. Click here to read.

The Fog of Forgotten Gardens: Erin Jamieson writes from a caregivers perspective. Click here to read.

Jai Ho Chai: Snigdha Agrawal narrates a funny narrative about sadhus and AI. Click here to read.

The Sixth Man: C. J. Anderson-Wu tells a story around disappearances during Taiwan’s White Terror. Click here to read.

Sleeper on the Bench: Paul Mirabile sets his strange story in London. Click here to read.

I Am Not My Mother: Gigi Baldovino Gosnell gives a story of child abuse set in Philippines where the victim towers with resilience. Click here to read.

Persona: Sohana Manzoor wanders into a glamorous world of expats. Click here to read.

In American Wife, Suzanne Kamata gives a short story set set in the Obon festival in Japan. Click here to read.

Sandy Cannot Write: Devraj Singh Kalsi takes us into the world of advertising and glamour. Click here to read.

Non Fiction

Classifications in Society by Tagore has been translated from Bengali by Somdatta Mandal. Click here to read.

The Day of Annihilation, an essay on climate change by Kazi Nazrul Islam, translated from Bengali by Radha Chakravarty. Click here to read.

The Bauls of Bengal: Aruna Chakravarti writes of wandering minstrels called bauls and the impact they had on Tagore. Click here to read.

The Literary Club of 18th Century London: Professor Fakrul Alam writes on literary club traditions of Dhaka, Kolkata and an old one from London. Click here to read.

Roquiah Sakhawat Hossein: How Significant Is She Today?: Niaz Zaman reflects on the relevance of one of the earliest feminists in Bengal. Click here to read.

Anadi: A Continuum in Art: Ratnottama Sengupta writes of an exhibition curated by her. Click here to read.

Reminiscences from a Gallery: The Other Ray: Dolly Narang muses on Satyajit Ray’s world beyond films and shares a note by the maestro and an essay on his art by the eminent artist, Paritosh Sen. Click here to read.

250 Years of Jane Austen: A Tribute: Meenakshi Malhotra pays a tribute to the writer. Click here to read.

Menaced by a Marine Heatwave: Meredith Stephens writes of how global warming is impacting marine life in South Australia. Click here to read.

Linen at Midnight: Pijus Ash relates a real-life spooky encounter in Holland. Click here to read.

Two Lives – A Writer and A Businessman: Chetan Datta Poduri explores two lives from the past and what remains of their heritage. Click here to read

‘Verify You Are Human’: Farouk Gulsara ponders over the ‘intelligence’ of AI and humans. Click here to read.

Where Should We Go After the Last Frontiers?: Ahamad Rayees writes from a village in Kashmir which homed refugees and still faced bombing. Click here to read.

The Jetty Chihuahuas: Vela Noble takes us for a stroll to the seaside at Adelaide. Click here to read.

The Word I Could Never Say: Odbayar Dorj muses on her own life in Mongolia and Japan. Click here to read.

On Safari in South Africa by Suzanne Kamata takes us to a photographic and narrative treat of the Kruger National Park. Click here to read.

The Day the Earth Quaked: Amy Sawitta Lefevre gives an eyewitness account of the March 28th earthquake from Bangkok. Clickhere to read.

From Madagascar to Japan: An Adventure or a Dream: Randriamamonjisoa Sylvie Valencia writes of her journey from Africa to Japan with a personal touch. Clickhere to read.

How Two Worlds Intersect: Mohul Bhowmick muses on the diversity and syncretism in Bombay or Mumbai. Click here to read.

Can Odia Literature Connect Traditional Narratives with Contemporary Ones: Bhaskar Parichha discusses the said issue. Click here to read.

A discussion on managing cyclones, managing the aftermath and resilience with Bhaksar Parichha, author of Cyclones in Odisha: Landfall, Wreckage, and Resilience. Click here to read.

A discussion of Jaladhar Sen’s The Travels of a Sadhu in the Himalayas, translated from Bengali by Somdatta Mandal, with an online interview with the translator. Click here to read.

A conversation with the author in Anuradha Kumar’s Wanderers, Adventurers, Missionaries: Early Americans in India . Click here to read.

