Categories
Contents

Borderless, September 2026

Art by Sohana Manzoor

Editorial

Because We Are… …Click here to read.

Translations

Nazrul’s lyrics of Mor Ghumogore Elo Monohor (In my sleep, came the one who won my heart) have been translated from Bengali by Professor Fakrul Alam. Click here to read.

Chapter 2 of Isa Kamari’s novel, The Throne, has been translated by the author from Malay. We will be running the whole novel as serial through the year. Click here to read.

A Tiny Piece of Homeland, an autobiographical narrative by Kallol Lahiri in Bengali, has been translated by V. Ramaswamy. Click here to read.

Walking Together, a poem, has been written and translated from Korean by Ihlwha Choi. Click here to read.

Swopno (Dream), 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

Mary Pomfret, Ananya S Guha, Jim Bellamy, Veerashetty Aurad, George Freek, T. Manjunath, Ron Pickett, Hassan Ismail Adekunle, SR Inciardi, Subramaniam Cheemalapati, John Zedolik, Shazia Khatoon, Richard D. Houff, Ryan Quinn Flanagan

Poets, Poetry & Rhys Hughes

In Emily’s Ghost, Rhys Hughes gives us an elusive story poem. Click here to read.

Musings/ Slices from Life

Switching Sails for Saddles

Meredith Stephens writes of a camel ride in Australia with photographs by Alan Noble. Click here to read.

We Come with Nothing…

Farouk Gulsara muses on the importance of getting rid of belongings collected over time. Click here to read.

Anchors

Shruti Keskar responds to changes in her life. Click here to read.

Musings of a Copywriter

In  Art, Artist & a Copywriter , Devraj Singh Kalsi visits an art museum. Click here to read.

Essays

Kazi Nazrul Islam: Bringing the Ghazal Home

Shantanu Ray Chaudhuri shows how cultures can intermingle to enrich and create a unique fusion as in Nazrul’s lyrics and style. Click here to read.

Harmonising a Symphony

Yatish Kumar S explores what One World means to him. Click here to read.

Rise, You Magnificent Mess

Charudutta Panigrahi writes with the hope of transcending the darknesses of our times. Click here to read.

Stories

Small Town Journal Entry: The Red Wagon and Red Robin

Jonathon Ferrini tells a poignant story about a child and an injured bird. Click here to read.

The Weight She Carries

Gowher Bhat brings a vignette of a young girl’s life in the hills of Kokernag. Click here to read.

A Family Wedding

Fiona Sinclair writes of family interactions during a wedding. Click here to read.

A Clever Verdict

Naramsetti Umamaheswara Rao gives a story set in Southern India. Click here to read.

Feature

A conversation with Kanupriya Dhingra with a brief introduction to her book, The Sunday Book Bazaar: Delhi’s Book Street and the Making of a Reading Public. Click here to read.

Book Excerpts

An excerpt from Teresa Rehman’s Her Hajj Story: Travel Diaries of Women Pilgrims from Assam. Click here to read.

An excerpt from Shubha Apte’s When the Road Becomes the Teacher. Click here to read.

Book Reviews

Somdatta Mandal reviews Omair Ahmad’s Homecoming. Click here to read.

Mudassar Javed Baryar reviews Saima Begum’s The First Jasmines. Click here to read.

Meenakshi Malhotra reviews Romila Thapar’s Just Being: A Memoir. Click here to read.

Bhaskar Parichha reviews Shanta Gokhale’s Of Ancestors and Friends: A Life with Books. Click here to read.

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Click here to access Wild Winds: The Borderless Anthology of Poems

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

Categories
Editorial

Because We Are…

We have started feeling the impact of climate change with a bevy of natural disasters this August. Glacial ice melts, peat fires, haze, rising seas, more storms, warmer climes and fires wiping out greenery are just a few that come to the mind. But, long ago, our ancestors — without the support of technology — survived climate events. Göbekli Tepe (Turkey), an ancient human settlement, more than 11,000 years ago was lush and green. People moved as it turned arid. Humankind was nomadic then. They moved with shifting riverbeds. In Europe, humans survived the last glacial age, about 20,000 years ago. Then, now when we are faced with the reality of climate change, why is it we tremble with trepidation? We even have technology in hand. Ideators and writers like Asimov found solutions. In Caves of Steel (1954), Isaac Asimov had humanity move underground to survive unfriendly surface conditions. He created a huge city underground for humanity while some moved into other planets. Perhaps, the time has come for us to think out of the box. And that is what we hope all of you will join to do in Borderless.

September has thrown up varied content. We have non-fiction which reflects on how changes are a part of human lore and how diverse cultures can co-exist to enrich each other. Shantanu Ray Chaudhuri dwells on this idea while talking of Nazrul’s approach to the Persian Ghazal. He writes, the poet through his adaptation of this form “showed how a culture can absorb another culture without losing itself, and how, in the process, both cultures can become something larger than they were before.” And perhaps from that largeness of thought will emerge a one-world community — that Yatish Kumar S espouses. Maybe from people who think beyond borders, we will find the solution to tackling and adapting to climate change. We have an essay from Charudutta Panigrahi where he attempts to arouse the survival instinct in humans. Young Shruti Keskar writes of how she finds a new lease to life by accepting and adapting to changes while Farouk Guslara philosophises on living and possessions. We have Meredith Stephens adding to the vivacity of non-fiction with a recount of her sailing adventures with wonderful photographs by Alan Noble. And Devraj Singh Kalsi brings in sardonic humour with his piece on art and artists.

Humour is woven into poetry with ‘Emily’s Ghost‘ by Rhys Hughes. We have poetry on rain and silences by Ananya S Guha and SR Inciardi. Ron Pickett explores nature as does T Manjunath. Diverse themes resonate in poems by Jim Bellamy, Veerashetty Aurad, George Freek, Hassan Ismail Adekunle, Mary Pomfret, Subramaniam Cheemalapati, John Zedolik, Shazia Khatoon, Richard D. Houff and Ryan Quinn Flanagan. We have a translation of a Korean poem by Ihlwha Choi that reflects how putting aside differences and walking together can make for a happier world, thus reflecting themes from our non-fiction section. Perhaps, the best illustration of this idea is in Nazrul’s Bengali lyrics translated by Professor Fakrul Alam.

A story-poem by Tagore, Swopno (Dream), has also been brought to us in English. An interesting memoir by Kallol Lahiri centring around his childhood in Bengal has been translated by V Ramaswamy. Translations offer fiction from Isa Kamari. He has transcribed in English the second chapter of his Malay novel, The Throne. The novel focussing on psychological torment is being serialised in Borderless.

Our stories trot around the world with a narrative about a wedding by Fiona Sinclair. While she talks of a world where the basics of life are taken for granted, Gowher Bhat brings to us an account about a young girl who has to work hard to have her daily needs met. Jonathon B Ferrini on the other hand shares a tale about a young child, using the epistolary technique. Naramsetti Umamaheswara Rao narrates a tale of two brothers.

