Tag: Sonar Tori

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Editorial

‘I wondered should I go or should I stay…’

I flow and fly
with the wind further
still; through time
and newborn worlds…

--‘Limits’ by Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal

In winters, birds migrate. They face no barriers. The sun also shines across fences without any hindrance. Long ago, the late Nirendranath Chakraborty (1924-2018) wrote about a boy, Amalkanti, who wanted to be sunshine. The real world held him back and he became a worker in a dark printing press. Dreams sometimes can come to nought for humanity has enough walls to keep out those who they feel do not ‘belong’ to their way of life or thought. Some even war, kill and violate to secure an exclusive existence. Despite the perpetuation of these fences, people are now forced to emigrate not only to find shelter from the violences of wars but also to find a refuge from climate disasters. These people — the refuge seekers— are referred to as refugees[1]. And yet, there are a few who find it in themselves to waft to new worlds, create with their ideas and redefine norms… for no reason except that they feel a sense of belonging to a culture to which they were not born. These people are often referred to as migrants.

At the close of this year, Keith Lyons brings us one such persona who has found a firm footing in New Zealand. Setting new trends and inspiring others is a writer called Harry Ricketts[2]. He has even shared a poem from his latest collection, Bonfires on the Ice. Ricketts’ poem moves from the personal to the universal as does the poetry of another migrant, Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal, aspiring to a new, more accepting world. While Tulip Chowdhury — who also moved across oceans — prays for peace in a war torn, weather-worn world:

I plant new seeds of dreams
for a peaceful world of tomorrow.

--‘Hopes and Dreams’ by Tulip Chowdhury

We have more poems this month that while showcasing the vibrancy of thoughts bind with the commonality of felt emotions on a variety of issues from Laila Brahmbhatt, John Grey, Saba Zahoor, Diane Webster, Gautham Pradeep, Daniel Gene Barlekamp, Annwesa Abhipsa Pani, Cal Freeman, Smitha Vishwanath, John Swain, Nziku Ann and Anne Whitehouse. Ramzi Albert Rihani makes us sit up by inverting norms while Ryan Quinn Flangan with his distinctive style raises larger questions on the need for attitudinal changes while talking of car parks. Rhys Hughes sprinkles ‘Hughesque’ humour into poetry with traffic jams as he does with his funny spooky narrative around Christmas.

Fiction in this issue reverberates across the world with Marc Rosenberg bringing us a poignant telling centred around childhood, innocence and abuse. Sayan Sarkar gives a witty, captivating, climate-friendly narrative centred around trees. Naramsetti Umamaheswararao weaves a fable set in Southern India.

A story by Nasir Rahim Sohrabi from the dusty landscapes of Balochistan has found its way into our translations too with Fazal Baloch rendering it into English from Balochi. Isa Kamari translates his own Malay poems which echo themes of his powerful novels, A Song of the Wind (2007) and Tweet(2017), both centred around the making of Singapore. Snehaprava Das introduces Odia poems by Satrughna Pandab in English. While Professor Fakrul Alam renders one of Nazrul’s best-loved songs from Bengali to English, Tagore’s translated poem Jatri (Passenger) welcomes prospectives onboard a boat —almost an anti-thesis of his earlier poem ‘Sonar Tori’ (The Golden Boat) where the ferry woman rows off robbing her client.

In reviews, we also have a poetry collection, This Could Be a Love Poem for You by Ranu Uniyal discussed by Gazala Khan. Bhaskar Parichha introduces a book that dwells on aging and mental health issues, Indira Das’s Last Song before Home, translated from Bengali by Bina Biswas. Rakhi Dalal has reviewed Anuradha Kumar’s Love and Crime in the Time of Plague:A Bombay Mystery, a historical mystery novel set in the Bombay of yore, a sequel to her earlier The Kidnapping of Mark Twain. Andreas Giesbert has woven in supernatural lore into this section by introducing Ariel Slick’s The Devil Take the Blues: A Southern Gothic Novel. In our excerpts too, we have ghostly lore with an extract from Ghosted: Delhi’s Haunted Monuments by Eric Chopra. The other excerpt is from Marzia Pasini’s Leonie’s Leap, a YA novel showcasing resilience.

We have plenty of non-fiction this time starting with a tribute to Jane Austen (1775-1817) by Meenakshi Malhotra. Austen turns 250 this year and continues relevant with remakes in not only films but also reimagined with books around her novels — especially Pride and Prejudice (which has even a zombie version). Bhaskar Parichha pays a tribute to writer Bibhuti Patnaik. Ravi Varmman K Kanniappan explores ancient Sangam Literature from Tamil Nadu and Ratnottama Sengupta revisits an art exhibition that draws bridges across time… an exploration she herself curated.

