Tag: Lucknow

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Contents

Borderless, November 2025

Art by Sohana Manzoor

Editorial

Spring in Winter?… Click here to read.

Translations

Nazrul’s Musafir, Mochh re Aankhi Jol (O wayfarer, wipe your tears) has been translated from Bengali by Professor Fakrul Alam. Click here to read.

Four of his own Malay poems have been translated by Isa Kamari. Click here to read.

Five short poems by Munir Momin have been translated from Balochi by Fazal Baloch. Click here to read.

Five poems by Rohini K.Mukherjee have been translated from Odia by Snehprava Das. Click here to read.

S.Ramakrishnan’s story, Steps of Conscience, has been translated from Tamil by B.Chandramouli. Click here to read.

Tagore’s poem, Sheeth or Winter, has been translated from Bengali by Mitali Chakravarty. Click here to read.

Poetry

Click on the names to read the poems

Ryan Quinn Flanagan, Usha Kishore, Joseph C. Ogbonna, Debadrita Paul, John Valentine, Saranyan BV, Ron Pickett, Shivani Shrivastav, George Freek, Snehaprava Das, William Doreski, Mohit Saini, Rex Tan, John Grey, Raiyan Rashky, Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal

Poets, Poetry & Rhys Hughes

In Nomads of the Bone, Rhys Hughes shares an epic poem. Click here to read.

Musings/Slices from Life

When Nectar Turns Poisonous!

Farouk Gulsara looks at social norms around festive eating. Click here to read.

On a Dark Autumnal Evening

Ahmad Rayees muses on Kashmir and its inhabitants. Click here to read.

The Final Voyage

Meredith Stephens writes of her experience of a disaster while docking their boat along the Australian coastline. Click here to read.

Embracing the Earth and Sky…

Prithvijeet Sinha takes us to the tomb of Saadat Ali Khan in Lucknow. Click here to read.

Musings of a Copywriter

In A Fruit Seller in My Life, Devraj Singh Kalsi explores the marketing skills of his fruit seller a pinch of humour. Click here to read.

Notes from Japan

In Return to Naoshima, Suzanne Kamata takes us to an island museum. Click here to read.

Essays

The Trouble with Cioran

Satyarth Pandita introduces us to Emil Cioran, a twentieth century philosopher. Click here to read.

Once a Student — Once a Teacher

Odbayar Dorj writes of celebrating the start of the new school year in Mongolia and of their festivals around teaching and learning. Click here to read.

Bhaskar’s Corner

In ‘Language… is a mirror of our moral imagination’, Bhaskar Parichha pays a tribute to Prof. Sarbeswar Das. Click here to read.

Stories

Visions

Fabiana Elisa Martínez takes us to Argentina. Click here to read.

My Grandmother’s Guests

Priyanjana Pramanik shares a humorous sketch of a nonagenarian. Click here to read.

After the Gherkin

Deborah Blenkhorn relates a tongue-in-cheek story about a supposed crime. Click here to read.

Pause for the Soul

Sreenath Nagireddy writes of migrant displacement and adjustment. Click here to read.

The Real Enemy 

Naramsetti  Umamaheswararao gives a story set in a village in Andhra Pradesh. Click here to read.

Feature

A conversation with Amina Rahman, owner of Bookworm Bookshop, Dhaka, about her journey from the corporate world to the making of her bookstore with a focus on community building. Click here to read.

Book Excerpts

An excerpt from from Love and Crime in the Time of Plague: A Bombay Mystery by Anuradha Kumar. Click here to read.

An excerpt from Wayne F Burke’s Theodore Dreiser – The Giant. Click here to read.

Book Reviews

Somdatta Mandal reviews M.A.Aldrich’s Old Lhasa: A Biography. Click here to read.

Satya Narayan Misra reviews Amal Allana’s Ebrahim Alkazi: Holding Time Captive. Click here to read.

Anita Balakrishnan reviews Silver Years: Senior Contemporary Indian Women’s Poetry edited by Sanjukta Dasgupta, Malashri Lal and Anita Nahal. Click here to read.

Bhaskar Parichha reviews Diya Gupta’s India in the Second World War: An Emotional History. Click here to read.

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

Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Amazon International

Categories
Slices from Life

Embracing the Earth and Sky…

By Prithvijeet Sinha

Saadat Ali Khan’s tomb. Photo Courtesy: Prithvijeet Sinha

In Lucknow, there’s a peculiar yet quintessential fascination with preserving the dead, ensuring that monuments to revere them are not only easy on the eyes but also constructed with a certain soulfulness. The sublime, inevitable poetry of mortality is hence the reason why multiple Imambaras and Maqbaras (resting places and tombs) eulogise the architects of a region that led the charge by invigorating secularism, architecture and employment to the masses.

