Tag: Tagore

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Greetings from Borderless

We wish You a Happy New Year

The year 2023 seemed to have been hard on all of us. Wars in the post-pandemic world, weapons and armies that destroy innocent civilian lives have taken the centre stage, vying with climate disasters, refugees, senseless shootings and unrest.  Amidst this gloom and doom, we need hope — a gleam of light to help us find solutions towards a peaceful world. Let us give the newborn 2024 a fair chance towards its own wellbeing with cheer and laughter. Let’s laugh away our troubles and find the inner strength to move forward towards a better future where people live in harmony… perhaps to hum and recall Paul Mc Cartney’s wise words in ‘Ebony and Ivory'(1982)…

We all know that people are the same wherever you go 
There is good and bad in ev'ryone
We learn to live, when we learn to give 
Each other what we need to survive, together alive

A solution to find that hidden strength within us is given to us by a bard who we cherish, Rabindranath Tagore. He suggests a panacea in his poem, Tomar Kachhe Shanti Chabo Na (I Will Not Pray to You for Peace): 

....
Amidst this wave of conflict, 
In the haze of the games you script, 
            I will swing towards my own dream. 

            Let the breeze blow off the lamplight,
            Let storms thunder in the sky —
Every moment in my heart,
I can sense your footfall. 
             In darkness, I strive to find my stream.

In that spirit, we look inward not just to find our dreams and materialise them, but also into the treasure chests of Borderless Journal to find writings that bring a smile to our lips. Tagore, translated by Fakrul Alam and Somdatta Mandal, leads the way as we start with humour and wonder in poetry and meander into a few prose pieces that evoke laughter, at times upending our current stream of thoughts or values. We move on to our three columnists, Rhys Hughes, Devraj Singh Kalsi and Suzanne Kamata, who bring laughter and uncover the nuances of the world around us on a monthly basis. Included also are the pieces by our travelling granny, Sybil Pretious, whose spirited travels prove that age is just a number. Capturing the spirit of diversity with a tinge of laughter, let us usher in the new year to a more hopeful and sturdy start.  

Poetry

Giraffe’s Dad by Tagore: Giraffer Baba (Giraffe’s Dad), a short humorous poem by Tagore, has been translated from Bengali by Professor Fakrul Alam. Click here to read.

Dangermouse by Ryan Quinn Flanagan. Click here to read. 

A Poem About Mysore by Rhys Hughes. Click here to read.

Voice of the Webb by Ron Pickett.  Click here to read.

The Writer on the Hill by Kisholoy Roy.  Click here to read.

Philosophical Fragments by Don Webb. Click here to read.

A Blob of Goo? by Wilda Morris. Click here to read.

Dino Poems by Richard Stevenson.   Click here to read.

Rani Pink by Carol D’Souza. Click here to read.

Walking Gretchums by Saptarshi Bhattacharya. Click here to read.

The Decliner by Santosh Bakaya. Click here to read.

Prose

Travels & Holidays: Humour from Rabindranath: Translated from the original Bengali by Somdatta Mandal, these are Tagore’s essays and letters laced with humour. Click here to read.

Humbled by a Pig: Farouk Gulsara meets a wild pig while out one early morning and muses on the ‘meeting’. Click here to read. 

Leo Messi’s Magic Realism: Sports fan Saurabh Nagpal explores the magic realism in famous footballer Messi’s play with a soupçon of humour. Click here to read.

I am a Jalebi: Arjan Batth tells us why he identifies with an Indian sweetmeat. Click here to read why.

A Day at Katabon Pet Shop , a short story set amidst the crowded streets of Dhaka, by Sohana Manzoor. Click here to read.

Columns

Poets, Poetry & Rhys Hughes… Click here to read.

Musings of a Copywriter by Devraj Singh Kalsi … Click here to read.

Adventures of a Backpacking Granny by Sybil Pretious… Click here to read.

Notes from Japan by Suzanne Kamata … Click here to read.

Categories
Festive Special

Goodwill and Peace on Christmas

Nativity of Christ, painted in the Mughal empire, around 1800 AD

“The central celebration is the birth of a child. There is no culture that does not celebrate this event, because all of us who belong to the human race can see our collective future in the pudgy little face. We marvel at this conjuring act, the miniature miracle, at its tiny fingernails and budlike nose.” — Jerry Pinto, Indian Christmas: Essays, Memoirs, Hymns, an anthology edited by Jerry Pinto and Madhulika Liddle

Christmas centres around the birth of a child who impacted a large part of the world and urged us to love others despite differences, to be kind, to embrace those who suffered… and that is the spirit that continues to unite humankind to move towards a future where people thrive in harmony, with love in their hearts. Despite all the darkness that broods over the world, Christmas has come around. The sun still moves forward in time and at some point, the darkness will give way to light. Perhaps, Christmas will remind people of the values they need to uphold to live in a world that is not filled with fear, greed or the lust for power and they will stop killing ruthlessly and without any sense of coherence. With that in mind, we have tried to evoke the spirit of Christmas cheer by presenting writings that talk of celebrations.