Keith Lyons in conversation with Harry Ricketts, mentor, poet, essayist and more. Click here to read.

Categories
The Lost Mantras

A Song of the Wind & Other Poems by Isa Kamari

Flowers of Binjai
Binja or White Mango
From Public Domain 
A SONG OF THE WIND 

I surrender my body and soul 
to smoke, steam, and mist, 
which I gather with one last fibre of strength. 
Listen to this lonesome song, 
for the sun is envious of my existence.
This life yearns for separation; 
frailty is only human. 
Ballads after ballads you would know. 
An honest young man is always chided for his age. 
The unending love of parents 
sometimes makes them act as dictators.
If you feel life as silkworms 
dreaming of freedom, 
just remember your wings have broken 
the moment you willingly accept 
the smoothness of silk.
If the clouds are too heavy 
for the roof of your home, 
call the wind, summon the earth. 
Then you would taste the sweetness of charity.
But remember, 
a barren land sometimes is best left barren, 
for art also seeks justice. 
Proclaim, but do not claim, 
for your worth is still in a balance.
As life is a bountiful gift, 
be discreet in giving alms, 
but you must be brave to challenge, 
although it means 
you have to burn a piece of love letter.
For God is closer than your jugular vein.
I come to you from a dusty journey 
where I gather smiles from smoke, steam, and mist. 
Listen to this lonesome song for a while, 
for I am envious of the ensuing dusk.

MOTHER

Oh, Allah, 
I know of your Love 
from the binjai which she craved for— 
a slice from the only fruit plucked by a neighbour.
I know of your Mercy 
from the warmth of the womb that protects a soul, 
a frail presence in want of a mouthful of rice mixed 
with soy sauce and fried fish, 
under the thick foliage of the tree of Time, 
offering shade to the unfolding age.
The moment she left to meet You, 
the tree of Hope fell; 
the kingdom of the Hereafter shook in my soul. 
Parting will ultimately lead to meeting again.
Only to You I surrender, 
begging for your love for Mother— 
a straight path tracing her footsteps; 
asking for your mercy for Mother— 
which overrides your wrath over my life astray; 
seeking your gentle affection, 
as warm as Mother’s fingers.

TWEET

The chirping has escaped the cage. 
The chirping is free; the trap is empty. 
The chirping is returned and received. 
The chirping is delirious on the rotten branch.
Your tail searches for the nest, 
Your claws clench the twigs, 
Your wings sift the wind, 
Your beak catches the worm, 
Your eyes survey the rainbow.
Hey you, the bird which has escaped! 
Hey you, the bird which is free! 
You bring along the cage in your flight. 
The trap awaits your return.
If your tail is not guided by faith, 
If your claws are not holding on to good deeds, 
If your wings are not spreading grace, 
If your beak is not chirping gratitude, 
If your eyes are not seeking redemption— 
Your song is a caged cry, 
Your tweet is a prisoned anguish. 
The resplendent feathers that you show off 
are hiding a sadness as wide as the sky.

THE TRAIN

The door will close.
If religion is the track, 
it does not determine 
the path and destination for commuters. 
They board and alight at different stations, 
not the one, not the only one, not the same always.
Religion is like a map; 
it does not make life boring, 
does not block a journey, 
shows the path anywhere you go, 
not the one, not the only one, not the same always.
We are not carriages 
that do not have choices. 
Just make sure the meandering path is fun and secure, 
the last stop safe and peaceful.
The door will close. 
The One awaits there, 
wherever it is.
The inside of a binjai mango. From Public Domain

Isa Kamari has written 12 novels, 3 collections of poetry, a collection of short stories, a book of essays on Singapore Malay poetry, a collection of theatre scripts and lyrics of 3 music albums, all in Malay. His novels have been translated into English, Turkish, Urdu, Arabic, Indonesian, Jawi, Russian, French, Spanish, Korean, Azerbaijan and Mandarin. Several of his essays and selected poems have been translated into English. Isa was conferred the S.E.A Write Award from Thailand (2006), the Singapore Cultural Medallion (2007), the Anugerah Tun Seri Lanang (2009) from the Singapore Malay Language Council, and the Mastera Literary Award (2018) from Brunei Darussalam.

