Naramsetti Umamaheswararao makes up a new fable. Click here to read.
Feature
A review of Jaladhar Sen’s The Travels of a Sadhu in the Himalayas, translated from Bengali by Somdatta Mandal, and an online interview with the translator. Click here to read.
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.
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.
Everything is different today. Everything is the same. She walks a little slower, Her head a little lower. Her smile is gone Her smile might never have been. Her dog knows; they have a way of knowing. Only three of us know, We know what the doctor said. The diagnosis. Everything is different today.
CARE FOR YOURSELF FIRST
Care for yourself first. Like loss of pressurisation in a jet. It wasn’t a surprise, not really. Are there any surprises left? Still, I wasn’t ready for it. The name sounded so final, so fixed. But isn’t life final, certain? After the hospital stay, I focused on myself, my body, my mind. I thought I would have lots of time. Time to write, time to paint, time to connect. Recovery takes a lot out of you. Physical, psychological, spiritual. Care for yourself first. Slowly, I discovered what was missing! Creativity and humour! Where had they gone? Will they return? I used to find beauty wherever I looked. I used to find humour all around me I used to have leftover energy to convert. They’re back now and welcome home! Laughter, Jokes, Observations, Insights. Excess energy to convert. It won’t last forever, sadly. So I’m revelling in my creativity while I can. Care for yourself first! Then care for others.
Ron Pickett is a retired naval aviator. His 90-plus articles have appeared in various publications. He has published five books: Perfect Crimes – I Got Away With It, Discovering Roots, Getting Published, 60 Odd Short Stories, and Empaths. Ron has had his poems published in Scarlet Leaf, Borderless Journal, and other periodicals.
PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL
Nazrul’s Jonomo, Jonomo Gelo(Generations passed) has been translated from Bengali by Professor Fakrul Alam. Click here to read and listen to a rendition by the famed Feroza Begum.
Ajit Cour‘s short story, Nandu, has been translated from Punjabi by C Christine Fair. Click here to read.
The Scarecrowby Anwar Sahib Khan has been translated from Balochi by Fazal Baloch. Click here to read.
Naramsetti Umamaheswararao moulds children’s perspectives. Click here to read.
Notes from Japan
In American Wife,Suzanne Kamata gives a short story set set in the Obon festival in Japan. Click here to read.
Conversation
Neeman Sobhan, author of Abiding City: Ruminations from Rome, discusses shuttling between multiple cultures and finding her identity in words. Click here to road.
Storm in purple by Arina Tcherem. From Public Domain
If we take a look at our civilisation, there are multiple kinds of storms that threaten to annihilate our way of life and our own existence as we know it. The Earth and the human world face twin threats presented by climate change and wars. While on screen, we watch Gaza and Ukraine being sharded out of life by human-made conflicts over constructs made by our own ‘civilisations’, we also see many of the cities and humankind ravaged by floods, fires, rising sea levels and global warming. Along with that come divides created by economics and technology. Many of these themes reverberate in this month’s issue.
From South Australia, Meredith Stephens writes of marine life dying due to algal growth caused by rising water temperatures in the oceans — impact of global warming. She has even seen a dead dolphin and a variety of fishes swept up on the beach, victims of the toxins that make the ocean unfriendly for current marine life. One wonders how much we will be impacted by such changes! And then there is technology and the chatbot taking over normal human interactions as described by Farouk Gulsara. Is that good for us? If we perhaps stop letting technology take over lives as Gulsara and Jun A. Alindogan have contended, it might help us interact to find indigenous solutions, which could impact the larger framework of our planet. Alindogan has also pointed out the technological divide in Philippines, where some areas get intermittent or no electricity. And that is a truth worldwide — lack of basic resources and this technological divide.
On the affluent side of such divides are moving to a new planet, discussions on immortality — Amortals[1] by Harari’s definition, life and death by euthanasia. Ratnottama Sengupta brings to us a discussion on death by choice — a privilege of the wealthy who pay to die painlessly. The discussion on whether people can afford to live or die by choice lies on the side of the divide where basic needs are not an issue, where homes have not been destroyed by bombs and where starvation is a myth, where climate change is not wrecking villages with cloudbursts. In Kashmir, we can find a world where many issues exist and violences are a way of life. In the midst of such darkness, a bit of kindness and more human interactions as described by Gower Bhat in ‘The Man from Pulwama’ goes some way in alleviating suffering. Perhaps, we can take a page of the life of such a man. In the middle of all the raging storms, Devraj Singh Kalsi brings in a bit of humour or rather irony with his strange piece on his penchant for syrups, a little island removed from conflicts which seem to rage through this edition though it does raise concerns that affect our well-being.