The stunning Saadat Ali Khan tomb testifies to all these features with poignant grace till this present era. Built by Ghazi-ud-Din Haider, the crowned King of Awadh in the early years of the 19th century in memory of his father, the eponymous Nawab Wazir of Awadh, Saadat Ali Khan, it was a palace of refined craftsmanship that took on the sombre hues of remembrance and eternal memory by being rebuilt as a tomb. Such is the fervour of familial legacies. Those eternal memories of wives and children now rest in the vaults that have been preserved in the inner chamber of the structure in its rear end.

On his part, Ghazi-ud-Din Haider (1769-1827) was a man of poise and taste. But he was also operating at a time when colonial powers were shareholders of Awadh as much as any other part of the country. Being a ruler may have been as much a nominal position for him as it was for his father, Yameen-ud Daula Saadat Ali Khan II Bahadur (1752 – 1814). But they both walked on common ground as they ensured that administrative duties fuelled by colonial interests didn’t usurp the spirit of their homeland. Lucknow was much more to Ghazi-ud-Din Haider and his father than just a city. Hence, their architectural aesthetics came into play to build a monumental legacy. If father Saadat Ali Khan was the mind who gave Lucknow a large number of memorable monuments between the city’s fabled Kaiserbagh and Dilkusha corridor then son Ghazi was no flash in the pan himself. The majestic Chattar Manzil, the quietly captivating Vilayati Bagh (built in memory of his beloved English wife Mary Short/ Padshah Begum) and the impressive Shah Najaf Imambara (modelled after the holy Shia site of Najaf in Iran) are all beholden to his vision. They all occupy pivotal central areas of the city today and are a visitors’ delight. He was also the pioneer behind a printing press, employing English and local scholars who were versed in multiple languages and enriched his court with the compilation of an extensive Persian dictionary.

Saadat Ali Khan’s Tomb extends his legacy, it’s a stunning architectural design of a palace turned resting place for dearly departed retaining Lucknow’s exquisite stamp. The magnificent dome, arches, unbridled calligraphy of designs, decorative motifs and the pillars echo with two hundred years and more of all that the structure represents. The distinctive wash of yellow, brown and sometimes bleached lemon in the building are all captivating to discerning eyes. Under this dome and the parapets, one walks in circles and picks up the nuances of beauty that surround it. Chief among them being huge windows framed with nets, galloping squirrels and various potted plants covering the expanse.

Even more wonderful is the tomb of Mursheer Zadi, Saadat Ali Khan’s beloved wife, that stands parallel to his tomb. With its similarly constructed structure and darker tones, the confluence of dome, spires, parapets, inner chamber and decorative motifs become breathtaking. If the morning reveals these structures as enchanting dual partners, afternoons suffuse them with a time-honoured glow while the evenings bathe them with shades of devotion to this cityscape.

Visitors people the verandahs that surround it. At the Saadat Ali Khan Tomb and Garden, we relive the permanence of smiling flowers, the majestic architecture and the surreal power of its mystique. It’s a structure that seems to literally rise out of the earth and court the sky in reverence to both. We, in turn, understand its juxtapositions of mortality and muted grandeur as die-hard Lucknawis.

Photo Courtesy: Prithvijeet Sinha

As scaffolds populate the tombs and restoration work ensures more renewed glint for its overall structure in the new year as also for its neighbouring Chattar Manzil, this site becomes the classical storyteller it has always been. Its saga is continuous, eternal. Its haunting understories are as soaked in legends and myths as is the wonderful city of Lucknow. The dead don’t just rest in peace here, they converse in whispers that become the wind and birdcalls.

Photo Courtesy: Prithvijeet Sinha

Prithvijeet Sinha  is an MPhil from the University of Lucknow, having launched his prolific writing career by self-publishing on the worldwide community Wattpad since 2015 and on his WordPress blog An Awadh Boy’s Panorama. Besides that, his works have been published in several journals and anthologies. 

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
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

borderlessjournal.com

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CLICK HERE TO ACCESS THE CONTENTS FOR THE SEPTEMBER 2025 ISSUE

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READ THE LATEST UPDATES ON THE FIRST BORDERLESS ANTHOLOGY, MONALISA NO LONGER SMILES, BY CLICKING ON THIS LINK.

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Musings

Bibapur Mansion: A Vintage Charmer

By Prithvijeet Sinha

Photos of Bibiapur Mansion by Prithivijeet Sinha

Writing about Lucknow’s fabled monuments has set me free to regurgitate images and feelings (‘ehsaas‘ as the Urdu equivalent goes) that call for effusive recollections. When the praxis of location and travel stand side by side, words flow out of the material foundations of structures that court our instant awe. Another fabled monument that rewrites the architectural-historical continuum of Awadh in that admirable vein is Bibiapur Kothi (Mansion); there’s just something sturdy about its presence in one of the most beautifully quiet corners of the cityscape.