He obtained a BArch (Hons) from the National University of Singapore in 1989, an MPhil (Malay Letters) from Universiti Kebangsaan Malaysia in 2008 and is currently pursuing a PhD programme at the Academy of Islamic Studies, Univeristi Malaya. His area of research is on the problem of alienation and the practice of firasat (spiritual intuition) in selected Singapore Malay novels.

The Lost Mantras is a collection that blends spirituality, Malay cultural heritage, and universal human experience. First published as part of Menyap Cinta (Love Greetings, 2022, Nuha Books KL), these poems are like a bridge between mysticism and everyday life, where traditional images (betel, jasmine, kris[1], oil lamps, setanjak[2]) are woven with Qur’anic echoes, prayers, and existential questioning. The collection carries a Sufi resonance—always circling back to longing, humility, surrender, and beauty as signs of God. The poems are not only lyrical but also function as cultural memory: they preserve Malay traditions, communal practices, and village life, while situating them in a cosmic framework of faith, sin, and redemption. The use of Malay customs, rituals, and objects is powerful: it asserts that spirituality is not abstract but embedded in heritage. This makes the collection uniquely Southeast Asian despite its universal in appeal.

[1]A dagger

[2] Malay headgear

PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles

Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Kindle Amazon International

Categories
The Lost Mantras

More Poems by Isa Kamari

Poetry and translation from Malay by Isa Kamari

DAWN

Hey, the morning breaks! 
Hey, the faithful sun! 
Hey, the disappearing dew! 
Hey, the layered air!
The breath desires, 
the soul asks: 
Who do you greet?
Have you pondered, sons of Adam? 
Death awaits, life prolongs. 
Have you realised, progenies of Eve? 
The earth is impregnated and layered by purpose.
The one that you welcome is the morning, 
The one that you coax is the sun, 
The one that you touch gently is the dew, 
The one that you breathe is the air.
The gift of death, 
life fulfilled, 
accompanies the inevitable: 
morning, sun, dew, and air.
A breath dissipates, a soul obliterates. 
Nothingness. Gone.
Hey!

THE FIELD

The green grass is a mother’s heart, 
the velvet of love for her children.
Although stepped upon by mischief and transgression, 
she distils dews of hope 
that her children would grow with the sun.
The earth is the preparation of a father: 
soil and compost for his children 
where character would be rooted. 
Barren or fertile, 
he digs into his responsibility and self-worth, 
as long as the rain nourishes his age.
Grass flowers are the children 
who only know the joy of the wind 
for as long as their dreams 
have not landed on earth 
and kissed the grass.

MOLTEN EARTH 

This moment, 
we’re walking in the rain, 
accompanied by a bluish rainbow 
and red birds with purple blood. 
If they’re heading towards the dais, 
we have yet to embrace the longing.
When the moon is in tears, 
it’s just ill-suited for us to sail 
on the orange henna sea.
In truth, 
we verily love the eagle 
that flies in the desolate morning. 
If not for ravens like you, 
our forest would be infested with rabbits. 
Give us white wings; 
we want to fly with blue birds 
that return to reciprocate love.
We want to taste milk. 
Is it for us only urine, 
the manifestation of love by dogs?
Sound your prayer call in our shacks 
so that our tears 
are not just to bear 
the pain and bitterness 
of a plate of rice.
If your pensiveness is just to reminisce 
the sufferings of night longing for day, 
our tears have flowed 
from the earth’s molten belly, 
which are stepped upon 
by saints like you and them 
who have cast curses 
upon us wretched souls.

POTPOURRI 

The screw pine thrives on damp soil, 
next to the swampy pond. 
It spreads its green in the wild; 
roots clench the earth we tread upon.
The jasmine grows on the lawn, 
marks the boundaries of property. 
Sturdy branches, leaves flourish; 
petals open, greet the clouds.
The sliced screw pine in a receptacle, 
the jasmine blossoms spread on the tray, 
perfume sprinkled to enhance the scent: 
the potpourri of bunga rampai welcomes guests.
The ceremony officiated by the qadi, 
the couple duly married, 
customs and culture celebrated in fragrance, 
religious laws honoured on the dais.
The shaving of the baby’s head, 
first steps on the soil, 
the coffin carried to the grave— 
the potpourri of bunga rampai 
adorns every domain, 
binding firmly entire life’s moments.
Bunga rampai — fresh flower potpourri used in Malay festivities and funerals. From Public Domain.