This is a season that should be filled with hope, goodwill, peace and love. The celebrations — depicting variety, a departure from conventional norms — by writers who reach across borders and time, rekindle our belief in the wonder created by these values, which is what Christmas is all about. We start with Tagore, a Brahmo by religion but his poem in English dwells on the wonder he feels at the idea of this unique birth of Christ. Our other writers from across the world pitch in with what Christmas means to all of them, whether it creates a sense of goodwill, nostalgia, invokes curiosity or just evokes plain laughter. Hopefully, we can all join together to ring the bells of kindness, love, humanitarian help and peace this year!

Poetry

An excerpt from Rabindranath Tagore’s ‘The Child‘ a poem originally written in English by the poet to celebrate Christmas. Click here to read.

One Star by Ihlawha Choi. Click here to read.

Christmas Cheer by Malachi Edwin Vethamani. Click here to read.

Prose

Indian Christmas: Essays, Memoirs, Hymns, an anthology edited by Jerry Pinto and Madhulika Liddle has been discussed by Somdatta Mandal. Click here to read.

In I Went to Kerala, Rhys Hughes treads a humorous path while exploring Christmas in Kerala. Click here to read.

In Hold the Roast Turkey Please Santa , Keith Lyons writes from New Zealand, where summer solstice and Christmas fall around the same time. Click here to read.

In My Christmas Eve “Alone”, Erwin Coomb has a strange encounter on Christmas eve… Is it real? Click here to read. 

Nativity, a fresco by Italian artist Boticelli, created around 1467
Categories
Contents

Borderless, December 2023

Art by Sohana Manzoor

Editorial

Celebrating the Child & Childhood… Click here to read.

Special Tributes

An excerpt from Rabindranath Tagore’s ‘The Child‘, a poem originally written in English by the poet. Click here to read.

Vignettes from an Extraordinary Life: A Historical Dramatisation by Aruna Chakravarti… Click here to read.

Conversations

A conversation with the author, Afsar Mohammed, and a brief introduction to his latest book, Remaking History: 1948 Police Action and the Muslims of Hyderabad. Click here to read.

A conversation with Meenakshi Malhotra over The Gendered Body: Negotiation, Resistance, Struggle, edited by Meenakshi Malhotra, Krishna Menon and Rachana Johri and a brief introduction to the book. Click here to read.

Translations

The Monk Who Played the Guitar, a story by S Ramakrishnan, has been translated from Tamil by T Santhanam. Click here to read.

The White-Coloured Book, a poem by Quazi Johirul Islam has translated from Bengali by Professor Fakrul Alam. Click here to read.

Indecisiveness has been written and translated from Korean by Ihlwha Choi. Click here to read.

Tagore’s 1400 Saal (The Year 1993) has been translated from Bengali by Mitali Chakravarty. Click here to read.

Nazrul’s rejoinder to Tagore’s 1400 Saal has been translated from Bengali by Professor Fakrul Alam. Click here to read.

Poetry

Click on the names to read the poems

Ron Pickett, Prithvijeet Sinha, George Freek, Sutputra Radheye, Caroline Am Bergris, Thoyyib Mohammad, Kumar Bhatt, Patricia Walsh, Hamza Azhar, John Grey, Papia Sengupta, Stuart McFarlane, Padmanabha Reddy, Ryan Quinn Flanagan, Jee Leong Koh, Rhys Hughes

Poets, Poetry & Rhys Hughes

In His Unstable Shape, Rhys Hughes explores the narratives around a favourite nursery rhyme character with a pinch of pedantic(?) humour. Click here to read.

Musings/ Slices from Life

Trojan Island

Nitya Amalean writes of why she chooses to be an immigrant living out of Sri Lanka. Click here to read.

Wayward Wayanad

Mohul Bhowmick travels to the tea gardens and hills of Wayanad. Click here to read.

Musings of a Copywriter

In Visiting Cards & Me…, Devraj Singh Kalsi ponders on his perspective on the need and the future for name cards. Click here to read.

Notes from Japan

In Kyoto: Where the Cuckoo Calls, Suzanne Kamata introduces us to Kyoto. Click here to read.