In this issue, we seem to have gathered a number of reviews and excerpts based on memoirs. Teresa Rehman has shared women pilgrim’s narratives in Her Hajj Story: Travel Diaries of Women Pilgrims from Assam and in the excerpt we carry, we have her reflecting on how she gathered these gems. The other excerpt is from Shubha Apte’s memoir, When the Road Becomes the Teacher.

Bhaskar Parichha has reviewed a rare book-centric memoir by Shanta Gokhale. He tells us, “Of Ancestors and Friends: A Life with Books is an unusual kind of literary memoir. It is neither a conventional autobiography nor a conventional work of criticism. Instead, it occupies an intimate space between the two, tracing a life’s intellectual and emotional history through books.” Meenakshi Malhotra has discussed the renowned historian Romila Thapar’s memoir, Just Being, a book that reflects not only her own journey but the freedom and outreach that privilege and capability can bestow on women in South Asia. On the other hand, Mudassar Javed Baryar refers to the plight of birongonas, war time widows during the 1971 conflict that birthed Bangladesh, while discussing Saima Begum’s The First Jasmines. He reflects: “Begum’s profound innovation is to turn the narrative back not just to these women’s trauma but to their ‘humanity, resilience and heart’, depicting them as ‘architects of family and community’.” Somdatta Mandal has praised Omair Ahmad’s novel, Homecoming.

We have also featured Kanuprya Dhingra, who has written a book on a unique book bazaar. In a candid exchange, she tells us her non-fiction, The Sunday Book Bazaar: Delhi’s Book Street and the Making of a Reading Public, “is for the reader in Singapore, or Mumbai, or London, or Lahore who has their own version of this informal, unruly, necessary space and sees it reflected here. It is a book about books, the people who read them, and the people who make that possible…the book is for everyone.” It’s an interesting read almost inviting you to stroll into the serendipitous democratic reading space full of local colour and stories.

We would like to thank not only Dhingra but all our contributors for their wonderful work. Huge thanks to the fabulous Borderless team for their input and to Sohana Manzoor for her artwork. Thank you all — without all of you and our wonderful readers, it would be difficult to have a journal. In the spirit of ubuntu, heartfelt thanks.

Do pause by our September content’s page. And let’s look forward to the hope for happier climes and times.

Best wishes,

Mitali Chakravarty

borderlessjournal.com

CLICK HERE TO ACCESS THE CONTENTS FOR THE SEPTEMBER 2026 ISSUE

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Review

Memoirs of Romila Thapar

Book Review by Meenakshi Malhotra

Title: Just Being: A Memoir

Author: Romila Thapar

Publisher: Seagull Books

The title of Romila Thapar’s memoirs is deceptive and deceptively simple. It is not ‘just being’ but that being Romila Thapar is also a story of becoming, of mapping out borders and boundaries of what a woman from a liberal, progressive and well to do family could achieve in newly independent India. Her achievements are many and varied and her persona redoubtable. There is tremendous breadth of scholarship and Thapar’s is undoubtedly a remarkable journey which details the trajectory of her growing up  years-family, background, physical and social location.   

As a historian, Thapar is acutely aware and interested in the way memory works and it is this abiding interest which is perhaps reflected in her use of the following lines: “Times present and time past/Are both perhaps present in time future/And time future contained in time past”, lines from “Four Quartets” by TS Eliot.

This encapsulation of time reminds us of a common  feature of autobiography — memoirs and autobiographies measure the gap between two temporal loci — the time of a past event and the time of its narration. In this case, the beginning of the story goes back nine decades. Prof Thapar regales us with stories of growing up in pre-Independence India. Born in Lucknow, she grew up in the North Western Frontier Provinces, moving from place to place as her father was a doctor in the Army.

In a way, the seeds of autonomy and independent thinking were sown very early in her life in myriad ways. She was influenced by her maternal grandmother and her mother. The latter  was a graduate  in the India of the 1920s, creditable for a woman  since it was at a time when women’s education received mixed responses. She was competent in reading and writing three languages — Hindi, Urdu and English. Thapar narrates that “my maternal grandmother had insisted on two conditions before the marriage: that my mother never be asked to observe purdah– take the veil — when there were men around: and that she never be asked to cook meals for the family. These conditions were met.”

One finds it surprising even from the vantage point of the present time where entrenched patriarchal attitudes completely normalise the double burden carried by women and mythify cooking not only as part of women’s household duties and responsibilities, but as an act of maternal care and a labour of love. Many such instances stand out which provide a glimpse of a progressive, educated and liberal family, among whom are to be found many intellectuals who played their role in public life.

Underlying this memoir is a certain imagination of India. Thapar stands in the vanguard of  those invoking, protecting and saving the idea of an India which is secular, multilingual, diverse and heterogenous. Thapar’s narrative warns us time and again of the dangers of a single narrative , a single story. Thus, she calls out the crises of democracy both during the Emergency[1] and in the present time. Is the failure of democracy attributable to the pervasive atmosphere of fear where citizens were/are cowed into silence? Or is it the failure of the education system within capitalism which has oriented individuals to fulfilling privatised desires rather than their duties as citizens? Or is it a comment on our civilisational failure that we have been reduced to acting as echo chambers for ruling elites?   

In Just Being, historian par excellence Romila Thapar reflects on a rich, variegated, path-breaking life ― along with the people, relationships, ideas and journeys that made her who she is. In this compelling memoir, she invites us into her illustrious world ― a rich, testimony from a scholar who has profoundly shaped and moulded our understanding of India’s past and present. From her childhood growing up in British India, through her years of education in London, her extensive travels to archaeological sites across Asia and beyond, and her trailblazing role in shaping the Centre for Historical Studies at Jawaharlal Nehru University, Thapar reflects on a life lived in the service of education and research. Written over the past few years, Just Being is ample proof of Thapar’s ability to view herself within the larger flow of history, and to give a splendid account of it with a scholar’s depth, a storyteller’s sensitivity and an artist’s luminosity. It reveals not only an extraordinary, boundary-defying life but courage, integrity and a profound conviction that understanding our past in the light of undeniable evidence is essential to understanding the present and shaping a more thoughtful future.

She completed her doctorate in 1958 and was offered a temporary job at School of Oriental and African Studies to teach a course in ancient history in London. Thapar’s father had set aside funds – it could be used for either marriage or education. She chose the latter and proceeded to educate herself in myriad ways. From attending the lectures of Eric Hobsbawm on European political thought, reading Ismat Chughtai, Simone de Beauvoir, enrolling herself in evening courses on Chinese art (she did Chinese landscape painting) and archaeology, learning italic calligraphy, playing table tennis with monks, holding the stepladder for friends in libraries while the other reached for books in upper shelves, her discovery of Africa, to making posters and going for marches at Trafalgar Square and Hyde Park, hers is a rich and variegated life.