Isa Kamari has written 12 novels, 3 collections of poetry, a collection of short stories, a book of essays on Singapore Malay poetry, a collection of theatre scripts and lyrics of 3 music albums, all in Malay. His novels have been translated into English, Turkish, Urdu, Arabic, Indonesian, Jawi, Russian, French, Spanish, Korean, Azerbaijan and Mandarin. Several of his essays and selected poems have been translated into English. Isa was conferred the S.E.A Write Award from Thailand (2006), the Singapore Cultural Medallion (2007), the Anugerah Tun Seri Lanang (2009) from the Singapore Malay Language Council, and the Mastera Literary Award (2018) from Brunei Darussalam.

He obtained a BArch (Hons) from the National University of Singapore in 1989, an MPhil (Malay Letters) from Universiti Kebangsaan Malaysia in 2008 and is currently pursuing a PhD programme at the Academy of Islamic Studies, Univeristi Malaya. His area of research is on the problem of alienation and the practice of firasat (spiritual intuition) in selected Singapore Malay novels.

The Lost Mantras is a collection that blends spirituality, Malay cultural heritage, and universal human experience. First published as part of Menyap Cinta (Love Greetings, 2022, Nuha Books KL), these poems are like a bridge between mysticism and everyday life, where traditional images (betel, jasmine, kris[1], oil lamps, setanjak[2]) are woven with Qur’anic echoes, prayers, and existential questioning. The collection carries a Sufi resonance—always circling back to longing, humility, surrender, and beauty as signs of God. The poems are not only lyrical but also function as cultural memory: they preserve Malay traditions, communal practices, and village life, while situating them in a cosmic framework of faith, sin, and redemption. The use of Malay customs, rituals, and objects is powerful: it asserts that spirituality is not abstract but embedded in heritage. This makes the collection uniquely Southeast Asian despite its universal in appeal.

[1]A dagger

[2] Malay headgear

PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles

Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Kindle Amazon International

Categories
The Lost Mantras

Poems by Isa Kamari

Poetry and translation from Malay by Isa Kamari

THE KING

I bow to you, King.
I bear the torment of your sadness 
in the embrace of my sleep.
May it transform into glad tidings 
for the days of your people.
This exploration is to find your throne, 
which has disappeared from our hearts. 
For my love to you, King.

JASMINES

Earth jasmines, sky jasmines,
a string of jasmines encircles the heart,
jasmines poured with water from the hills, 
jasmines sprinkled by a pinch of compost.
Seven rivers, seven clouds—
rain pelts onto forlorn petals.
Beauty is in the form, 
beauty to the eyes, 
beauty is the hand that tends to the soil, 
beauty is the fingers that caress the leaves, 
beauty is the cut on the arms of the gardener.
The scorching sun, 
the shade from the foliage,
bountiful is the soul of the tree that delivers, 
witness to a life devoted to hard work, 
with the laws of nature as the axis.
Strong roots clench the earth, 
shoots look up high to the sky. 
Stand firmly, the soul sings. 
Blossoms waft fragrant dreams.
Earth jasmines, sky jasmines, 
bloom in the early morning.
Say your prayers, 
introduce yourself.

BETEL LEAVES 

To be at the top 
is to function at the bottom, 
upholding responsibilities and trust, 
strengthening shared roots. 
The fragile branches are free to stretch, 
the green leaves spread wide. 
Wild betel, untouched betel, 
covers the soil, climbs the trellis.
To be at the peak 
in essence is to grow shoots, 
carrying fertile hopes and dreams, 
giving way and space to grow, 
to climb each posting energetically, 
to qualify for the position when seasons change. 
Lofty betels, heavenly betels, 
reach for the stars, greet the clouds.
To be in the ceremonial receptacle 
in essence is to uphold tradition, 
surrendering to the preservation of culture. 
Typically chewed with lime, slicing problems, 
mature-red in speech, 
tracing the lives of roots and shoots. 
Wild betel, untouched betel, lofty betel, 
heavenly betel, courtship betel, customary betel, 
weaving values and the essence of leadership 
entrenched in tradition.