Parichha has also reviewed a book by another contemporary Odia woman author, Snehaprava Das. The collection of short stories is called Keep it Secret. Madhuri Kankipati has discussed O Jungio’s The Kite of Farewells: Stories from Nagaland and Somdatta Mandal has written about Chhimi Tenduf-La’s A Hiding to Nothing, a novel by a global Tibetan living in Sri Lanka with the narrative between various countries. We have an interview with a global nomad too, Neeman Sobhan, who finds words help her override borders. In her musing on Ostia Antica, a historic seaside outside Rome, Sobhan mentions how the town was abandoned because of the onset of anopheles mosquitos. Will our cities also get impacted in similar ways because of the onset of global ravages induced by climate change? This musing can be found as a book excerpt from Abiding City: Ruminations from Rome, her book on her life as a global nomad. The other book excerpt is by a well-known writer who has also lived far from where he was born, MA Aldrich. His book,From Rasa to Lhasa: The Sacred Center of the Mandala is said to be “A sweeping, magnificent biography—which combines historical research, travel-writing and discussion of religion and everyday culture—Old Lhasa is the most comprehensive account of the fabled city ever written in English.”
With that, we come to our fiction section. This time we truly have stories from around the globe with Suzanne Kamata sending a story set in the Bon festival that’s being celebrated in Japan this week for her column. From there, we move to Taiwan with C. J. Anderson-Wu’s narrative reflecting disappearances during the White Terror (1947-1987), a frightening period for people stretched across almost four decades. Gigi Gosnell writes of the horrific abuse faced by a young Filipino girl as the mother works as a domestic helper in Dubai. Paul Mirabile gives us a cross-cultural narrative about a British who opts to become a dervish. While Hema R touches on women’s issues from within India, Sahitya Akademi Award Winner, Naramsetti Umamaheshwararao, writes a story about children.
With such hope growing out of a neolithic burial chamber, maybe there is hope for life to survive despite all the bleakness we see around us. Maybe, with a touch of magic and a sprinkle of realism – our sense of hope, faith and our ability to adapt to changes, we will survive for yet another millennia.
We wind up our content for the August issue with the eternal bait for our species — hope. Huge thanks to the fantastic team at Borderless and to all our wonderful writers. Truly grateful to Sohana Manzoor for her artwork and many thanks to all our wonderful readers for their time…
The brown water swirls, Waves grow and break. Huge trees are tossed like toothpicks. Water flows over the weir. And the rain continues to fall. The brown water, heavy with sand, Scours the riverbanks. The water rises and broils. Nothing is safe. And the rain continues to fall. They say it’s a hundred-year storm, They say it’s a thousand-year storm. They say it’s the changing climate. They say the rain will stop. And the rain continues to fall. The brown water has secrets, terrible secrets. Friends need to know, Sisters need to grieve, Parents struggle with why? Why? And the rain continues to fall. And the rain continues to fall.
From Public Domain
Ron Pickett is a retired naval aviator with over 250 combat missions and 500 carrier landings. His 90-plus articles have appeared in numerous publications. He enjoys writing fiction and has published five books: Perfect Crimes – I Got Away with It, Discovering Roots, Getting Published, EMPATHS, and Sixty Odd Short Stories.
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PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL
The story of Hawakal Publishers, based on a face-to-face tête-à-tête, and an online conversation with founder Bitan Chakrabortywith his responses in Bengali translated by Kiriti Sengupta. Clickhere to read.
The Great War is over And yet there is left its vast gloom. Our skies, light and society’s soul have been overcast…
'The Great War is Over' by Jibanananda Das (1899-1954), translated from Bengali by Professor Fakrul Alam.
Jibanananda Das wrote the above lines in the last century and yet great wars rage even now. As the world struggles to breathe looking for a beam of hope to drag itself out of the darkness induced by natural calamities, accidents, terror attacks and wars that seem to rage endlessly, are we moving towards the dystopian scenario created by George Orwell in 1984, which would be around the same time as Jibanananda Das’s ‘The Great War is Over’?