One is enthralled by her narratives of the people she met, the places she visited, illumined by the rays of her razor-sharp wit and comprehensive intelligence. What also dazzles is her knowledge of jazz, her cosmopolitanism and her capacity to engage with politics and culture, art and music. She narrates about  her experiences in both white and coloured jazz bars, among musicians across the racial divide, in the immediate aftermath of Martin Luther King’s assassination in January 1968. She writes about her meeting with the writer Nelson Algren, who had previously shared an intense relationship with Simone Beauvoir and featured in her  work, both fictional and non-fictional.  Undoubtedly and confidently cosmopolitan, she is able to make a place for herself and earn respect in widely varying contexts, including many international fora and platforms.

Professor Thapar’s feistiness is evident throughout this absorbing memoir. So is her impeccable scholarship. In the chapters on “History Rocks” and “Textbooks in the Fray,” she calls out the ideologically motivated peddlers of popular histories prevalent on Whatsapp groups and contrasts them with professional historians and historiographers. She is a stickler for honing the historian’s craft through the discipline of method and process and sharply critiques the ideologically motivated peddling of history at the cost of professionalism. Two points are made very clearly by her: first that history is and should be based on scientific evidence and there should be no mixing up or conflation of mythology and history. “Mythology is the other kind of literature that is often quoted in public discussion and confused with history.’’ Another distinction is made with equal precision: following a Weberian or Marxist methodology is not necessarily a sign of ideological persuasion as much as a methodological preference for a certain rational process of  historical analysis.

Thapar is one of the world’s foremost authorities on ancient Indian history, celebrated for transforming how ancient Indian history is studied. Rather than treating history as a sequence of kings and battles, her structural, sociological, and text-critical approach shifts focus on social formations, economic shifts, and the evolution of cultural identities. Her definitive research has fundamentally challenged both nineteenth-century colonial stereotypes and reductive nationalist narratives.

Her contribution to Indian history is immeasurable.She meticulously dismantled the Eurocentric colonial claim that ancient Indians lacked a “sense of history”. In works like The Past Before Us, she showed how early Indian society embedded its historical memory through distinct traditions — such as the Itihasa-Purana literature, Buddhist/Jain monastic chronicles, and royal biographies (charitas).

Her chapter “Textbooks in the Fray” traces the ideological warfare being waged over school textbooks, some of which she had written along with other well-known historians. Her interrogation and contestation of monolithic and singular identities pave the way for a  layered reading of history.

Thapar argues that modern conceptions of a singular, monolithic “Hindu” or “Muslim” community are modern constructs. Her study of the historical narratives surrounding the Somnath Temple in Dwarka illustrated how a single historical event was interpreted in profoundly different, multifaceted ways by varying social groups over centuries. Similarly, her study of Sakuntala’s contrasting depictions in the famous Indian epic  Mahabharata (around 4th century BC) and  Kalidas’s play “Abhijnanashakuntalam” (4th-5th century AD) point out different conceptualisations and representation of women from a chronological perspective. 

Prof Romila Thapar’s skills as a memoirist are perhaps comparable to her skill as a historian. Her endeavours have both decolonised history as well as given the discipline the status of a social science. The book gives an insight into her life, her beliefs and reflects on our times with an unbiased perspective of an adroit historian. It is a prized and rare read.

[1] 1975-77: Period of curtailment of civil liberties in India due to internal unrest.

Meenakshi Malhotra is Professor of English Literature at Hansraj College, University of Delhi, and has been involved in teaching and curriculum development in several universities. She has edited two books on Women and Lifewriting, Representing the Self and Claiming the I, in addition  to numerous published articles on gender, literature and feminist theory.  Her most recent publication is The Gendered Body: Negotiation, Resistance, Struggle.

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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

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Categories
Contents

Borderless, June 2026

Art by Sohana Manzoor

Editorial

Changes, Ruskin, Snakes and Frogs… Click here to read.

Translations

Nazrul’s lyrics of Mor Ghumogore Elo Monohor (In my Sleep, Came the Enchanting One) 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.

The Heartless, a Balochi story by  Abdul Qayum Sarbazi, has been translated by Fazal Baloch. Click here to read.

Dragonfly 2 has been composed and translated from Korean by Ihlwha Choi. Click here to read.

Tagore’s poem, Amra Choli Somukhpane (We Look Forward and March), has been translated from Bengali by Mitali Chakravarty. Click here to read.

Pandies Corner

Songs of Freedom: Pink Dreams is an autobiographical narrative by Priyanka, written and compiled by Deeksha Vats. These stories 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.

Poetry

Click on the names to read the poems

Erik Kennedy, Shantanu Ray Chaudhuri, Anne Whitehouse, Snehaprava Das, George Freek, Pramod Rastogi, SR Inciardi, Aardhra Chandran, John Grey, Heera Unnithan, Jim Bellamy, Ryan Quinn Flanagan, Rhys Hughes

Poets, Poetry & Rhys Hughes

In A Few More Rhysop Fables, Rhys Hughes shares more absurdist fables. Click here to read.

Musings/Slices from Life

The Stars that Watch Us…

Sai Abhinay Penna muses during his morning jog. Click here to read.

Vignettes from the Past

Gowher Bhat mulls over his conversation with a debut author who published his first book at ninety-three. Click here to read.

Salvaging the Furling Line in the Joseph Bonaparte Gulf

Meredith Stephens takes us on a sailing adventure with photographs by Alan Noble. Click here to read.

Looking for that Goodness…

Farouk Gulsara explores why ‘evil’ exists with the help of experiments in science. Click here to read.

The Gift of Grace

Jun A. Alindogan talks of blessings and narrow escapes, including from the Typhoon Ondoy. Click here to read.

Musings of a Copywriter

In On Consulting a Physician, Devraj Singh Kalsi writes of doctors and patients with a touch of humour. Click here to read.

Notes from Japan

In It’s in the Bag, Suzanne Kamata explores Japanese etiquettes. Click here to read.

Essays

Homecoming

Larry S Su, who migrated from a mud cave in Shaanxi province to America, shares his story of the changes he sees during three visits to his home and muses on the gaps he has observed between these two places. Click here to read.

One Soul, Two Seas

Charudutta Panigrahi explores similarities across two geographically separated regions. Click here to read.

A Cyclist’s Diary: Criss-crossing Titiwangsa

Farouk Gulsara explores local colours as he cycles in the highlands of Malaysia. Click here to read.

Stories

The Sea of Loneliness

Keiran Martin journeys to the depths of the ocean. Click here to read.

The Silent Valley

Jeena R Papaadi builds a mystery around an experience. Click here to read.

The Art of Letting Go

Plamen Vasilev shares a human interes story set in Europe. Click here to read.

The City that Refused to be Found

Rabiya Rehman sets her fiction in Lahore. Click here to read.

The Village that Chose Trees

Naramsetti Umamaheswararao imagines a utopian, environment friendly village. Click here to read.

Interview

Keith Lyons converses with Erik Kennedy, a migrant poet who lives in New Zealand. Click here to read.

Book Excerpts

Excerpts from Ruskin Bond’s Scenes from the Magic Mountain: Five Seasons in the Mussoorie Hills and Beyond. Click here to read.

Excerpt from Anmol Diddan’s Burnout Highway. Click here to read.