Blessed by the legendary aesthetic choices of Nawab Asaf-ud-Daula, one of the most prominent architects of Lucknow, and built by architect Antoine Polier and his dedicated team in the latter part of the 18th Century, Bibiapur Kothi is a vision of grandeur. Legend has it that it was a favourite country retreat for the Nawabs as well as a centre for another arcane ritual from the past — hunting.

Like it always happens, visiting this site is like opening a door and entering the mystifying corridors of a past that can never be replicated. The neo-classical architectural style itself is easy on the eyes as spacious arches, halls, high roofs and round pillars — hypnotic ballasts of extreme strength – mesmerize the visitor. An enchanting spiral staircase divides this space into two storeys while the halls and Greek columns, beautifying its iconic exteriors, make us hark back to the glory days of interracial socialization that prevailed here. Lakhauri[1]betweenbricks and majestic stones’ sturdy network further arrests our undivided attention.

Imagine the masked balls, coronations (such as that of Saadat Ali Khan as the legend goes) and exquisite mehfils (musical/ poetic congregations) marked this mansion and its prominence for both for the native and colonial understanding of Awadh’s sensibilities, particularly Lucknow as the harbinger of urban sophistication.

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Even for a modern traveller who can visualise yesteryears’ customs and etiquettes, the place is like a replica for the way the people lived and loved the essence of Lucknow. One can hear the hooves of equestrian sentinels guiding elaborate carriages, imagine a nawab reminiscing of a beloved while beholding the moon from the second floor and guests spread out under these roofs and occupying the hall, deep in conversations that could make or break the cultural sphere of influence tied intimately to regional politics. So, it’s natural that the more credulous storytellers still believe in this space holding fort for ghostly travellers who, it seems, just can’t escape the thrilling sensibilities of this particular realm.

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Bibiapur Mansion is a visual delight. Its current locational axis generates awe for discerning visitors. Today, one has to take a straight drive from the Dilkusha corridor and nestled within the cantonment area beyond an old railway line is this architectural wonder. An army sentry guides us further as we enter the gateway and a world of trees, vegetation, cricket’s unified whispers, quarters and a granary beholden to the cantonment board fall in the pathway. Everything has old-world charm. The passage invites to the visitor like a transcendent experience. Surrounded by ancient trees, some with beautiful forms and thickets relaying the permanence of this area’s timelessness, is this fabled monument.

Sunlight lights up its walls and every now and then a langur(monkey) sprawling his long tail stands guard over the gates. The staircases, spacious compound, arched entryway and the glory of the Greek columns touched by the inimitable mix of lakhauri and current-day refurbishments awe us.

Here at Bibiapur Mansion, everything has a presence. Everything is accessible and iconic. In the absence of noise and marked by surfeits of wonder, we travel to the past while celebrating the immediate moments that brought us to this place.

Here, History and Wonder never sleep for long. Rather they awaken a new sentience.

Photograph by Prithvijeet Sinha

[1]Lime paint and plaster

Prithvijeet Sinha  is an MPhil from the University of Lucknow, having launched his prolific writing career by self-publishing on the worldwide community Wattpad since 2015 and on his WordPress blog An Awadh Boy’s Panorama. Besides that, his works have been published in several journals and anthologies. 

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
Poetry

…The Last Blossoms Of Warm Sunlight…

Title: A Verdant Heart

Author: Prithvijeet Sinha

Publisher: Bookleaf Publishing

AN EVENING
(In the Countryside)

The dusk
has run away
from dark orphanages. 

Families of 'saal'
cover the forest
with abundance 
just like the river's 
bouyant currents 
guide the Grand Boat
ahead.

The last blossoms 
of warm sunlight 
emerge from among 
those trees 
and now 
circumambulate
the farmlands.

***

Oh
medicine-takers!

Come here!
The winds are not fidgety here.
Greet them unhesitantly. 

***

Gather around here.

The tasteful smell 
of curries coming 
from the maternal homestead 
has turned this evening 
into a dominion 
of delectable flavours. 

Tell sleep 
to resist. 

On your feathery shirt
hung on the clothesline,
something intangible occurs. 
Watch
how the moonlight 
sews its torn parts. 

Those particles 
filled with voluminous light
will now dispatch 
a night's worth of beauty 
for the days to come.

YAARA*

As the alumni sneer,
we revisit
the green
mausoleum 
for the second time
today.

A pup
on our trail,
giving curls 
of sound
and rearing
his curiosity 
at the edge of our
hips. 
He has no
problem with
making new friends. 