Suzanne Kamata takes us on a train journey through historical Japan and Meredith Stephens finds joy in visiting friends and living in a two-hundred-year-old house from the Edo period[3]. Mohul Bhowmick introduces a syncretic and cosmopolitan Bombay (now Mumbai). Gower Bhat gives his opinion on examination systems in Kashmir, which echoes issues faced across the world while Jun A. Alindogan raises concerns over Filipino norms.

Farouk Gulsara — with his dry humour — critiques the growing dependence on artificial intelligence (or the lack of it). Devraj Singh Kalsi again shares a spooky adventure in a funny vein while Malachi Edwin Vethamani woos us with syncretic colours of Christmas during his childhood in Brickfields, Malaysia — a narrative woven with his own poems and nostalgia.

We have a spray of colours from across almost all the continents in our pages this time. A bumper issue again — for which all of the contributors have our heartfelt thanks. Huge thanks to our fabulous team who pitch in to make a vibrant issue for all of us. A special thanks to Sohana Manzoor for the fabulous artwork. And as our readers continue to grow in numbers by leap and bounds, I would want to thank you all for visiting our content! Introduce your friends too if you like what you find and do remember to pause by this issue’s contents page.

Wish all of you happy reading through the holiday season!

Best wishes,

Mitali Chakravarty

borderlessjournal.com

CLICK HERE TO ACCESS THE CONTENTS FOR THE DECEMBER 2025 ISSUE.

[1] UNHCR Refugees

[2] Harry Ricketts born and educated in  England moved to New Zealand.

[3] Edo period in Japan (1603-1868)

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Categories
Tagore Translations

Jatri or Passenger by Rabindranath

Jatri (Passenger) was a part of Tagore’s collection, Khanika (moments), published in 1900.

Art by Sohana Manzoor
PASSENGER

 There’s place on my ferry. 
You are alone. You have 
      Only one bundle of paddy. 
It may be a bit crammed, 
But not that heavily jammed. 
My ferry could be
  A bit overloaded —
      But you don’t have to leave.
            There’s a place for you! 
            
    Come, come to my boat! 
If your feet are dusty, 
     Let them be mud-coated. 
Your body is like a creeper.
Your eyes are restless.
Your garb’s blue-green,
       Flowing like water —
          There’ll always be place for you —
                      Come, come to my boat! 

            
             There are many passengers.
      Their destinations are varied. 
         They are all strangers.
You’ll also for a while
Sit on my ferry 
Till the end of the ride.
          A denial will make no difference —
             If you want to come, join us.
                  There are many passengers. 
      
   Where’s your jetty? 
Where’s the store
    For your paddy? 
If you do not state,  
What will be our fate? 
I’ll have to ponder
         At the end of the ride —
             Where’s your shore,
                   Where’s your home?

*The interesting thing about this poem is that it seems to be complete reversal of the poem Sonar Tori(Golden Boat), published in 1894, with the ferryman welcoming passengers aboard, whereas in the earlier poem, the ferry woman sails off with the bundle of paddy belonging to another, leaving her passenger behind.

This poem has been translated from Bengali by Mitali Chakravarty with editorial input by Sohana Manzoor 

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

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Categories
Tagore Translations

Childhood’s Dusk by Rabindranth Tagore

Shaishabshandha (Childhood’s Dusk) was published as a part of Tagore’s poetry collection called Sonar Tori (Golden Boat, 1894).