Book Reviews

Somdatta Mandal has reviewed Ruskin Bond’s Scenes from the Magic Mountain: Five Seasons in the Mussoorie Hills and Beyond. Click here to read.

Rakhi Dalal has reviewed Shyam Manohar’s The Cold War of Sadanand Borse, translated from Marathi by Jerry Pinto. Click here to read.

Meenakshi Malhotra has reviewed Giti Chandra’s debut poetry collection, Setting Traps for Light. Click here to read.

Bhaskar Parichha reviews Stephen Alter’s The Fragrance of Rain: A Brief History of the Monsoon. Click here to read.

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Click here to access Wild Winds: The Borderless Anthology of Poems

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

Published from Singapore, ISSN: 2737-4688.

Duotrope listing: https://duotrope.com/magazine/borderless-39488

Categories
Editorial

Changes, Ruskin, Snakes and Frogs…

Summer, Dune in Zeeland by Piet Mondrain (1872 – 1944)
Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future,
And time future contained in time past.

‘Burnt Norton’, Four Quartets (1941) by TS Eliot

If we look back in time, we have a better life than that of our ancestors. Though conflicts rage and climate change is a reality that we all dread, it can safely be said, we have progressed beyond the imagination of those who lived a hundred years ago. The fact that some books from the past still reverberate with echoes of what the present holds says much for the outliers or authors who could think out of the box. Despite this complex intermingling of ideas and times, perhaps the world will change more now than before. We do not know anything for sure though experts are always predicting a future that for most of us remains unknown. What we can present is our own estimate of what can be and a definite assertion of what is. Truth as such is a matter of perception. That complicates it further. However, one of the changes that is definitely here to stay is climate change and our changing environment. Given that this is the month that homes World Environment Day, we have a smattering of writings that revolve around nature and also the human spirit that defies age.

We have featured a writer who revels in nature and is an ageless voice that bridges multiple cultures, Ruskin Bond. As he turned ninety-two last month, he published multiple new books. We have an excerpt from one of them, Scenes from the Magic Mountain: Five Seasons in the Mussoorie Hills and Beyond, a brilliant collection of snapshots of his interactions with nature over time — be it frogs, snakes or just trees. Some of the vignettes are humorous and some, as all classics are, thought provoking. Bond puts into words how he chose to work in Landour (a small town in Himalayas) and continued to write from there for sixty years. He talks of the spell the mountains cast on him, “I like to think that I have become a part of this Magic Mountain; that by living here for so long, I can claim a relationship with the trees, wild flowers, even the rocks that are an integral part of this landscape.”  The other book excerpt is a contrast to Bond’s, a non-fiction called Burnout Highway by Anmol Diddan. It explores the collective suffering of stress at work where achievements distance humans from nature and a fulfilling life and urges readers to be open to changes.

Somdatta Mandal discusses Bond’s Scenes from the Magic Mountain: Five Seasons in the Mussoorie Hills and Beyond and concludes: “It [the book] is a collector’s delight and also one to be gifted and recommended for anyone who loves to read about Ruskin Bond’s deep and lifelong love for the Himalayas. Bond’s poetic prose can hardly be imitated…”

In keeping with the theme of environment, Bhaskar Parichha has reviewed Stephen Alter’s The Fragrance of Rain: A Brief History of the Monsoon. He tells us: “The Fragrance of Rain is much more than a history of weather. It is a meditation on nature, culture, memory, and belonging… Like the season it celebrates, the book is refreshing, nourishing, and lingering in its impact…” While Rakhi Dalal expresses her delight with Shyam Manohar’s The Cold War of Sadanand Borse, a novella translated from Marathi by Jerry Pinto, Meenakshi Malhotra revels in Giti Chandra’s debut book of poems, Setting Traps for Light.

The June poetry section also homes a poem on monsoon by Aardhra Chandran. Anne Whitehouse takes us to Egypt with her vivid words. Shantanu Ray Chaudhuri has shared a series of poems in memory of his late father. We have more from Snehaprava Das, George Freek, Pramod Rastogi, SR Inciardi, John Grey, Heera Unnithan and Jim Bellamy. Ryan Quinn Flanagan’s lines do bring a smile to the lips while Rhys Hughes writes of census of centaurs! Erik Kennedy, a migrant poet from New Zealand, shares his poetry and also his views in a candid interview with Keith Lyons.

In translations, Professor Fakrul Alam has captured the flavours of Nazrul’s Bengali lyrics, which also echo of the rainy season or monsoons. Isa Kamari brings to us more of his Malay poems in English and Ihlwha Choi shares a rendering of his Korean poem, ‘Dragonfly 2’, into English. One of Tagore’s poems from Balaka (Flight of the Cranes, 1916) has found its way into this issue after being translated. We also have a touching Balochi story around social gaps from the late Abdul Qayum Sarbazi, brought to us in English by Fazal Baloch.

Hughes has continued sharing his short fables, which are absurd but also, comical! A sensitive story about the natural world mingled with Maori concepts by Keiran Martin seems so much in sync with the oceans while Jeena R Papaadi has woven a strange narrative located in a land that only one man could visit. Plamen Vasilev shares a human-interest story set in Europe and Rabiya Rehman takes us to Lahore in quest of a missing destination! Naramsetti Umamaheswararao’s narrative takes us back to a village that opted for trees, thus enriching the environmental lore in this issue.

We have a real life heart rending story from a young girl in our Pandies Corner, written and related by Deeksha Vats, based on the story told by a victim of familial violations and violence.

Our non-fiction section homes Larry Su’s essay on how his life took him from a rural mud cave in Shaanxi province to the glamour of Chicago. Reflecting on the changes he has experienced on his rare visits to his original homeland, Su muses on the cultural and socio-economic gaps he has observed between the two places. Charudutta Panigrahi – as if in direct opposition — shares similarities between two diverse geographies.

Suzanne Kamata explores a custom which may not be that eco-friendly in her column from Japan. Jun A. Alindogan brings home the impact of climate disasters while dwelling on blessings with his narrative about a narrow escape from the Typhoon Ondoy (2009). While Meredith Stephen writes of sailing to Timor Sea with photographs by Alan Noble, Farouk Gulsara takes us on a cycling adventure around the mountains of Titiwangsa. In another musing, he also explores the idea of good and evil in a sardonic tone while Sai Abhinay Penna dwells on the grandeur and vastness of the universe over his morning jog. Gowher Bhat writes of a man for whom age seems to be just a number as he publishes his debut book at 93! One wonders at the frequency of such occurrences — we have writings about two authors above ninety in the June issue. In contrast, Devraj Singh Kalsi brings in mortal fears while writing of visiting doctors with a soupçon of humour – some of it directed at himself. 

Perhaps, laughter is really the best medicine to keep well! Ruskin Bond makes us laugh and writes of nature in a way that touches hearts and makes us forget the contrasting glitzy world, where we suffer stress and burnout. Our environment makes a difference, doesn’t it?

With that we wrap up our June issue. Huge thanks to our fabulous team, especially Sohana Manzoor for her wonderful artwork. To all our contributors, heartfelt thanks — we are because you are. And gratitude to our readers who make it worth our while to write and publish here.

