Abelard & Heloise, a French painting between 1425-1450
Love affairs are usually secret, But some must be kept especially hidden. In the case of Abelard and Heloise*, it had to be secret, Though no matter how flawless a love affair may be, it is best hidden. Because even then, it was not declared that God is dead. Daytime words were heard by birds, and night-time words by rats. Lotte and Werther*, Caused turmoil before the expiration date, Romeo and Juliet*, Were talked of by people. A love that has passed its expiration date should blend into the myriad of green like a flowering tree, But being left desolate like the back of a sandcastle by the sea Or an empty reed warbler nest in a field Is a lonely affair. Though a story ascends high into the peaks of immortality And a spectacular scene tempered by fiery flames may remain, In the case of Abelard and Heloise, who heated the Middle Ages, It was an age-old battle between God and mortals.
*The names of a high-ranking cleric and a young nun in medieval France. *Lotte and Werther from Johann Wolfgang Goethe’s 1774 novel, The Sorrows of Young Werther *Romoeo & Juliet (1597, play by William Shakespeare)
Ihlwha Choi is a South Korean poet. He has published multiple poetry collections, such as Until the Time When Our Love will Flourish, The Color of Time, His Song and The Last Rehearsal.
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PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL.
In Dylan on Worm’s Head, Rhys Hughes describes a misadventure that the Welsh poet had while hiking as a tribute to him on Dylan Thomas Day. Clickhereto read.
Munaj Gul gives an in memoriam for a photographer from Balochistan. Clickhere to read.
Musings of a Copywriter
In ‘Is this a Dagger I See…?‘, Devraj Singh Kalsi gives a tongue-in-cheek account of a writer’s dilemma. Click here to read.
Notes from Japan
In A Golden Memory of Green Day in Japan, Suzanne Kamata tells us of a festival where she planted a tree in the presence of the Japanese royalty. Click here to read.
Perhaps when Dylan Thomas wrote these lines, he did not know how relevant they would sound in context of the world as it is with so many young dying in wars, more than seven decades after he passed on. No poet does. Neither did he. As the world observes Dylan Thomas Day today — the day his play, Under the Milkwood, was read on stage in New York a few months before he died in 1953 — we have a part humorous poem as tribute to the poet and his play by Stuart McFarlane and a tribute from our own Welsh poet, Rhys Hughes, describing a fey incident around Thomas in prose leading up to a poem.
May seems to be a month when we celebrate birthdays of many writers, Tagore, Nazrul and Ruskin Bond. Tagore’s birthday was in the early part of May in 1861 and we celebrated with a special edition on him. Bond, who turns a grand ninety this year, continues to dazzle his readers with fantastic writings from the hills, narratives which reflect the joie de vivre of existence, of compassion and of love for humanity and most importantly his own world view. His books have the rare quality of being infused with an incredible sense of humour and his unique ability to make fun of himself and laugh with all of us.
Nazrul, on the other hand, dreamt, hoped and wrote for an ideal world in the last century. The commonality among all these writers, seemingly so diverse in their outlooks and styles, is the affection they express for humanity. Celebrating the writings of Nazrul, we have one of his fiery speeches translated from Bengali by Radha Chakravarty and a review of her Selected Essays: Kazi Nazrul Islam by Somdatta Mandal. An essay from Niaz Zaman dwells on the feminist side of Nazrul while bringing in Begum Roquiah. Zaman has also shared translations of his poetry. Professor Fakrul Alam, who had earlier translated Nazrul’s iconic ‘Bidrohi or Rebel‘, has given us a beautiful rendition of his song ‘Projapoti or Butterfly’ in English. Also in translation, is a poem by Tagore on the process of writing poetry. Balochi poetry by Manzur Bismil on human nature has been rendered into English by Fazal Baloch and yet another poem from Korean to English by Ilwha Choi.
Ratnottama Sengupta this month converses with a dancer who tries to build bridges with the tinkling of her bells, Sohini Roychowdhury. Gita Viswanthan travels to Khiva in Uzbekistan, historically located on the Silk Route, with words and camera. An essay on Akbar Barakzai by Hazran Rahim Dad and another looking into literature around maladies by Satyarth Pandita add zest to our non-fiction section. Though these seem to be a heterogeneous collection of themes, they are all tied together with the underlying idea of creating links to build towards a better future.