He isn't born of scandal 
or frenzy. 
Which is why 
he sits like a monk
and watches us 
place 
a ring of 
flowers
on the mausoleum's
palms. 

   ***

Somebody loved 
the one
who came
with the sun. 

Someone too 
put flowers 
in the name
of a beloved
here. 

Someone 
once 
let another
little pup
from this bygone land
trail them
because he
understood 
the meaning of love. 

Today,
it's what we 
understand. 

The little pup
sits at the mausoleum's gate
and
shakes his tail. 
We call him
Yaara. 

Our day 
starts here. 

*Yaara means friend in colloquial Hindi

I'VE GIVEN PEACE A CHANCE 

The vast interiors of 
my beloved cat's eyes,
yellow and green
the soundwaves of her
love song
and the primary softness
of her body
 beget
time,
stilled to a superior 
attachment to the little hours 
where she adjusts 
her gaze
with an unaccustomed 
earth. 

The chances of her surviving this world 
are greater
on an everyday basis. 
The holdovers 
of rage and diffidence 
are like indistinct clouds 
that pass in the sky
before her wide eyes.

I had never known 
such stillness 
in my life. 
I had never known 
the comfort
and balance 
of a creature 
who lets
indivisible days
and the lazy 
minutes after two o'clock 
become like marmalade 
spread out in an 
open jar,
liable to be tasted
and profoundly savoured. 

***

I've given peace a chance
without accusing myself
of being distanced from her. 
She now guides me to sleep,
placing her paws on my chest 
and breathing with me.

Because of her,
an unaccustomed earth 
has finally begun to 
share its mysteries 
of comfort, rest 
and acceptance 
 with me.

BRANCHES 

The branches were taut as an arrow
 or directly ploughing the air with arms shaped like pitchforks.
They could never envision 
the violence of our world. 

In a farm next to this foliage
tailored by someone with superb skills, 
bearing a village's heartland and the phonetics of air,
were a farmer and his cows.
They were singing, without 
words,
the last notes
of an agrarian song.

***

No animals rustled.
But three teenage lads 
took care at this time
of the evening.
They asked me my name.

One of them
gave me a good smile.
He was the countryside's
rising sun.
He said the river 
was just an ordinary string of water now.

The call for prayer came 
when he put his arms
around his friends' shoulders. 

Shoulder to shoulder 
they walked 
but the river didn't end.
Similarly,
that evening of amity 
and fulfillment 
didn't end for them.
All evenings 
are theirs 
for this devotion 
to each other.

The branches sway.
Moths dance 
unabashedly around them
and little mosquitoes hum like theremins.
Long may this countryside live
with them
and the three lads.

About the Book: A Verdant Heart is a collection of soul-songs that captures Nature in its full diversity of expressions and experiences, tilting its omnipotence on diurnal human lives. It is a labour of love and a poignant reflection on the poetic lens that allows mortal beings the freedom to observe and commit to creativity.

About the Author: Prithvijeet Sinha, a resident of the cultural epicenter that is Lucknow, India. His prolific published credits encompass poetry, musings on the city, cinema, anthologies, journals with national and international repertoires as well as a blog ( https://anawadhboyspanorama.wordpress.com/). His life-force resides in writing, in the art of self-expression.

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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
Editorial

‘…I write from my heart of the raging tempest…’

New buildings almost growing out of old in Rome 
I can see the heartbreak, 
    Hear the wailing, the awakening, 
          I write from my heart
          Of the raging tempest. 

— Translation of Probhatey or ‘In the Morning’ by Rabindranath Tagore (1906)

All around us, we hear of disasters. Often, we try to write of these as Tagore seems to do in the above lines. However, these lines follow after he says he draws solace and inspiration from a ‘serene lotus’, pristine and shining with vibrancy. He gazes at it while looking for that still point which helps him create an impact with words. That is perhaps what we can hope to do too — wait for a morning where clarity will show us the path to express not just what we see, but to find a way to heal and help. Finding parallels in great writings of yore to our own attempts at recreating the present makes us realise that perhaps history is cyclical. In Rome, new structures rear up against thousand-year walls, reflecting how the past congeals into the present.

Congealing the past into our present in this July’s issue are stories of American migrants — like Tom Alter’s family who made India their home — by Anuradha Kumar in her new non-fiction Wanderers, Adventurers, Missionaries: Early Americans in India. We feature this book with a review and an interview with the author where she tells us how and why she chose to write on these people. We have more people writing of their own wanderings. Mohul Bhowmick wanders into Cambodia and makes friends over a local sport while Prithvijeet Sinha strolls by the banks of the River Gomti in Lucknow. Meredith Stephens not only takes us to the Prime Meridien in Greenwich but also to Carnarvon which houses a science and technology centre in Australia. Devraj Singh Kalsi wanders with humour to discover gastronomical inspiration and hopes for sweeter recompense.