We will next meet you during the monsoon months of South Asia though, near the equator, it rains almost every day and, in the Southern Hemisphere, it will be peak winter!

Happy reading!

Mitali Chakravarty

borderlessjournal.com

CLICK HERE TO ACCESS THE CONTENTS FOR THE JUNE 2026 ISSUE

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Categories
Review

Setting Traps for Light

Book Review by Meenakshi Malhotra

Title: Setting Traps for Light

Author: Giti Chandra

Publisher: Hachette India

Setting Traps for Light is a debut collection of poems by Giti Chandra which is illuminated and irradiated by her unique and multifaceted artistry. She is a writer, poet, painter and musician. She is also an academic– in all quite a tall order. As is to be expected given her remarkable gifts, her writing is both luminous and beautiful.

In literary interviews hosted by cultural platforms like Platform Magazine, Chandra shared that the title originated from her hobby of using her mobile phone camera to capture how light hitting ordinary everyday objects completely transforms them. The title — Setting Traps for Light — acts as a luminous metaphor for discovering and working towards courage, hope, and resilience in the middle of personal grief, political trauma, and climate anxieties.

Many of these anxieties, of migration and change — climate and otherwise — are refracted obliquely through her poetry. Events that have been relegated to the background of consciousness, surface suddenly, often unexpectedly. Chandra’s verses often act as a prism, refracting the everyday, the mundane to bursts of sudden illumination. For instance, in ‘Ode to the Ordinary’, she celebrates the “unwashed  beauty of the Ordinary day, the unnoticed, unapplauded/ Transcience of the repetitively mundane/The ubiquitously profane/Say it now in romantic rhyme/The ordinary is the Skylark of our time.”

Here is an instance of turning the everyday into the sublime, elevating the quotidian, the seemingly trivial into a polished gem. In a beautiful illustration of the individual talent constructing and honing a poetic tradition, she expresses her gratitude to her poetic predecessors, interlacing their phrases into the fabric, the warp and the weft of her own poetry:

A month of poems ends
With a day dedicated to labour.
A month that began
With a day dedicated to Fools.
Therein lies, perhaps, a metaphor
Requiring another set of tools.

References to Yeats, T.S.Eliot, Shakespeare are strewn across the poem. Similarly, she alludes to Ghalib and Faiz, Ludhianvi and Mira who “solder and weld the self and creation.” She continues:

But of all the names and works of hands
Those of you, all banded here
Are closest to the bone. You stand
Together and walk the way
From All Fools to Labour Day.

Replete with scriptural echoes, the poem becomes a poetic manifesto of sorts attesting to the hard work, the perspiration that is welded in the smithy of the poet’s soul and is then acknowledged and recognised as genius. By bringing in references to Yeats’s hammer and Eliot’s chisel, poetry is apprehended as something material that brings together both inspiration and perspiration. Fleeting moments are honed to enduring monuments alchemising the transcient and the evanescent into something more lasting and profound, something rich and strange.

The fact that Chandra is an artist par excellence is evident in the strong visual imagery and metaphors that inform her poetry. The fact that she is a trained musician is also expressed  in the mellifluous cadences of her verse, in the rise and fall of words, in the rhythms and segues of free and blank verse. The fact that she is an brilliant scholar /student with a keen and perceptive eye, is attested to by the evocative title of her first poetry collection, which has been a while in the making.

Even though she understands the temptations and potential risk of resorting to Romantic conceit, Chandra soldiers on to write her experiences of climate change and crisis, the unimaginable misery of the long walk home that characterised the movement of migrant labour in India in 2020 when the Covid crisis unfolded. The poet here becomes a witness, a chronicler of critical events as she poignantly narrates the death of a twelve-year-old boy. Elsewhere, she writes of the paradox and the “irony that we /Fight for air.” There is a reference to George Floyd who had a “knee on neck, face down/Grit on cheek, no breath to speak,/No bed to sleep on, etherised/In our castles, safe in locked/Towns.”  The use of the word “etherised” had been immortalised by T.S. Eliot’s ‘The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock’. Chandra has used it to suggest the numbness of contemporary civilisation in a state of crisis.

Chandra’s poetry opens up vast vistas and redefines the poet’s function-of playing witness, of chronicling change, treading oft-trod paths anew. Some poems also offer social commentary like ‘Simple Rhymes for Difficult Times’. In a series of apparently innocuous lines, the poet writes:

“Peace be in your streets/ Let no neighbour inspect/Your larder for its meats./Let no man  suspect/Your daughter of eyeing/Mates of other castes./Peace be in your markets/As people shop between fasts”. The reference leads inescapably to the current trends of food vigilantism. It evocatively explores loosening and binding, movement and migration, loss and desolation. A running theme is that of courage[1] , on which there are thematic and tonal variations.

In the poem ‘Love in the Time of Climate Change’, there are not only a Arnold’s poignant  lines from Dover Beach: “Ah love,let us be true /To one another,” but also echoes and resonances from Andrew Marvell’s ‘To His Coy Mistress’. Contemporary anxieties and concerns meld with eternal verities and create a delectable smorgasbord of emotions: ‘‘Our love shall be a raft, fuelled /By no heat, in a world bent on burning. /Deserts and dry continents are no grounds/ For deserting. We shall find our feet/To a love of no returning.” The brilliance of these lines lie not just in the skillful use of enjambment and caesura, but the deft summing of the   lyrical tradition.

The central metaphor of “setting traps for light” acts as an active, deliberate pursuit of hope, beauty, and clarity. Instead of waiting for illumination to arrive passively, the poet argues that one must construct “traps”—through memory, art, and close observation—to capture fleeting moments of joy and truth. With her transnational themes and multiple and extended locations, Chandra’s poetry truly seems to inhabit a borderless world. 

The collection ends with a reminder that poetry is a commitment and an act of faith. In the penultimate poem, ‘When You Run Out of Words’: “Poets/ have said that you should speak/Because your lips, your tongue/Are free and the truth lives still.” Further, she insists that “all/Shall not be well/Till you are well.”

The brave new world of Chandra’s poetry involves integrity and truth telling. While musings on death and mutability are profoundly present in her debut collection of poems, the tone is not necessarily despairing. Somber and meditative, lyrical and reflective, the poems make us think, even as they transport us into a delightful realm and an enchanted forest of words.

Meenakshi Malhotra is Professor of English Literature at Hansraj College, University of Delhi, and has been involved in teaching and curriculum development in several universities. She has edited two books on Women and Lifewriting, Representing the Self and Claiming the I, in addition  to numerous published articles on gender, literature and feminist theory.  Her most recent publication is The Gendered Body: Negotiation, Resistance, Struggle.

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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

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Contents

Borderless, April 2026

Art by Sohana Manzoor

Editorial

Wild Winds and April Showers… Click here to read.

Translations

Daliya, a story by Tagore, has been translated from Bengali by Somdatta Mandal. Click here to read.

Roktokorbi (Red Oleanders), a full length play by Tagore, 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.

