Swopno – Borderless

Borderless, September 2026

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.

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

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

In Tagore’s Dreamworld…

DREAM

Far, far away,
In my dreamworld, I travelled to Ujjainipur.
I went to the banks of the Shipra River
To look for my last life’s first love.
Her anklets jingled as she walked
Powdered with pollen, holding a lotus,
Jasmines in her ears,
Jhanti flowers in her hair, dressed in red.
I had returned one spring,
Finding the path, traveling from afar.

In the temple of Mahakal,
Evening prayers were being chanted.
The market was deserted. A streak of light
Irradiated the darkness above the palace.

A serpentine, narrow, lonely path
Led to my beloved’s home.
On her doors, framed by two saplings,
Were painted a conch and a chakra.
On a white marble arch,
Sat a statue of an arrogant lion.

My beloved’s pigeons returned home.
Her peacocks slept on golden rods.
Meanwhile, holding a lamp,
Descended my Malavika.
Between the staircase and doorway,
The evening star peeped in.
The fragrance of her body and hair
Filled my breath with agitated yearning.
Her garments rustled to reveal a motif
With sandalwood paste on her left breast.
Like a deity she graced the gloaming.
The city’s rumour mills stopped silent.

My beloved
Placed the lamp slowly by the door.
She came to me, held my hand in hers,
Silently, asked with melancholic tenderness,
“Oh friend! Are you well?” Gazing at her,
I wanted to talk but lost my words.
I forgot my eloquence as together,
We dwelled on each other — I cannot recall—
We both longed for togetherness
As our speechless tears flowed endlessly.

Together, we pondered by the saplings.
I do not know what came to pass
but her soft hands hid themselves
in my right one like a young bird
seeking its nest in the dusk.
Her face bowed like a lotus stem
on my chest with sad restlessness.
Pensively, we met with silent breath.

In the darkness of the night

I lost myself in Ujjaini completely.
The lamp by the door
Was blown off by a distant breeze.
By the banks of the Shipra River,
The worship stopped in Shiva’s temple.