In focus this time is a writer whose prose is almost akin to poetry, Rajat Chaudhuri. A proponent of solarpunk, his novel, Spellcasters, takes us to fictitious cities modelled on Delhi and Kolkata. In his interview, Chaudhuri tells us: “The path to utopia is not necessarily through dystopia. We can start hoping and acting today before things get really bad. Which is the locus of the whole solarpunk movement with which I am closely associated as an editor and creator…”
On that note, I would like to end with a couple of lines from Nazrul, who reiterates how the old gives way to new in Proloyullash (The Frenzy of Destruction, translated by Alam): “Why fear destruction? / It’s the gateway to creation!” Will destruction be the turning point for creation of a new world? And should the destruction be of human constructs that hurt humanity (like wars and weapons) or of humanity and the planet Earth? As the solarpunk movement emphasises, we need to act to move towards a better world. And how would one act? Perhaps, by getting in touch with the best in themselves and using it to act for the betterment of humankind? These are all points to ponder… if you have any ideas that need a forum on such themes, do share with us.
We have more content which has not been woven into this piece for the sheer variety of themes they encompass. Do pause by our content’s page and browse on all our pieces.
With warm thanks to our wonderful team at Borderless — especially Sohana Manzoor for her fabulous art — I would like to express gratitude to all our contributors, without who we could not create this journal. We would also like to thank our readers for making it worth our while to write — for all of our words look to be read, savoured and mulled, and maybe, some will evolve into treasured wines.
Presenting a poem as a member of a poets' group, Climbing the mountain hoping not to disturb the peace of birds and trees, I can look around, Feeling relieved that quitting smoking was a good decision. I think it's time to quit drinking after reflecting on over-drinking the other day, Think it's better to eat lesser for health. I sit on a sesame field or at the tip of a thistle tree like a red dragonfly. Yielding the television to the family, I return to my room and browse over poetry I used to enjoy. Finally, I look back on not being a good father figure, Finding excuses though to say that isn't it in my heart.
Ihlwha Choi is a South Korean poet. He has published multiple poetry collections, such as Until the Time When Our Love will Flourish, The Color of Time, His Song and The Last Rehearsal.
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PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL.
Baraf Pora (Snowfall) by Rabindranath Tagore,gives a glimpse of his first experience of snowfall in Brighton and published in the Tagore family journal, Balak (Children), has been translated from Bengali by Somdatta Mandal. Clickhere to read.
Himalaya Jatra( A trip to Himalayas) by Tagore, has been translated from his Jibon Smriti (1911, Reminiscenses) by Somdatta Mandal from Bengali. Click here to read.
Bhumika (Introduction) by Tagore has been translated from Bengali by Ratnottama Sengupta. Click here to read.
The Fire-grinding Quern by Manzur Bismil has been translated from Balochi by Fazal Baloch. Clickhere to read.
The Tobacco Lover by Ihlwha Choi has been translated from Korean by the poet himself. Clickhere to read.
Pochishe Boisakh(25th of Baisakh) by Tagore(1922), has been translated from Bengali by Mitali Chakravarty. Click here to read.
Pandies Corner
Songs of Freedom: Dear Me… is an autobiographical narrative by Ilma Khan, translated from Hindustani by Janees. These narrations highlight the ongoing struggle against debilitating rigid boundaries drawn by societal norms, with the support from organisations like Shaktishalini and pandies’. Click here to read.
Paul Mirabile gives a gripping tale about a young pyromaniac. Click hereto read.
Conversation
Ratnottama Sengupta in conversation about Kitareba, a contemporary dance performance on immigrants, with Sudarshan Chakravorty, a choreographer, and founder of the Sapphire Dance Company. Click here to read.
A gentleman in a suit descends in the elevator from the eighth floor and walks to the base of a maple tree, lighting a cigarette. From the twelfth floor, another gentleman in a suit walks down the corridor, takes the elevator down the stairs, and heads to the shade of the maple tree, lighting another cigarette.
Several people gather, lighting their cigarettes, but no words are exchanged among them. Conversations reside within the smoke of their cigarettes.
It's been seventeen years since a comedian did a no-smoking public service announcement and left.
Through the respiratory track and lung rotations, the smoke, exhaled from mouths and nostrils, disperse, but the scent clings to the tongue, gums, and roof of the mouth.
Carcinogens are sprayed into blood vessels, brain cells, and nerve cells, and the smell permeates ties, fingers, and hair. The carcinogens refill the elevator and ascend from the first floor to the second, then to the twelfth.
Ignoring the sensitive noses of customers has become a habit. I believe in the saying, "You grow to love what you know."
How can one understand the heart of someone who doesn't know the taste of tobacco, as they leave the office, ride the elevator, and head to the shade of the maple tree to light up a cigarette? The relationship between tobacco, its lovers, and the maple tree is expected to continue for a while longer.
Ihlwha Choi is a South Korean poet. He has published multiple poetry collections, such as Until the Time When Our Love will Flourish, The Color of Time, His Song and The Last Rehearsal.
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PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL.