Shooting Dida (Grandmother) by Kallol Lahiri has been translated from Bengali by V. Ramaswamy. Click here to read.

Jonmodin (Birthday) by Tagore has been translated from Bengali by Mitali Chakravarty. Click here to read.

Poetry

Click on the names to read the poems

Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal, Charles Rammelkamp, A. Jessie Michael, David Mellor, Mahnoor Shaheen, John Grey, Fazal Abubakkar Esaf, Jim Murdoch, Malaika Rai, Tony Dawson, Pramod Rastogi, Debra Elisa, Ananya Sarkar, Ryan Quinn Flanagan, Snigdha Agrawal, George Freek, Rhys Hughes

Poets, Poetry & Rhys Hughes

In Rhysop Fables: More Absurd Narratives, Rhys Hughes we hear more about Aesop and Rhysop. Click here to read.

Musings/ Slices from Life

Sundus, You Are My World

Gower Bhat explores the joys of fatherhood. Click here to read.

Flavours of Hyderabad

Mohul Bhowmick visits festive celebrations in March 2026 in Hyderabad. Click here to read.

Serendipity in Vietnam

Meredith Stephens travels to more of rural Vietnam and writes about it, with photographs by Alan Noble. Click here to read.

Technology War in the House

Chetan Poduri writes of the gaps technology has created in his home. Click here to read.

A Fishy Story

Jun A. Alindogan gives an account of how an overgrowth of water hyacinth affects aquatic life and upsets the local food chain while giving us a flavourful account of local food. Click here to read.

Conditional Comfort

Anupriya Pandey muses on her daily life. Click here to read.

Musings of a Copywriter

In Hiring a Bodyguard, Devraj Singh Kalsi ironically glances at the world of glitz. Click here to read.

Notes from Japan

In Imagining Cambodian Dancers at the Royal Palace, a mesmerised Suzanne Kamata shares not just her narratives and photographs but also video of the Cambodian dancers in Phnom Penh. Click here to read.

Essays

A Cyclists’s Diary: Jaipur to Udaipur

Farouk Gulsara narrates with text and photographs about his cycling holiday. Click here to read.

Nobody Cries at Goodbyes Anymore

Charudutta Panigrahi writes of the infringement of technology over human interactions. Click here to read.

Stories

The Blue Binder

Jonathon B Ferrini shares a story around mental disability. Click here to read.

Homecoming

Oindrila Ghosal shares a story set in Kashmir. Click here to read.

Stale Flat Bread

Sangeetha G writes of a young woman’s fate. Click here to read.

When Silence Learned to Speak

Naramsetti Umamaheswararao explores a modern day dilemma. Click here to read.

Features

A review of Leonie’s Leap by Marzia Pasini and an interview with the author. Click here to read.

Keith Lyons in conversation with Keith Westwaters, a poet from New Zealand. Click here to read.

Book Excerpts

An excerpt from Scott Ezell’s Journey to the End of the Empire: In China Along the Edge of Tibet. Click here to read.

An excerpt from Tarana Husain Khan’s The Courtesan, Her Lover and I. Click here to read.

Book Reviews

Somdatta Mandal reviews Indranil Chakravarty’s The Tree Within: The Mexican Nobel Laureate Octavio Paz’s Years in India. Click here to read.

Meenakshi Malhotra reviewed Radha Chakravarty’s In Your Eyes A River: Poems. Click here to read.

Rabindra Kumar Nayak reviews Bhaskar Parichha’s Odisha – 500 Years of Turmoil, Mayhem and Subjugation. Click here to read.

Bhaskar Parichha reviews Ashoke Mukhopadhyay’s No. 1 Akashganga Lane: The First Novel about the Gig Workers of Kolkata, translated from Bengali by Zenith Roy. Click here to read.

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Click here to access Wild Winds: The Borderless Anthology of Poems

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

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Editorial

Wild Winds and April Showers

From Public Domain
Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote, 
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote,
And bathed every veyne…

The Canterbury Tales (1387-1400) by Chaucer, Prologue

This is the month Asia hosts sprays of new years across multiple regions. Many of these celebrate the fecundity of Earth, spring and the departure of bleak winter months. Each new year is filled with hope for the coming year. The vibrant colours of varied cultures celebrate spring in different ways, but it is a welcome for the new-born year, a jubilation, a reaffirmation of the continuity of the circle of life. Will the wars, especially the shortages caused by them and felt deeply by many of us, affect these celebrations? Had they impacted the festivals that were celebrated earlier? These are questions to which we all seek answers. We can only try to gauge the suffering caused by war on those whose homes, hopes, families and assets have been affected other than trying to cope with the senselessness of such inane attacks. But, in keeping with TS Eliot’s observations on Prufrock, most of us continue our lives unperturbed and as usual.

Some of us think and try to dissent for peace and a world without borders with words – prose or poetry. To reinforce ideas of commonalities that bind overriding divides, we are excited to announce a poetry anthology mapping varied continents with content from Borderless Journal, Wild Winds: The Borderless Anthology of Poems. We are hugely grateful to Hawakal Publishers for this opportunity and to Bitan Chakraborty for the fabulous cover design. We invite you all to browse on the anthology which is available in hardcopy across continents.

Our issue this month is a bumper issue with the translation of Tagore’s Roktokorobi (Red Oleanders) by Professor Fakrul Alam. It’s the full-length play this time as earlier we had carried only an excerpt. The play is deeply relevant to our times as is Somdatta Mandal’s English rendition of his story, ‘Daliya’, set in Arakan. We also have also translated Tagore’s response to the idea of mortal fame and deification in poetry. Kallol Lahiri’s poignant Bengali story about the resilience of an ageing actress has been brought to us in English by V Ramaswamy.  Isa Kamari brings us translations of his Malay poems exploring spirituality through nature.

Our poetry section explores myriad issues – some with the help of nature. We have a vibrant selection of poems from Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal, A. Jessie Michael, Mahnoor Shaheen, John Grey, Fazal Abubakkar Esaf, Malaika Rai, Tony Dawson, Pramod Rastogi, Debra Elisa, Ananya Sarkar, Jim Murdoch and George Freek. In one of his four poems, Charles Rammelkamp reflects on the impacts of global warming. David Mellor explores the impact of bombing. Ryan Quinn Flanagan brings us an ekphrastic poem which leaves us smiling.  Snigdha Agrawal explores a battle of kitchens on YouTube with a touch of humour and Rhys Hughes dedicates a poem in memory of Hilaire Belloc (1870-1953), which too brings a smile to the lips.

But what really grips are the fables that Hughes will be sharing with us over four months. He calls them Rhysop Fables, after the ancient ones from Aesop’s with the ancient author himself being mentioned in one of the short absurdist narratives this time.  In fiction, our regular fable writer, Naramsetti Umamaheswararao explores a modern-day dilemma, that of social media intruding into the development of children. Jonathon B Ferrini glances at resilience and mental disability while, Sangeetha G looks into societal attitudes that still plague her part of the world.  Oindrila Ghosal gives a story set in Kashmir.