Essays

Peeking at Beijing: The Epicentre of China

Keith Lyons travels to the heart of Beijing with a sense of humour and a camera. Click here to read.

To Be or Not to Be or the Benefits of Borders

Wendy Jones Nakanishi argues in favour of walls with wit and facts. Click here to read.

Where Eagles Soar

Ravi Shankar gives a photographic treat and a narrative about Langkawi. Click here to read.

Stories

Heather Richards’ Remarkable Journey

Paul Mirabile journeys into a womb of mystery set in Thailand. Click here to read.

The Untold Story

Neeman Sobhan gives us the story of a refugee from the 1971 Bangladesh Liberation War. Click here to read.

Wrath of the Goddess?

Farouk Gulsara narrates a story set in 1960s Malaya. Click here to read.

No Man’s Land

Sohana Manzoor gives us surrealistic story reflecting on after-life. Click here to read.

Book Excerpts

An excerpt from Dr Ratna Magotra’s Whispers of the Heart – Not Just A Surgeon: An Autobiography. Click here to read.

An excerpt from Manjima Misra’s The Ocean is Her Title. Click here to read.

Book Reviews

Somdatta Mandal reviews Indian Christmas: Essays, Memoirs, Hymns, an anthology edited by Jerry Pinto and Madhulika Liddle. Click here to read.

Christopher Marks reviews Veronica Eley’s The Blue Dragonfly: healing through poetry. Click here to read.

Basudhara Roy reviews Kuhu Joshi’s My Body Didn’t Come Before Me. Click here to read.

Bhaskar Parichha reviews Permacrisis: A Plan to Fix a Fractured World by Gordon Brown, Mohamed El-Erian, Michael Spence, Reid Lidow 

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

Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Kindle Amazon International

Categories
Editorial

Celebrating the Child & Childhood…

Mother & Child by Jamini Roy (1887-1972)
Mother and Child by Picasso (1881-1973)
‘Victory to Man, the newborn, the ever-living.’
They kneel down, the king and the beggar, the saint and 
the sinner, 
the wise and the fool, and cry:
‘Victory to Man, the newborn, the ever-living.’

— ‘The Child’ by Rabindranath Tagore1, written in English in 1930

This is the month— the last of a conflict-ridden year— when we celebrate the birth of a messiah who spoke of divine love, kindness, forgiveness and values that make for a better world. The child, Jesus, has even been celebrated by Tagore in one of his rarer poems in English. While we all gather amidst our loved ones to celebrate the joy generated by the divine birth, perhaps, we will pause to shed a tear over the children who lost their lives in wars this year. Reportedly, it’s a larger number than ever before. And the wars don’t end. Nor the killing. Children who survive in war-torn zones lose their homes or families or both. For all the countries at war, refugees escape to look for refuge in lands that are often hostile to foreigners. And yet, this is the season of loving and giving, of helping one’s neighbours, of sharing goodwill, love and peace. On Christmas this year, will the wars cease? Will there be a respite from bombardments and annihilation?

We dedicate this bumper year-end issue to children around the world. We start with special tributes to love and peace with an excerpt from Tagore’s long poem, ‘The Child‘, written originally in English in 1930 and a rendition of the life of the philosopher and change-maker, Vivekananda, by none other than well-known historical fiction writer, Aruna Chakravarti. The poem has been excerpted from Indian Christmas: Essays, Memoirs, Hymns, an anthology edited by Jerry Pinto and Madhulika Liddle, a book that has been reviewed by Somdatta Mandal and praised for its portrayal of the myriad colours and flavours of Christmas in India. Christ suffered for the sins of humankind and then was resurrected, goes the legend. Healing is a part of our humanness. Suffering and healing from trauma has been brought to the fore by Christopher Marks’ perspective on Veronica Eley’s The Blue Dragonfly: healing through poetry. Basudhara Roy has also written about healing in her take of Kuhu Joshi’s My Body Didn’t Come Before Me. Bhaskar Parichha has reviewed a book that talks of healing a larger issue — the crises that humanity is facing now, Permacrisis: A Plan to Fix a Fractured World, by ex-British Prime Minister Gordon Brown, Nobel Laureate Michael Spence, Mohamed El-Erian and Reid Lidow. Parichha tells us that it suggests solutions to resolve the chaos the world is facing — perhaps a book that the world leadership would do well to read. After all, the authors are of their ilk! Our book excerpts from Dr Ratna Magotra’s Whispers of the Heart – Not Just A Surgeon: An Autobiography and Manjima Misra’s The Ocean is Her Title are tinged with healing and growth too, though in a different sense.