The dialogue started by Professor Fakrul Alam on libraries earlier with his essay and by Kalsi (with a pinch of humour) has been continued by Odbayar Dorj. She talks of the fading culture of libraries in Mongolia, her home country, and the vibrant culture that has blossomed in Japan. Suzanne Kamata writes of the rituals of summer holidays in Japan… including looking after a pet dung beetles.

Farouk Gulsara muses on ‘greatness’ as a concept with irony. Aparajita De muses on the word serendipity, applying it to her own situation while Ratnottama Sengupta muses on her encounter with the writings of eminent cover artist and writer who is not only a recipient of the Bangla Academy literary award but also immensely popular with children, Dhruba Esh, and translates one his many stories from Bengali.

In translations, Professor Alam has brought to us a beautiful poem by Jibanananda Das. Karim Drashti’s Balochi short poems have been rendered in English by Fazal Baloch and Snehaprava Das has found for us Odia poems of Sangram Jena in translation. Ihlwha Choi has rendered his own Korean poem to English while Tagore’s poem, ‘Probhatey (In the Morning)’ winds up the poetry in this section. We have more in prose — Surya Dhananjay’s story, Mastan Anna, translated from Telugu by Rahimanuddin Shaik.

In fiction, we have stories from around the world. Paul Mirabile sets his story in Burgaz. Spandan Upadhyay gives a mysterious narrative set in a world outside our waking consciousness and Vidya Hariharan gives us a glimpse of life in modern day India. From Bangladesh, Md Mujib Ullah writes a short cli-fi based on real life events.

Taking up the theme of cli-fi, Rajat Chaudhuri’s Wonder Tales for a Warming Planet seems to bring hope by suggesting adapting to changing climes. Rakhi Dalal tells us in her review: “It dares to approach the climate crisis through the lens of empathy and imagination rather than panic or guilt. In doing so, Rajat Chaudhuri gives us what many adult climate narratives fail to deliver—a reason to believe that another world is not only possible but already being imagined by the young. All we need to do is listen.” Bhaskar Parichha has discussed the autobiography of a meteorologist and Distinguished University Professor at George Mason University, Jagadish Shukla. In A Billion Butterflies: A Life in Climate and Chaos Theory, he claims Shukla has “revolutionised monsoon forecasting.” Somdatta Mandal has written about Dilip K Das’s Epidemic Narratives: The Cultural Construction of Infectious Disease Outbreaks in India. And Gower Bhat reviews Neha Bansal’s best-selling poetry collection, Six of Cups.

Poetry awakens myriad of hues in Borderless with verses from across the world. We have poems from Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal, Ryan Quinn Flangan, Snehprava Das, George Freek, Laila Brahmbhatt, Tracy Lee Duffy, Amarthya Chandar, Jason Ryberg, Momina Raza, Shahriyer Hossain Shetu and more. Snigdha Agrawal gives a fun-filled poem about a duck and Rhys Hughes has given us a collection of verses like puzzles where we need to guess the animals! We also have an excerpt from Hughes’ The Eleventh Commandment And Other Very Short Fictions and Das’s short stories, Keep It Secret.

With that, we wind up the contents of this month’s issue. Do pause by our content’s page to check it out in more details.

This month’s edition would not have been possible without all our contributors, our fabulous team and especially Sohana Manzoor’s artwork. Huge thanks to all of them and to our wonderful readers who make it worthwhile for us to write and publish. Do write in to us if you have any feedback. Five years ago, we chose to become a monthly from a daily… We have come a long way from then and grown to host writers from more than forty countries and readers from almost all over the world. For this, we owe you all – for being with us and encouraging us to find fresh pastures.

Enjoy the reads!

Wishing you peace and happiness,

Mitali Chakravarty,

borderlessjournal.com

Click here to access the contents for the July 2025 Issue

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Musings

By the Banks of the Beautiful Gomti…

Prithvijeet Sinha muses…with his narrative and his camera

The chronology of monuments and historical continuum in Lucknow are affixed to the Nawabi realm, tales of opulence and benevolence or narratives that pivot around the First War of Independence in 1857 and its enduring imprints. All of these features mark the city. But they can also become dog-eared markers and signifiers that can prevent one from looking at modern marvels.

That being said, the most serene corner of Lucknow has yet to complete a full decade of its existence but has already become an indispensable part of the cityscape buoyed by nature and beautiful landscaping. For if mortal hands gave shape to beautiful, everlasting monuments of Awadh, modern visions have given the city the Gomti Riverfront Park.