HOME

Free souls wouldn’t be easily bored 
by mentoring and demands, 
for it’s the stable self 
that gives rise to liberation.
And that’s called freedom —
it isn't about release without aims, 
just like city folks, 
released from home or work, 
wander aimlessly at shopping malls, 
seek excitement from novelty and transience.
It isn't that Life doesn’t require variety, 
or it isn't that the soul doesn’t long for fun.
It’s just that we who claim to be free 
are easily entrapped in useless pettiness 
that we spread in the city 
without ever realising 
that we haven’t returned to the doors of our hearts, 
although we’ve stepped afoot 
onto the compound of the house.

Isa Kamari : A foremost Malay writer from Singapore: Photo provided by the poet.

Isa Kamari has written 12 novels, 3 collections of poetry, a collection of short stories, a book of essays on Singapore Malay poetry, a collection of theatre scripts and lyrics of 3 music albums, all in Malay. His novels have been translated into English, Turkish, Urdu, Arabic, Indonesian, Jawi, Russian, French, Spanish, Korean, Azerbaijan and Mandarin. Several of his essays and selected poems have been translated into English. Isa was conferred the S.E.A Write Award from Thailand (2006), the Singapore Cultural Medallion (2007), the Anugerah Tun Seri Lanang (2009) from the Singapore Malay Language Council, and the Mastera Literary Award (2018) from Brunei Darussalam.

He obtained a BArch (Hons) from the National University of Singapore in 1989, an MPhil (Malay Letters) from Universiti Kebangsaan Malaysia in 2008 and is currently pursuing a PhD programme at the Academy of Islamic Studies, Univeristi Malaya. His area of research is on the problem of alienation and the practice of firasat (spiritual intuition) in selected Singapore Malay novels.

The Lost Mantras is a collection that blends spirituality, Malay cultural heritage, and universal human experience. First published as part of Menyap Cinta (Love Greetings, 2022, Nuha Books KL), these poems are like a bridge between mysticism and everyday life, where traditional images (betel, jasmine, kris[1], oil lamps, setanjak[2]) are woven with Qur’anic echoes, prayers, and existential questioning. The collection carries a Sufi resonance—always circling back to longing, humility, surrender, and beauty as signs of God. The poems are not only lyrical but also function as cultural memory: they preserve Malay traditions, communal practices, and village life, while situating them in a cosmic framework of faith, sin, and redemption. The use of Malay customs, rituals, and objects is powerful: it asserts that spirituality is not abstract but embedded in heritage. This makes the collection uniquely Southeast Asian while still universal in appeal

[1] A dagger

[2] Malay headgear

PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles

Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Kindle Amazon International

Categories
Contents

Borderless, September 2025

Art by Sohana Manzoor

Editorial

Seasons Out of Time… Click here to read

Translations

Nazrul’s Karar Oi Louho Kopat (Those Iron Shackles of Prison) has been translated from Bengali by Professor Fakrul Alam. Click here to read.

Five poems by Ashwini Mishra have been translated from Odia by Snehprava Das. Click here to read.

The Dragonfly, a poem by Ihlwha Choi,  has been translated from Korean by the poet himself. Click here to read.

Tagore’s Aaj Shororter Aloy (Today, in the Autumnal Light) has been translated from Bengali by Mitali Chakravarty. Click here to read.

Poetry

Click on the names to read the poems

Ryan Quinn Flanagan, Onkar Sharma, Ron Pickett, Arshi, Joseph K Wells, Shamim Akhtar, Stephen House, Mian Ali, John Grey, Juliet F Lalzarzoliani, Joseph C.Obgonna, Jim Bellamy, Soumyadwip Chakraborty, Richard Stimac, Sanzida Alam, Jim Murdoch, Rhys Hughes

Poets, Poetry & Rhys Hughes

In Soaring with Icarus, Rhys Hughes shares a serious poems. Click here to read.