The theme of the need for acceptance, love and synchronicity flows into our conversations with Afsar Mohammad, who has recently authored Remaking History: 1948 Police Action and the Muslims of Hyderabad. He shows us that Hyderabadi tehzeeb or culture ascends the narrow bounds set by caged concepts of faith and nationalism, reaffirming his premise with voices of common people through extensive interviews. In search of a better world, Meenakshi Malhotra talks to us about how feminism in its recent manifestation includes masculinities and gender studies while discussing The Gendered Body: Negotiation, Resistance, Struggle, edited by her, Krishna Menon and Rachana Johri. Here too, one sees a trend to blend academia with non-academic writers to bring focus on the commonalities of suffering and healing while transcending national boundaries to cover more of South Asia.

That like Hyderabadi tehzeeb, Bengali culture in the times of Tagore and Nazrul dwelled in commonality of lore is brought to the fore when in response to the Nobel laureate’s futuristic ‘1400 Saal’ (‘The year 1993’), his younger friend responds with a poem that bears not only the same title but acknowledges the older man as an “emperor” among versifiers. Professor Fakrul Alam has not only translated Nazrul’s response, named ‘1400 Saal’ aswell, but also brought to us the voice of another modern poet, Quazi Johirul Islam. We have a self-translation of a poem by Ihlwha Choi from Korean and a short story by S Ramakrishnan in Tamil translated by T Santhanam.

Our short stories travel with migrant lore by Farouk Gulsara to Malaysia, from UK to Thailand with Paul Mirabile while chasing an errant son into the mysterious reaches of wilderness, with Neeman Sobhan to Rome, UK and Bangladesh, reflecting on the Birangonas (rape victims) of the 1971 Bangladesh Liberation war, an issue that has been taken up in Malhotra’s book too. Sobhan’s story is set against the backdrop of a war which was fought against linguistic hegemony and from which we see victims heal. Sohana Manzoor this time has not only given us fabulous artwork but also a fantasy hovering between light and dark, life and death — an imaginative fiction that makes a compelling read and questions the concept of paradise, a construct that perhaps needs to be found on Earth, rather than after death.

The unusual paradigms of life and choices made by all of us is brought into play in an interesting non-fiction by Nitya Amlean, a young Sri Lankan who lives in UK. We travel to Kyoto with Suzanne Kamata, to Beijing with Keith Lyons, to Wayanad with Mohul Bhowmick and to Langkawi with Ravi Shankar. Wendy Jones Nakanishi argues in favour of borders with benevolent leadership. Tongue-in-cheek humour is exuded by Devraj Singh Kalsi as he writes of his attempts at using visiting cards as it is by Rhys Hughes in his exploration of the truth about the origins of the creature called Humpty Dumpty of nursery rhyme fame.

Poetry again has humour from Hughes. A migrant himself, Jee Leong Koh, brings in migrant stories from Singaporeans in US. We have poems of myriad colours from Ryan Quinn Flanagan, Patricia Walsh, John Grey, Kumar Bhatt, Ron Pickett, Prithvijeet Sinha, Sutputra Radheye, George Freek and many more. Papia Sengupta ends her poem with lines that look for laughter among children and a ‘life without borders’ drawn by human constructs in contrast to Jones Nakanishi’s need for walls with sound leadership. The conversation and dialogues continue as we look for a way forward, perhaps with Gordon Brown’s visionary book or with Tagore’s world view of lighting the inner flame in each human. We can hope that a way will be found. Is it that tough to influence the world using words? We can wish — may there be no need for any more Greta Thunbergs to rise in protest for a world fragmented and destroyed by greed and lack of vision. We hope for peace and love that will create a better world for our children.

As usual, we have more content than mentioned here. All our pieces can be accessed on the contents’ page. Do pause by and take a look. This bumper issue would not have been possible without the contribution of all the writers and our fabulous team from Borderless. Huge thanks to them all and to our wonderful readers who continue to encourage us with their comments and input.

Here’s wishing you all wonderful new adventures in the New Year that will be born as this month ends!

Mitali Chakravarty

borderlessjournal.com

  1. Indian Christmas: Essays, Memoirs, Hymns edited by Jerry Pinto & Madhulika Liddle ↩︎

Click here to access the content’s page for the December 2023 issue

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

Categories
Nazrul Translations

Nazrul’s Response to Tagore

Nazrul’s response to Tagore’s “1400 Saal or The Year 1400” (1993 in the Gregorian calendar) written about 32 years after the first poem was published (1896), translated by Professor Fakrul Alam

Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941)
Kazi Nazrul Islam (1899-1976)
1400 SAAL OR The YEAR 1993

A hundred years ago
O poet, you had thought of us
              With such immense affection,
A hundred years ago!