Situated at the heart of the city just before unveiling the expanse of Gomti Nagar and intersected by Hazratganj and Cantonment on its primary stretch, it complements the River Gomti’s function as the city’s lifeline with remarkable fervour. It is easily accessible and is a personification of the natural beauty that Lucknow exemplifies for millions. In fact, in the current day and age, it serves as a common unifier for those many faces who visit it for leisure or as regular joggers, walkers and wanderers.

It has consistently maintained its pruned gardens, verdant slopes leading to its open avenues and the trees and plants cover this stretch. It’s not just about the idea of exemplary maintenance, the river is near some classical monuments facing it such as the Ambedkar Park, the majestic La Martiniere Boys College and the gorgeous Dilkusha Bridge. All this is already set in motion as rolling fountains, little dome-shaped pavilions serving as seating spaces and the red stone walls on its upper reaches welcome the visitor.

On a deeply personal level, Gomti Riverfront Park has something that leaves one swooning. It’s about the way the gardens are spread out, the song of the sparrows that can often be spotted here on some rare occasions and how the gulmohars shed their red flowers, leaving footprints of earthly vermilion as one takes a reprieve and beholds mynas with miles of yellow eyeline perched atop navy-blue lamps navigating left and right.

On many mornings in monsoon, I have been saved by the protection of the trees here and tasted the rain on my tongue. I have watched sprinklers rise like a spray of rejuvenation on the grass as a pretty wooden seat or those painted in green look on. I have seen joggers initiating a tryst with good health here, cyclists enjoy the joy evinced by these stretches and others practicing yoga to the soundtrack of birdsongs and rustling winds. I have felt myself breaking free from mundane rhythms and anxieties while traversing its meaningful miles and have composed many pivotal poems inspired by its imagery hence solidifying my omnibus of individuality in conjunction with the cityscape.

The Riverfront Park gives silence and tranquil charms in droves and moves far away from the urban bustle so that the green cover and unrestricted steps stretching all the way to the fabled Dilkusha Bridge dispenses with the conventional crowds and makes one experience true serenity.

There are many landmarks like Bibiapur Mansion, Vilayati Bagh a little far ahead. So, history wraps it all around but never to smother its unique identity. Marking the riverfront as a hub of activity and interior space for soaking nature’s humble bounties, this park has so much to offer all at once.  It marks the chronology of water and its neighbourhood of riches in the heart of Lucknow.

Prithvijeet Sinha  is an MPhil from the University of Lucknow, having launched his prolific writing career by self-publishing on the worldwide community Wattpad since 2015 and on his WordPress blog An Awadh Boy’s Panorama. Besides that, his works have been published in several journals and anthologies. 

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, June 2025

Art by Sohana Manzoor

Editorial

‘How do you rebuild a life when all that remains is dust?’… Click here to read.

Translations

The Great War is Over and A Nobody by Jibanananda Das have been translated from Bengali by Professor Fakrul Alam. Click here to read.

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

 Five poems by Soubhagyabanta Maharana  have been translated from Odia by Snehaprava Das. Click here to read.

Animate Debris, a poem by Sangita Swechcha has been translated from Nepali by Saudamini Chalise. Click here to read.

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

Sonar Tori (Golden Boat), a poem by Tagore, has been translated from Bengali by Mitali Chakravarty. Click here to read.

Poetry

Click on the names to read the poems

Allan Lake, Shobha Tharoor Srinivasan, Ron Pickett, Ananya Sarkar, George Freek, Bibhuti Narayan Biswal, Jim Bellamy, Pramod Rastogi, Vern Fein, Saranyan BV, Ryan Quinn Flanagan, Juairia Hossain, Gautham Pradeep, Jenny Middleton, Mandavi Choudhary, Rhys Hughes

Musings/Slices from Life

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.

Hope Lies Buried in Eternity

Farouk Gulsara muses on hope. Click here to read.

Undertourism in the Outback

Merdith Stephens writes from the Australian Outback with photographs from Alan Nobel. Click here to read.

Musings of a Copywriter

In Driving with Devraj, Devraj Singh Kalsi writes of his driving lessons. Click here to read.

Notes from Japan

In The Tent, Suzanne Kamata visits crimes and safety. Click here to read.

Essays

Public Intellectuals Walked, So Influencers Could Run

Lopamudra Nayak explores changing trends. Click here to read.

Where No One Wins or Loses a War…From Lucknow with Love

Prithvijeet Sinha takes us to a palace of a European begum in Lucknow. Click here to read.

Bhaskar’s Corner

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

Feature

The story of Hawakal Publishers, based on a face-to-face tête-à-tête, and an online conversation with founder Bitan Chakraborty with his responses in Bengali translated by Kiriti Sengupta. Click here to read.