Describing such a scenario, Ahmed Rayees writes a moving piece from the Kashmiri village of Sheeri, the last refuge of the displaced refugees who were bombarded after peace was declared in their refuge during the clash across Indo-Pak borders. He contends: “People walked back not to homes, but to ruins. Entire communities had been reduced to ash and rubble. Crops were destroyed, livestock gone, schools turned into shelters or craters. How do you rebuild a life when all that remains is dust?”
People could be asking the same questions without finding answers in Gaza or Ukraine, where the cities are reduced to rubble. While we look for a ray of sunshine, amidst the rubble, Farouk Gulsara muses on hope that has its roots in eternity. Vela Noble wanders on nostalgic beaches in Adelaide. And Meredith Stephens travels to the Australian outback. Devraj Singh Kalsi brings in lighter notes writing of driving lessons while Suzanne Kamata creeps back to darker recesses musing on likely ‘criminals’ and crimes in her neighbourhood.
Lopamudra Nayak writes on social media and its impact while Bhaskar Parichha writes of trends that could be brought into Odia literature. What he writes could apply well to all regional literature, where they lose their individual colouring to paint dystopian realities of the present world. Does modernising make us lose our ethnic identity and how important is that? These are questions that sprung to the mind reading his essay. As if in an attempt to hold on to the past ethos, Prithvijeet Sinha wafts around old ruins in Lucknow and sees a cemetery for colonial soldiers and concludes: “Everybody has formidable stakes, and the dead don’t preach the gospel of victory or sombre defeat.”
We have mainly poetry in translation this time. Snehaprava Das has brought to us Soubhagyabanta Maharana’s poems from Odia and Ihlwha Choi has translated his own poem from Korean. Sangita Swechcha’s poem in Nepali has been rendered to English by Saudamini Chalise. From Bengali, other that Jibanananda Das’s poems translated by Professor Fakrul Alam, we have Tagore’s pensive and beautiful poem, Sonar Tori (the golden boat). Yet another Bengali poet, one who died young and yet left his mark, Sukanta Bhattacharya (1926-1947), has been translated by Kiriti Sengupta. Sengupta has also translated the responses of Bitan Chakravarty in a candid conversation about his dream child — the Hawakal Publishers. We also have a feature on this based on a face-to-face conversation, giving the story of how this publishing house grew out of an idea. Now, they publish poetry traditionally, without costs to the poet. Their range of authors are spread across continents.
Our fiction again returns to the darkness of war. Young Leishilembi Terem has given a story set in conflict-ridden Manipur from where she has emerged safely — a story that reiterates the senselessness of violence and politics. While Jeena R. Papaadi writes of modern human relationships that end without commitment, Naramsetti Umamaheswararao relates a value-based story in a small hamlet of southern India.
We have more content. Do pause by our contents page and take a look.
Huge thanks to all our contributors without who this issue would not have materialised. Heartfelt thanks to the team at Borderless for their support, especially Sohana Manzoor for her iconic artwork that has almost become a signature statement for Borderless.
Let’s hope that next month brings better news for the whole world.
A lone hawk circles, Searching the neighbourhood. Searching for a gopher, a rat, a vole, a fledgling bird! Sometimes it is joined by a smaller hawk. Likely Red-tailed, possibly Cooper’s, They soar and dip and turn – hunting, watching. They are not alone. First one, then four more crows join them. Circling, seeking support from their fellows, Looking for weakness, inattention. They turn, climb, glide, dodge. The crows are a team, they take turns. Attacking the hawk from the rear. A dog fight by birds. The fight continues, turning, climbing, ducking, pecking. One crow leaves, followed by another. The three crows continue their attacks, They disappear behind the Gum trees. I’ll see them again tomorrow.
Ron Pickett is a retired naval aviator with over 250 combat missions and 500 carrier landings. His 90-plus articles have appeared in numerous publications. He enjoys writing fiction and has published five books: Perfect Crimes – I Got Away with It, Discovering Roots, Getting Published, EMPATHS, and Sixty Odd Short Stories.
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PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL
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. Clickhere to read.
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. Clickhere to read.
Borderless 