Celebrating poetry around the world, our focus this year is on refugees, immigrants or poetry by migrants… In a way, we are all migrants on this Earth and yet immigration for both climate and war has created dissatisfaction in the hearts of many. Can mankind unify under the single blue dome which covers all our home?
“The Journey” by Alwy Fadhel, an asylum seeker to Australia. The piece is included in the Exile collection of the Refugee Art Project. Art from Public Domain.
We start by welcoming migrants from Jupiter but how do we react to human migrants within Earth… ?
All the Way from Jupiter
By Rhys Hughes
All the way from Jupiter came the refugees, their heads made of hydrogen, and helium, their knees. No one cried: depravity! for we were pleased to help them relocate to Earth: we offered them homes inside plastic domes uncrowded but full of swirling clouds blown by the music of fierce trombones to mimic the crushing gravity.
All the way from one of our homegrown war zones came refugees on their knees and we said: no, no, no, and no again! Go back home right now, be killed, assaulted, it’s all your own fault for being born here on Earth. The newcomers from Jupiter are tubular like cucumbers, but men, women and children like yourselves aren’t welcome.
And what do refugees from war-torn zones on Earth have to add?These are poems by those who had to escape to safety or move homes for the sake of conflict.
I am Ukraine brought to us by Lesya Bakun, while she was on the run from her home to a place of refuge outside her homeland. Click here to read.
Immigrant’s dream brought to us by Ahmad Al-Khatat, who migrated from Iraq to the West to find sustenance. Click here to read.
In some cases, the wounds lingered and the progeny of those who escaped earlier conflicts give voice to past injuries as well as some immigrants who wandered to find a better life share their experiences.
In 1947, Masha Hassan writes of her grandmother’s plight during the Partition of the Indian Subcontinent. Click here to read.
Birth of an Ally reflects Tamoha Siddiqui’s wonder with new flavours she experiences away from her original homeland. Click here to read.
Two Languages by Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozabal explores linguistic diversity in immigrants. Click here to read.
These could be listed as turns of history that made people relocate.
Red Shirt Hung from a Pine Treeby Ryan Quinn Flanagan takes two issues into account — violence against humanity and colonial displacement of indigenous people — is that migration? Click here to read.
Products of War by Mini Babu talks of the displacement of humanity for war. Click here to read.
Some empathise with those who had to move and write of the trauma faced by refugees.
Migrant Poems by Malachi Edwin Vethamani reflect on migrants and how accepted they feel. Click here to read.
Birds in Flight by A Jessie Michael empathises with the plight of refugees. Click here to read.
The Ceramicist by Jee Leong Koh records the story of a migrant. Click here to read.
And some wonder about the spiritual quest for a homeland… Is it a universal need to be associated with a homeland or can we find a home anywhere on Earth? If we stretch the definition of homeland to all the planet, do we remain refugees or migrants?
Anywhere Particular by Wendy Jean MacLean reflects on the universality of homes — perhaps to an extent on nomadism. Click here to read.
Where is Home? by Shivani Shrivastav meditates on the concept of home. Click here to read.
Sparrows, a poem translated from Korean by the poet — Ihlwha Choi — questions the borders drawn by human laws. Click here to read.
Journey of Hope by Tagore has been translated from Bengali by Mitali Chakravarty. It explores the spiritual quest for a home. Click here to read the poem in English and listen to Tagore’s voice recite his poem in Bengali.
Some look forward to a future — perhaps in another galaxy — post apocalypse.
In Another Galaxy by Masud Khan translated from Bengali by Fakrul Alam wonders at the future of mankind. Click here to read.
And yet others believe in the future of humankind.
We are all Human by Akabar Barakzai, translated from Balochi by Fazal Baloch, is a paean to humanity. Click here to read.
We are all Human
By Akbar Barakzai...
Russia, China and India, Arabs and the New World*, Africa and Europe, The land of the Baloch and Kurds -- Indeed, the whole world is ours. We are all human. We are all human...
In Cherry Blossom Forecast, Suzanne Kamata brings the Japanese ritual of cherry blossom viewing to our pages with her camera and words. Clickhere to read.
Where the mind is without fear … Where the world has not been broken up into fragments … Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way … Where the mind is led forward by thee Into ever-widening thought and action…
As we complete the fourth year of our virtual existence in the clouds and across borders, the world has undergone many changes around us, and it’s not only climate change (which is a huge challenge) but much more. We started around the time of the pandemic — in March 2020 — as human interactions moved from face-to-face non-virtual interactions to virtual communication. When the pandemic ended, we had thought humanity would enter a new age where new etiquettes redefining our social norms would make human existence as pandemic proof as possible. But before we could define new norms in the global context, takeovers and conflicts seem to have reft countries, regions and communities apart. Perhaps, this is a time when Borderless Journalcan give a voice to all those who want to continue living as part of a single species in this world — where we can rise above our differences to find commonalities that make us human and part of the larger stream of humanity, that has been visualised by visionaries like Tagore or John Lennon — widely different cultural milieus but looking for the same things — humankind living together in harmony and moving towards a world without violence, without hate, without rancour and steeped in goodwill and love.