Stories

The Year the Fireflies Didn’t Come Back

Leishilembi Terem gives a poignant story set in conflict-ridden Manipur. Click here to read.

The Stranger

Jeena R. Papaadi writes of the vagaries of human relationships. Click here to read.

The Opening

Naramsetti Umamaheswararao relates a value based story in a small hamlet of southern India. Click here to read.

Book Excerpts

An excerpt from Wendy Doniger’s The Cave of Echoes: Stories about Gods, Animals and Other Strangers. Click here to read.

An excerpt from Mohua Chinappa’s Thorns in My Quilt: Letters from a Daughter to Her Father. Click here to read.

Book Reviews

Somdatta Mandal reviews Madhurima Vidyarthi’s Job Charnock and the Potter’s Boy. Click here to read.

Rakhi Dalal reviews Dhruba Hazarika’s The Shoot: Stories. Click here to read.

Satya Narayan Misra reviews Bakhtiyar K Dadabhoy’s Honest John – A Life of John Matthai. Click here to read.

Bhaskar Parichha reviews David C Engerman’s Apostles of Development: Six Economists and the World They Made. Click here to read.

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

Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Amazon International

Categories
Essay

Where No One Wins or Loses a War…From Lucknow with Love

Narratives and photographs by Prithvijeet Sinha

Talking about Vilayati Bagh as being an isolated cousin among the many gardens and monuments of Lucknow would be feasible given its elusive nature. I say elusive because it is nestled in the lush environs of the cantonment area and forested canopy that lies ahead of Dilkusha Palace which is one of the city’s many frequently visited wonders. Within this canopy lies Vilayati Bagh, “Vilayati”(foreign) referring in no small terms to not only a colonial past but also the stark fact that it is home to three tombs of erstwhile British officers who perished in the high noons of 1857’s First War of Independence. It was only a year ago that I, myself, had the opportunity to go there for the very first time. But that March morning changed everything. I have been there twice already to revel in its tranquility.

Its history is quite like other gardens and leisure spots of Awadh. It was built in the earlier parts of 19th Century by Ghazi Ud-Din Haider[1], the Nawab of Awadh, as a gift for his beloved European consort. During the revolt of 1857, it fell prey to shellings and other bombardments. But like most of Lucknow’s quintessential monuments, the spirit of renaissance did not elude it for long. In the present day, it is still tucked away in its quiet corner, slumbering and awakening for discerning eyes (and minds) who go there to capture crucial echoes of its unique identity.

Flanked by the Gomti close by and a cemetery in the middle of a spacious compound, the property begins its enchanting passage as one takes a straight drive (or walk) from Dilkusha Palace, approaches Kendriya Vidyalaya and then continues to move ahead to encounter a railway crossing, opposite which lies the cantonment granary, quarters and the grand and haunting Bibiapur Kothi. Taking a left turn from that location brings one to the verdure of old, huge trees, a moderately spacious road and pleasant sounds of cicadas and birds. In this pithy journey to Vilayati Bagh, the feeling of time-traveling to a gracious era of architectural elegance comes into sight the moment we reach its immediate premises. A beautiful Sufi dargah bathed in impressive green lies on the left and a few moderate homes of those who probably maintain this compound meet us.

Then the real journey begins. A sophisticated sense of the building blocks of this elusive garden are elucidated by its brown- yellow, almost auburn walls. The lakhauri[2] paint and plaster give it luster on a sunny day. These ramparts retain their history of age, war and past reckonings. Yet it’s the sun that designs their colour schemes in the most sublime shades.  Archeological Survey of India has restored its lost glory in recent years and the result is there for all to see.

The boundary walls have a sturdy presence and are enclosed by arrow-shaped iron structures painted in pleasant brown. As one explores the interiors of the garden compound, little monoliths, corrugated outer flanks that look like barracks emerge, the exposed bricks red and pink in their sublimity of skin tones. A Y-shaped drain also flanks them. There is an aura of extraordinary peace all around. This isn’t meant to be a tourist spot. This is the one for aesthetes and true aficionados of history. The mind wanders and is arrested by trees whose branches are shaped like pitchforks.

A dargah (miniature Sufi shrine) greets one at the outer end of the compound while a majestic gulmohar tree seems to appear like a tall fellow wearing red scarves. Arches and domes subsist in this sturdy network of walls.

The saga of Vilayati Bagh is one of beauty but the starkness of its melancholy is evident in the cemeteries that lie in a little distance from the main gateway. They belong to fallen English soldiers Henry P. Garvey, Captain W. Helley Hutchinson and Sergeant S. Newman. These tombs are made in the image of a wide basin, crypts depicting that no one side can win or lose a war. Everybody has formidable stakes, and the dead don’t preach the gospel of victory or sombre defeat. Flanking these resting places are miniature pavilions with domes; they are surrounded by white rectangles made from cloth supported by twigs — sobering symbols of lives lost and the unpredictable designations of mortality.