From Kashmir, Gower Bhat shares a heartfelt musing on being a first time father. Mohul Bhowmick writes of Eid in Hydearbad (Hari Raya in Southeast Asia) — echoing themes from Kamari’s poems — and Anupriya Pandey ponders over the quiet acceptance of mundane life that emphasises social inequities. Jun A. Alindogan brings home issues from Phillipines. While we have stories about Vietnam from Meredith Stephens, Suzanne Kamata muses about Phnom Penh, mesmerised by Cambodian dancers.

Farouk Gulsara writes of his cycling trip from Jaipur to Udaipur bringing to life dichotomies of values and showing that age can be just a number. Chetan Poduri reinforces gaps created by technology as does Charudutta Panigrah, a theme that reverberates from poetry to fiction to non-fiction and much of it with a light touch. Devraj Singh Kalsi sprinkles humour with his strange tale about hiring a bodyguard.

Keith Lyons has brought in Keith Westwaters, a soldier-turned-poet who seems to find his muse mainly in New Zealand. We have also featured an author who overrides borders of continents, Marzia Pasini. Her book, Leonie’s Leap, has a protagonist of mixed origin and her characters are drawn out of Russia, India, Bulgaria and many other places.

We have variety in book excerpts. Scott Ezell’s Journey to the End of the Empire: In China Along the Edge of Tibet is a non-fiction about the author’s rather unconventional trip while the other excerpt is a historical fiction, Tarana Husain Khan’s The Courtesan, Her Lover and I. In book reviews, Mandal travels back a to the last century to the times of Octavio Paz (1914-1998) as she writes of Indranil Chakravarty’s The Tree Within: The Mexican Nobel Laureate Octavio Paz’s Years in India. Meenakshi Malhotra has discussed Radha Chakravarty’s second poetry collection, In Your Eyes A River: Poems and Rabindra Kumar Nayak has written of the prolific Bhaskar Parichha’s latest book, Odisha – 500 Years of Turmoil, Mayhem and Subjugation. Parichha himself has reviewed Ashoke Mukhopadhyay’s No. 1 Akashganga Lane: The First Novel about the Gig Workers of Kolkata, translated from Bengali by Zenith Roy. The review rsuggests a fascinating story that hovers on the lives of the ‘invisibles’ — the people who continue to ‘help’ the middle classes in South Asia lead a comfortable life. Acknowledging societal gaps is perhaps the start of raising consciousness so that a move can be made towards bridging them and eventually, closing them.

This rounds up our April issue. Do visit our content’s page and explore the journal further.

Huge thanks to the wonderful team, especially Sohana Manzoor for her art. They help bring together the colours of the world to our pages. Huge thanks to contributors who make each issue evolve a personality of its own. And heartfelt thanks to readers who make it worth our while to write.

Wish you all a wonderful month ahead!

Mitali Chakravarty

borderlessjournal.com

CLICK HERE TO ACCESS THE CONTENTS FOR THE APRIL 2026 ISSUE

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Editorial

Is Sky the Limit?

Sometimes, we have an idea, a thought and then it takes form and becomes a reality. That is how the Borderless Journal came to be six years ago while the pandemic raged. The pandemic got over and takeovers and wars started. We continued to exist because all of you continue to pitch in, ignoring the differences created by certain human constructs. We meet with the commonality of felt emotions and aesthetics to create a space for all those who believe in looking beyond margins. We try to erase margins or borders that lead to hatred, anger, violence and war. Learning from the natural world, we believe we can be like the colours of the rainbow that seem to grow out of each other or the grass that is allowed to grow freely beyond manmade borders. If nature gives us lessons through its processes, is it not to our advantage to conserve what nurtures us, and in the process, we save our home planet, the Earth? We could all be together in peace, enjoying nature and nurture, living in harmony in the Universe if only we could overlook differences and revel in similarities.

A young poet Nma Dhahir says it all in her poem that is a part of our journal this month —

This is how we stay human together:
by refusing the easy damage, by carrying each other
without calling it sacrifice,
by believing that what we protect in one another
eventually protects the world.

--'How We Stay’ by Nma Dhahir

In our poetry section, we have Ron Pickett suggesting peace and love with his poem on three doves on a roof and Snigdha Agrawal hinting at a future Earth. We have heartfelt poetry weaving in the colours of life with Jared Carter, Tim Tomlinson, Mohul Bhowmick, Laila Brahmbhatt, George Freek, Lana Hechtman Ayers, Pramod Rastogi, John Grey, Edward Reilly, Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal, Snehaprava Das, SR Inciardi and Ryan Quinn Flanagan while Rhys Hughes weaves in humour.

Translations has more poetry with Professor Fakrul Alam bringing us Nazrul’s Bengali lyrics in English and Fazal Baloch familiarising us with beautiful Balochi poetry of the late Majeed Ajez, a young poet who left us too soon. Isa Kamari translates his own poems from Malay, capturing the colours of the community in Singapore to blend it with a larger whole. And of course, we have a Tagore poem rendered into English from Bengali. This time it’s a poem called ‘Jatra (Journey)’ which reflects not only on social gaps but also on politics through aeons.

Christine C Fair has translated a story from Punjabi by Lakhvinder Virk, a story that reflects resilience in women who face the dark end of social trends, a theme that reverberates in Flanagan’s poetry and Meenakshi Malhotra’s essay, which while reflecting on the need of different perspectives in histories – like water and nomads — peeks into the need to recall women’s history aswell. This is important not just because March hosts the International Women’s Day (IWD) but because one wonders if women in Afghanistan are better off now than the suffragettes who initiated the idea of such a day more than a century ago?

This time our non-fiction froths over with scrumptious writings from across continents. Tamara-Lee Brereton-Karabetsos muses on looking at numbers and beyond to enjoy the essence of nature. Farouk Gulsara ideates about living on in posterity through deeds and ideas. Gower Bhat shares how he learns story writing skills from watching movies. Meredith Stephens talks of her experience of a fire in the Australian summer. Bhaskar Parichha writes with passion about his region, Odisha. We have a heartfelt tribute to Mark Tully, who transcended borders, from Bhowmick. And an essay on Arundhati Roy’s memoir, Mother Mary Comes to Me, from Somdatta Mandal, which explores not just the book but also the covers which change with continents. Prithvijeet Sinha travels beyond Lucknow and Suzanne Kamata brings to us stories about her trip to Phnom Penh.

Keith Lyons draws from the current crises and writes about changing times, suggesting: “Changes aren’t endings, but thresholds.” Perhaps, if we see them as ‘thresholds of change’, the current events are emphasising the need to accept that human constructs can be redefined. I am sure a Neolithic or an Australopithecus would have been equally scared of evolving out of their system to one we would deem ‘superior’. Life in certain ways can only evolve towards the future, even if currently certain changes seem to be retrogressive. We can never correctly predict the future… but can only imagine it. And Devraj Singh Kalsi imagines it with a dollop of humour where tails become a trend among humans again!