Musings/ Slices from Life

Parenting Tips from a Quintessential Nerd

Farouk Gulsara relooks at our golden years and stretches it to parenting tips. Click here to read.

Instrumental in Solving the Crime

Meredith Stephens takes us to a crime scene with a light touch. Click here to read.

What’s in a Name?

Jun A Alindogan writes about the complex evolution of names in Phillippines. Click here to read.

Bibapur Mansion: A Vintage Charmer

Prithvijeet Sinha takes us for a tour of Lucknow’s famed vintage buildings. Click here to read.

Musings of a Copywriter

In Demolition Drives… for Awards?, Devraj Singh Kalsi muses on literary awards. Click here to read.

Notes from Japan

In Contending with a Complicated History, Suzanne Kamata writes of her trip to US from Japan. Click here to read.

Essays

The Bauls of Bengal

Aruna Chakravarti writes of wandering minstrels called bauls and the impact they had on Tagore. Click here to read.

The Literary Club of 18th Century London

Professor Fakrul Alam writes on literary club traditions of Dhaka, Kolkata and an old one from London. Click here to read.

Stories

Looking for Evans

Rashida Murphy writes a light-hearted story about a faux pas. Click here to read.

Exorcising Mother

Fiona Sinclair narrates a story bordering on spooky. Click here to read.

The Storm

Anandita Dey wanders down strange alleys of the mind. Click here to read.

The Fog of Forgotten Gardens

Erin Jamieson writes from a caregivers perspective. Click here to read

The Anger of a Good Man

Naramsetti Umamaheswararao makes up a new fable. Click here to read.

Feature

A review of Jaladhar Sen’s The Travels of a Sadhu in the Himalayas, translated from Bengali by Somdatta Mandal, and an online interview with the translator. Click here to read.

Book Excerpts

An excerpt from Jaladhar Sen’s The Travels of a Sadhu in the Himalayas, translated from Bengali by Somdatta Mandal. Click here to read.

An excerpt from Prithvijeet Sinha’s debut collection of poems, A Verdant Heart. Click here to read.

Book Reviews

Somdatta Mandal reviews Aruna Chakravarti’s selected and translated, Rising From the Dust: Dalit Stories from Bengal. Click here to read.

Rakhi Dalal reviews Mohua Chinappa’s Thorns in My Quilt: Letters from a Daughter to her Father. Click here to read.

Pradip Mondal reviews Kiriti Sengupta’s Selected Poems. Click here to read.

Bhaskar Parichha reviews Kalyani Ramnath’s Boats in a Storm: Law, Migration, and Decolonization in South and Southeast Asia, 1942–1962. Click here to read.

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Categories
Editorial

Seasons Out of Time

Today, as I gaze in this autumnal light,
   I feel I am viewing life anew.

— Tagore's Aaj Shororter Aloy (Today, in the Autumnal Light)
Autumn Garden by Vincent Van Gogh (1853-1890). From Public Domain

September heralds the start of year-end festivities around the world. It’s autumn in one part and spring in another – both seasons that herald change. While our planet celebrates changes, dichotomies, opposites and inclusively gazes with wonder at the endless universe in all its splendour, do we? Festivals are times of good cheer and fun with our loved ones. And yet, a large part of the world seems to be in disarray with manmade disasters wrought by our own species on its own home planet. Despite the sufferings experienced by victims of climate and war-related calamities, the majority will continue to observe rituals out of habit while subscribing to exclusivity and shun change in any form. Occasionally, there are those who break all rules to create a new norm.

One such group of people are the bauls or mendicants from Bengal. Aruna Chakravarti has shared an essay about these people who have created a syncretic lore with music and nature, defying the borders that divide humanity into exclusive groups. As if to complement this syncretic flow, we have Professor Fakrul Alam’s piece on a human construct, literary clubs spanning different cultures spread over centuries – no less an area in which we find norms redefined for, the literary, often, are the harbingers of change.