Art by Sohana Manzoor 
CHILDHOOD'S DUSK 

Slowly, across all horizons 
    Spreads the weary exhaustion 
    Of darkness like a mother’s anchal*.
    Standing alone, I gaze steadily
    At the west, absolutely still. 
    I contemplate fixedly 
    The bottomless abyss, 
    The lonely riverside with a
    Dusky sky. Dawn weeps, 
    As deep gloom sweeps 
With tired eyes, compassionately, 
    Silently over the water and land
    In this gloaming. 
    Suddenly, a song bursts forth 
    From the dark woods, the village paths, 
    Perhaps, from a youth returning home. 
    Uplifting, peaceful, fearless notes 
    Resonate in tune as if sharply 
    Slicing the twilight in two. 
    I cannot see him. I see a village 
    In the southern part. Amidst the lonely 
Bamboo woods, the sugarcane fields,          
    The betel nut and banana trees, 
    There rests a village. I can see that. 
Perhaps, it’s a cowherd’s son 
    Singing on his way home. 
    He does not think much 
    Except of a full stomach. 
    He brings back that dusk in my childhood:
    We talked, played — three friends —
    While we lay on the bed. 
    That was in the distant past. 
Has the world not aged? 
     Have we exchanged our childhood, 
     Our games, our toys, our restful 
     slumber for the burden of knowledge? 
     Standing on this lonely field, 
     When silence fills the gloaming, 
     Hearing this song, I recall — 
    The riverbanks, the mango groves, 
     The brass bells ringing in temples, 
     The mustard fields, by the pond, 
Smiling faces in many homes, 
    Young hearts filled with new hopes, 
      Impossible, beautiful imaginings, 
      Priceless dreams, endless desires
     And beliefs. Standing in the dark, 
     I see among stars, the infinite universe — 
     Many young at home abed, 
    Their mother’s face lit by the lamp.



*Loose end of a sari

This poem has been translated from Bengali by Mitali Chakravarty with editorial input from Sohana Manzoor.

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

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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

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Categories
Editorial

‘How do you rebuild a life when all that remains is dust?’

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.”

Taking up a similar theme of death and war is a poem from Saranyan BV. In poetry, we have colours from around the world with poems from Allan Lake, Ron Pickett, Ananya Sarkar, George Freek, Jim Bellamy, Ryan Quinn Flanagan, Juairia Hossain, Gautham Pradeep, Jenny Middleton, Mandavi Choudhary and many more. Multiple themes are woven into a variety of perspectives, including nature and environment, with June hosting the World Environment Day. Rhys Hughes gives a funny poem on the Welsh outlaw, Twm Siôn Cati.

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. 

From stories, our book excerpts return to the real world, where a daughter grieves her father in Mohua Chinappa’s Thorns in My Quilt: Letters from a Daughter to Her Father while Wendy Doniger’s The Cave of Echoes: Stories about Gods, Animals and Other Strangers, dwells on demystifying structures that create borders. We have two non-fiction reviews. Parichha writes about David C Engerman’s Apostles of Development: Six Economists and the World They Made. And Satya Narayan Misra discusses Bakhtiyar K Dadabhoy’s Honest John – A Life of John Matthai. Somdatta Mandal this time explores a historical fiction based around the founding of Calcutta, Madhurima Vidyarthi’s Job Charnock and the Potter’s Boy while Rakhi Dalal looks at fiction born of environmental awareness, Dhruba Hazarika’s The Shoot: Stories.

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.

Best wishes,

Mitali Chakravarty

borderlessjournal.com

Click here to access the contents for the June 2025 Issue

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

Categories
Tagore Translations

The Golden Boat or Sonar Tori by Rabindranath Tagore

Sonar Tori (Golden Boat) is the titular poem of Tagore’s book of the same name. This celebrated collection was first published in 1894.

Art by Rabindranath Tagore. From Public domain 
Amidst dense clouds and heavy downpour,
Without any hope of respite, I sit on the shore. 
        Many sheaves of rice are piled in droves,
                 Housed in straw-built stores.
The river's edge is like a razor as the water flows,
                    Torrential and ferocious. 
While the rice was being cut, it started to pour. 

         I have a small field, and I work alone. 
    The water sways on all sides and overflows. 
           On the other shore’s horizon,
                     I see etched 
              A village under the shadow of trees 
                 Covered in misty morning clouds. 
   On this shore, I am alone in this small field. 

Someone is singing and rowing to this side. 
    Looks like, I might know her. 
           Without glancing around, 
            She rows past in full sail.   
            The waves helplessly 
                  Part to give way— 
      Looks like, I might know her. 

Oh where do you row, to which foreign land? 
       Come to me in your boat. 
            Go wherever you want, 
              Give to whoever you desire, 
                      Only, do take
                       With a smile, 
            My golden crop from this shore. 
           
 Take as much as you wish into your boat. 
      Is there anymore? — There’s none left. 
                           By the river, 
               I stashed into the boat
              All that I had done in my life 
                  In bundles —
Now, please be merciful and take me along. 

I have no place. The boat is too small. 
It is filled with my crop of golden paddy. 
                 Surrounded by heavy 
                  Monsoon clouds,
                  I stayed by the 
                     Lonely shore — 
Whatever I had was taken away by the golden boat.
Art by Sohana

This poem has been translated from Bengali by Mitali Chakravarty with editorial input from Sohana Manzoor.

.

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