Humour and absurdity are woven into a series of short fables by Hughes while Naramsetti Umamaheswarao weaves a fable around acceptance of differences. In fiction, we have stories of resilience from Jonathon B Ferrini and Terry Sanville. Bhat gives us a story set in Kashmir and Sohana Manzoor gives us one set in Dhaka, a narrative that reminds one of Jane Austen… and perhaps even an abbreviated version of the 2001 film, Monsoon Wedding.

In reviews we have, Mohammad Asim Siddiqui discussing Anisur Rahman’s The Essential Ghalib. Rituparna Khan has written on Malashri Lal’s poetry collection reflecting on women, Signing in the Air. And Bhaskar Parichha has reviewed Deepta Roy Chakraverti’s Daktarin Jamini Sen: The Life of British India’s First Woman Doctor, a book that reflects on the resilience that makes great women. Thus, weaving in flavours of the IWD, which applauds women who are resilient while urging humans for equal rights for one half of the world population.

Book excerpts host Kailash Satyarthi’s Karuna: The Power of Compassion and Aruna Chakravarti’s Creeping Shadows: 13 Ghost Stories. We are also running a feature on the latter collection with Chakravarti telling us why she switched from historical fiction to ghost stories. The interesting thing is many of her ghouls are embedded in histories where they suffered violences, which leads us to the bigger question, can human suffering dehumanise us? Should it?

While we ponder on larger realities, Borderless Journal looks forward to a future with more writings centred around humanity, climate change, our planet and all creatures great and small. This year has not only seen a rise in readership and contributors — and the numbers rose further after our unsolicited Duotrope listing in October 2025 — but has also attracted writers from more challenged parts of the world, like Ukraine, Iran, Tunisia and Kurdistan. We are delighted to home writing from all those who attempt to transcend borders and be a part of the larger race of humanity. I would like to quote Margaret Atwood to explain what I mean. “I hope that people will finally come to realize that there is only one ‘race’—the human race—and that we are all members of it.” And I would like to extend her view to find solidarity with all living beings. I hope that there will be a point in time when we will realise there’s not much difference between, a lizard, a fly, a human or a tree… All these lifeforms are necessary for our existence.

I would want to hugely thank all our team for stretching out and making this a special issue for our sixth anniversary and Manzoor for her fabulous artwork. Huge thanks to all our contributors and readers for being with us through our journey. Let’s change the world with peace, love and friendship!

Looking forward to the future.

Mitali Chakravarty

borderlessjournal.com

CLICK HERE TO ACCESS THE CONTENTS FOR THE MARCH 2026 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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Essay

March Musings: Rethinking Histories…

By Meenakshi Malhotra

Whose story are we recounting when we attempt to narrate history? An unexamined acceptance of anthropocentric biases have placed man at the centre of historical narratives and historical accounts. The time has come when this assumption of man’s centrality is being challenged and overturned. Both posthumanism, a concept that directly challenges man’s centrality and planetarism[1], which sees the interconnectedness of the natural, animal and human, have displaced the human entity from its position of unquestioned and unquestionable centrality.

Amitav Ghosh’s latest novel, Ghost Eye(2025), made one go back to the earlier novels in the series with a similar cast of characters, Gun Island (2029) and The Hungry Tide (2004). Like many of his other novels, these works also encapsulate the themes that Ghosh communicates with increasing urgency in successive novels-climate change and man’s hubris which has catapulted mankind into an increasing tailspin hurtling towards ecological disaster.

In Gun Island, Ghosh asks a whole series of questions which make us look at history differently. What if history is understood through the lens of migrations and mass movement or natural disasters, through unexpected bird migrations, beaching of dolphins and the shifting movement of oceanic boundaries?  Is there a pattern to extraordinary events, coincidences or are they a matter of pure chance? Is time always linear? What if temporality works in loops? What happens when we are faced by recurrences and presentiments?

What if we review and revisualise history not as bounded by national boundaries but a more fluid and flowing substance — water, seas and water bodies? Some contemporary books like Oceanic Histories (2017)offers the first comprehensive account of world history focused not on the land but viewed through the seventy per cent of the Earth’s surface covered by water. Tracing the histories and the historiographies of the various oceanic regions, the book highlights  the links between human and non-human history and the connections and comparisons between parts of the World Ocean. If history is a set of geo-political narratives centred around land and its acquisition, why can’t we have histories of waterways? As a life-giving but also potentially destructive substance, water occupies a prominent place in the imagination. At the same time, water issues are among the most troubling ecological and social concerns of our time.



Water is often studied only as a “resource,” a quantifiable and instrumentalised substance. Thinking with Water instead invites readers to consider how water — with its potent symbolic power, its familiarity, and its unique physical and chemical properties — is a lively collaborator in our ways of knowing and acting. What emerges is both a rich opportunity to encourage more thoughtful environmental engagement and a challenge to common oppositions between nature and culture.

Thinking about history brings me to women’s history and the issue of international women’s day, which falls on March 8th. While the question of  women’s day maybe a matter of individual opinion, the question maybe rephrased as “do we need a woman’s day” or “why do we need a woman’s day”at all?

Do we need it as a kind of affirmative action? Given the  historic lack of a level playing field, it is perhaps a reparative action? Or is it a needed  inclusive action, that reflects changes in social policy? Much as we would like to think along positive lines about women’s development and empowerment, the picture across the world is a grim one.

For those who feel that everyday is women’s day, we could perhaps recall the broader historical context. The IWD originated from early 20th-century labour and suffrage movements in North America and Europe, demanding better pay, shorter working hours and better working conditions.

Ideally ,  women and girls should have equal rights under the law, rendering them  safe from violence, with rights to access education, livelihoods, resources, and justice on equal terms. When these rights are realised, the impact extends far beyond individual women and girls to their families, communities, and society as a whole. Research shows that gender equality delivers better outcomes across economies, health systems, peace processes, and democratic resilience. In this context, 8th March provides an occasion to recall how far we have come. It  is also a necessary reminder of how  far we still have to travel in order to ensure that women and other oppressed minorities get their fair share on earth, rather than direct their eyes to heaven.

It may seem a form of tokenism to earmark one day out of 365 days in the calendar as women’s day, but at least it’s a beginning where we could begin to reassess how much we take women’s roles as caregivers and nurturers for granted. Many descriptions of women are couched in a familiar vocabulary which views women as daughters ,wives and  mothers, who are the backbone of the family, pillars of society, the glue that binds communities to each other and models of resilience and endurance. Yet this idioms of approbation do not protect women from harassment, abuse and gendered violence of many kinds; in Catherine McKinnon’s words, they are rendered less than human. When we begin to recognise women as human beings with agency, legitimate claimants of human rights and deserving gender parity and justice, we will probably not need International Women’s Day.

[1] A new subject that deals with the health of the planet

Meenakshi Malhotra is Professor of English Literature at Hansraj College, University of Delhi, and has been involved in teaching and curriculum development in several universities. She has edited two books on Women and Lifewriting, Representing the Self and Claiming the I, in addition  to numerous published articles on gender, literature and feminist theory.  Her most recent publication is The Gendered Body: Negotiation, Resistance, Struggle.

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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 Amazon International