Talking of positive values does not make sense in a world that seems to be veering towards darkness… Many say that humankind is intrinsically given to feelings of anger, hate, division, lust, shame and violence. But then we are just as much inclined towards happiness, fun, love, being respectful and peaceful. Otherwise, would we be writing about these? These are inherited values that have also come down to us from our forefathers and some have been evolving towards embalming or healing with resilience, with kindness and with an open mind.
If you wake up before sunrise, you will notice the sky is really an unredeemable dark. Then, it turns a soft grey till the vibrant colours of the sun paint the horizon and beyond, dousing with not just lively shades but also with a variety of sounds announcing the start of a new day. The darkest hours give way to light. Light is as much a truth as darkness. Both exist. They come in phases in the natural world, and we cannot choose but live with the choices that have been pre-made for us. But there are things we can choose — we can choose to love or hate. We can choose resilience or weakness. We can choose our friends. We can choose our thoughts, our ideas. In Borderless, we have a forum which invites you to choose to be part of a world that has the courage to dream, to imagine. We hope to ignite the torch to carry on this conversation which is probably as old as humanity. We look forward to finding new voices that are willing to move in quest of an impractical world, a utopia, a vision — from which perhaps will emerge systems that will give way to a better future for our progeny.
In the last four years, we are happy to say we have hosted writers from more than forty different nationalities and our readers stretch across almost the whole map of the world. We had our first anthology published less than one and a half years ago, focussing more on writing from established pens. Discussions are afoot to bring out more anthologies in hardcopy with more variety of writers.
In our fourth anniversary issue, we not only host translations by Professor Fakrul Alam of Nazrul, by Somdatta Mandal of Tagore’s father, Debendranath Tagore, but also our first Mandarin translation of a twelfth century Southern Song Dynasty poet, Ye Shao-weng, by Rex Tan, a journalist and writer from Malaysia. From other parts of Asia, Dr Haneef Sharif’s Balochi writing has been rendered into English by Fazal Baloch and Ihlwha Choi has transcreated his own poetry from Korean to English. Tagore’s Phalgun or Spring, describing the current season in Bengal, adds to the variety in our translated oeuvre.
Devraj Singh Kalsi has explored darker shades of humour in his conversation with God while Suzanne Kamata has ushered in the Japanese spring ritual of gazing at cherry blossoms in her column with photographs and narrative. Keith Lyons takes us to the beautiful Fiordlands of New Zealand, Ravi Shankar to Malaysia and Mohul Bhowmick trapezes from place to place in Sri Lanka. Farouk Gulsara has discussed the elusiveness of utopia — an interesting perspective given that we look upto ideals like these in Borderless. I would urge more of you to join this conversation and tell us what you think. We did have Wendy Jones Nakashini start a discussion along these lines in an earlier issue.
I would want to thank our dedicated team from the bottom of my heart. Without them, we could not have brought out two issues within three weeks for we were late with our February issue. A huge thanks to them for their writing and to Sohana Manzoor for her art too. Thanks to our wonderful reviewers who have been with us for a number of years, to all our mentors and contributors without who this journal could not exist. Huge thanks to all our fabulous loyal readers. Devoid of their patronage these words would dangle meaninglessly and unread. Thank you all.
Wish you a wonderful spring as Borderless Journal starts out on the fifth year of its virtual existence! We hope you will be part of our journey throughout…
Enjoy the reads in this special anniversary issue with more content than highlighted here, and each piece is a wonderful addition to our oeuvre!
You've lived your life not knowing That you carry an unpolished gem within. Only after you're gone do we realise That your façade was indeed of a rough stone, Leaving behind the task of gouging the gem. You departed this world as a single, rough stone, Departing to the afterlife, leaving behind rough stones. The world is filled with them. Some are polished to shine bright, Only to become rough stones again. Now is the time to polish that stone, To shape it with hammer and chisel, And seat you in your rightful place. You must quickly extract the gem within For only then will this rough stone Transform into a vibrant spirit in life. How many sleepless nights must be endured, How many days of hardship overcome, To polish the stone you left behind, To complete the unfinished You. Extracting the shining gem within that stone Is the resurrection of Yourself.
Ihlwha Choi is a South Korean poet. He has published multiple poetry collections, such as Until the Time When Our Love will Flourish, The Color of Time, His Song and The Last Rehearsal.
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PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL.
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