Weaving in stories from around the world, our non-fiction section offers parenting tips ( or are these really nerdy meanderings?) from Farouk Gulsara who looks inclusively at all life forms — big and small, including humans. Meredith Stephens brings us a sobering narrative with a light touch from the Southern Hemisphere. Prithvijeet Sinha takes us to explore an ancient monument of Lucknow and Jun A. Alindogan tells us “what’s in a name” in Philippines — it’s quite complex really  — it reads almost as complicated as a Japanese addresses explained in her column by Suzanne Kamata. In this issue, she takes us through the complexities of history in South Carolina, while Devraj Singh Kalsi analyses literary awards with a dollop of irony!

Humour is brought into poetry by Rhys Hughes, though his column houses more serious poems. Joseph C.Obgonna has an interesting take on his hat — if you please. We have poetry on climate by Onkar Sharma. Verses as usual mean variety on our pages. In this issue, we have a poem (an ekphrastic, if we were given to labelling) by Ryan Quinn Flanagan on a painting, by Ron Pickett on aging and on a variety of issues by Arshi, Joseph K Wells, Shamim Akhtar, Stephen House, Mian Ali, John Grey, Jim Murdoch, Juliet F Lalzarzoliani, Jim Bellamy, Soumyadwip Chakraborty, Richard Stimac and Sanzida Alam. We have translations of poetry. Ihlwha Choi has self-translated his poem on a dragonfly from Korean. Snehprava Das has brought to us another Odia poet, Ashwini Mishra. Tagore’s Aaj Shororter Aloy (Today, in the Autumnal Light) has been translated from Bengali. Though the poem starts lightly with the poet bathed in autumnal light, it dwells on ‘eternal truths’ while Nazrul’s Karar Oi Louho Kopat (Those Iron Shackles of Prison), transcreated by Professor Alam, reiterates breaking gates that exclude and highlight differences. In the same spirit as that of the bauls, Nazrul’s works ask for inclusivity as do those of Tagore.

We have more poetry in book excerpts with Sinha’s debut collection of poems, A Verdant Heart, and in reviews with veteran poet Kiriti Sengupta’s Selected Poems, reviewed by academic Pradip Mondal. Rakhi Dalal has written on Mohua Chinappa’s Thorns in my Quilt: Letters from a father to a Daughter. while Bhaskar Parichha has discussed Kalyani Ramnath’s Boats in a Storm: Law, Migration, and Decolonization in South and Southeast Asia, 1942–1962, a book that explores beyond the boundaries that politicians draw for humanity. The pièce de résistance in this section is Somdatta Mandal’s exploration of Aruna Chakravarti’s selected and translated, Rising from the Dust: Dalit Stories from Bengal. The book stands out not just for the translation but also with the selection which showcases an attempt to create bridges that transcend linguistic and cultural barriers.

Mandal, herself, has a brilliant translation featured in this issue. We have a review of her book, an interview with her, and an excerpt from the translation of Jaladhar Sen’s The Travels of a Sadhu in the Himalayas. Written and first published in the Tagore family journal, Bharati, the narrative is an outstanding cultural bridge which even translates Bengali humour for an Anglophone readership. That Sen had a strictly secular perspective in the nineteenth century when blind devotion was often a norm is showcased in Mandal’s translation as well as the stupendous descriptions of the Himalayas that haunt with elegant simplicity. 

Our fiction this month seems largely focussed on women’s stories from around the world. While Fiona Sinclair and Erin Jamieson reflect on mother-daughter relationships, Anandita Dey looks into a woman’s dilemma as she tries to adjust to the accepted norm of an ‘arranged’ marriage. Rashida Murphy explores deep rooted social biases that create issues faced by a woman with a light touch. Naramsetti Umamaheswararao brings in variety with a fable – a story that reflects human traits transcending gender disparity.

The September issue would not have been possible without contributions of words and photographs by many of you. Huge thanks to all of you, to the fabulous team and to Sohana Manzoor, whose art has become synonymous with our journal. And our heartfelt thanks to our wonderful readers, without who the effort of putting together this journal would be pointless. Thank you all.

Looking forward to happier times.

Mitali Chakravarty

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