Despite this unique mixture of melancholy and beauty, sobriety reigns. Of course, the obvious euphoria of discovery overrides every other emotion. Lucknow is a city that lives and breathes in such possibilities where a monument or elusive corner of its expanse can prompt an awakening for its discerning residents. Going further than the limitations imposed by acquired knowledge is always a source of deeper reckoning. This garden that houses nature and ghosts of mortality in its inner sanctum gives me another reason to keep my curiosity intact.

[1] Ghazi-ud-Din Haidar Shah (1769-1827), The first King of Oudh and the last Nawab Wazir of Oudh. He started a line of kingship which ended with the exile of Wajid Ali Shah(1822-1887).

[2] Traditional natural ingredients, often dyes or pastes from plants, used for coating buildings in Lucknow

Prithvijeet Sinha  is an MPhil from the University of Lucknow, having launched his prolific writing career by self-publishing on the worldwide community Wattpad since 2015 and on his WordPress blog An Awadh Boy’s Panorama. Besides that, his works have been published in several journals and anthologies. 

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, May 2025

Art by Sohana Manzoor

Editorial

“Imagine all the people/ Living life in peace”… Click here to read.

Translations

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.

Arise O Woman and Two Flowers on One Leafstalk, lyrics by Nazrul, have been translated from Bengali by Professor Fakrul Alam. Click here to read.

Five poems by Bipin Nayak have been translated from Odia by Snehaprava Das. Click here to read.

Identity by Munir Momin has been translated from Balochi by Fazal Baloch. Click here to read.

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

Asha or Hope by Tagore has been translated from Bengali by Mitali Chakravarty. Click here to read.

Poetry

Click on the names to read the poems

Ryan Quinn Flangan, Jim Bellamy, Snehprava Das, George Freek, Niranjan Aditya, Christine Belandres, Ajeeti S, Ron Pickett, Kajoli Krishnan, Stuart McFarlane, Snigdha Agrawal, Arthur Neong, Elizabeth Anne Pereira, Rhys Hughes

Poets, Poetry & Rhys Hughes

In Did He Ever?, Rhys Hughes gives fun-filled verses on Lafcadio Hearn, a bridge between the East and West from more than a hundred years ago. Click here to read.

Musings/ Slices from Life

Will Dire Wolves Stalk Streets?

Farouk Gulsara writes of genetic engineering. Click here to read.

The Boy at the Albany Bus Stop

Meredith Stephens dwells on the commonality of human emotions. 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.

Social Media Repetition

Jun A. Alindogan discusses the relevance of social media. Click here to read.

Shanghai in Jakarta

Eshana Sarah Singh takes us to Chinese New Year celebrations in Djakarta. Click here to read.

Musings of a Copywriter

In My Writing Desk, Devraj Singh Kalsi writes of the source of his inspiration. Click here to read.

Notes from Japan

In Feeling Anxious in Happy Village, Suzanne Kamata relates a heartwarming story. Click here to read.

Essays

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.

This Garden Calls Out to Me: A Flaneur in Lucknow’s Sikandar Bagh

Prithvijeet Sinha takes us back to a historical landmark, made for love but bloodied by war. Click here to read.

Stories

Going to Meet the Hoppers

Fiona Sinclair writes a layered story on human perspectives. Click here to read.

The Ritual of Change

Parnika Shirwaikar explores the acceptance of change. Click here to read.

The Last Metro

Spandan Upadhyay explores the spirit of the city of Kolkata. Click here to read.

Nico Finds His Dream

Paul Mirabile narrates how young Nico uncovers his own yearnings. Click here to read.

The Bequest

Naramsetti Umamaheswararao gives a story reflecting a child’s lessons from Nature. Click here to read.

Conversation

Ratnottama Sengupta introduces and converses with photographer, Vijay S Jodha. Click here to read.

Book Excerpts

An excerpt from Devabrata Das’s One More Story About Climbing a Hill: Stories from Assam, translated by multiple translators from Assamese. Click here to read.

An excerpt from Ryan Quinn Flangan’s Ghosting My Way into the Afterlife. Click here to read.

Book Reviews

Somdatta Mandal reviews Arundhathi Nath‘s translation, The Phantom’s Howl: Classic Tales of Ghosts and Hauntings from Bengal. Click here to read.

Andreas Giesbert reviews Rhys Hughes’ The Devil’s Halo. Click here to read.

Bhaskar Parichha reviews Aubrey Menen’s A Stranger in Three Worlds: The Memoirs of Aubrey Menen. Click here to read.

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

Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Amazon International