Mystical one; child of mystery,
Taking off the cloak covering your eyes,
When did you arrive from some far-off haven?
Heading from the south and opening a window of our house,
          O secret stroller into our dreams,
                 You came with the fragrance wafted by the spring breeze,
To where a hundred years later I was reading your poem
                                                At nighttime.			       
An absent-minded butterfly, you saw us with pain-brightened and moist eyes—
With silent wings,
Fluttering casually, you went languidly away.
And we, a hundred years later,
Keep reading your poem, dyed in the tenderness of youth,
                             With rapt attention, affectionately.
In a reverie, and sleepy, with eyes drooping,
My beloved listens to your prophetic song
                             With tear-moistened eyes.

Alas, to this day,
              The shut southern window
                      Opens again and again.
The restless spring breeze cries out in pent up pain.
          In minds and forests and in murmuring blossoms,
Moist flowers shed from their braided beds,
                             Again and again.

The dark eyelids of the blossoms keep fluttering softly.
The female bee snatches honey from the beak of her mate.
     
      The dark-eyed buds flutter in the gentle breeze.
Drenched in pollen, bees drink honey-sweetness fully.
      The she-dove loses herself at the warbling of her mate.
The forest bride has decked herself in crimson robes of youthfulness.
		Every now and then earth’s heart gasps
		At the breeze’s passionate outbursts. 

Immersed in the depth of your being, a hundred years later,
Oh sun-suffused one, I have been reading your poem,
	With immense adoration.
At your gesture I wake up to your music,
O artful one, I’ve grasped your artfulness!
			Stealthily you tiptoe
		To our far away youthful beings,
		In poetry, songs and in lush tones and colourful dreams.
		All flowers that have bloomed today—all birdsongs,
					All crimson hues,
		Caressed by you, O ever-youthful poet,
					Have become livelier!
			In the morning hours of this spring festival, 
		You’ve become the song in our youthful festivities.
		 	Once a darling child and now immortal in a bower
		All of us youthful men and women await your nuptial hour.
			Sing O dear one, sing again and again
The songs you would sing amidst blooming flowers,
Songs my beloved and I sing on our own or together, 
Songs at whose end I slide into sleep, only to hear
	In a dream appearing in a midnight hour,
	My beloved weep, “Dearest poet, friend and wise one—“
	Till my dream ends suddenly
	And I view my beloved’s eyes moisten
			Until tears trickle down her eyes.

	I remember now, how a hundred years ago
     You had stirred—and others too had awakened 		
In some far away cloistered state.
At your gesture a sad tune had spread its wings and flown.
	Glancing back from the window momentarily,
		It had caressed the tears lining your eyelids.
		It had bent the curling tresses of flower buds.
	And then vanished—leaving you sitting silently.
Moistened by the dewdrop of your eyes,
Your messages blossomed; some bloomed, 
	Some even resonated instantly,
And then were tucked away inside our dreams.

		All of a sudden a door opened
In the spring morning your greeting came through.
The envoy of spring you’d sent a hundred years ago
Filled us youthful ones with intense yearnings.

O Emperor of all poets, though we haven’t seen you,
			The Taj Mahal you created,
Sparkling like sandalwood on the forehead of time
		Entrances us and we behold it breathlessly.
We curse our youth— “Why did it have to be a hundred years later?”
				Alas, in this day and age,
We’ve never been able to glimpse Mumtaz and behold the Taj!  

A thousand years later—O emperor of poets,
New poets keep coming to sing your praise
		From sunrise to sunset songs celebrate your feats
			And the tune that wandered away from you
Fill groves and forest shades with your message anew. 

				And in our time
A hundred tunes keep sounding from veenas in our homes
	And yet the heart remains unfulfilled and the soul keeps yearning                 
Traversing a hundred years your song drifts into our dreams
			Then it occurs to me our poet
You have settled in our horizon to light it up forever—
			Our very own and eternal sun!

A hundred years ago,
You had greeted us -- young ones -- warmly,
			Vibrantly and affectionately.
The same greeting is being sent to you this day
		As a floral wreath to decorate your feet.   

O perfect poet, it seems you’ve appeared in imperfect guise
				Amidst us, softly, silently!
And with a trembling voice imperfect being that I am,
I sing your spring song in your spring bower
And send it to you a hundred years later! 

(First published in Kazi Nazrul Islam: Selections 1, edited by Niaz Zaman, Dhaka: writers.ink, 2020)

Click here to read Tagore’s 1400 Saal, the poem that inspired this beautiful response from one of the greatest poetic voices of all times.

A rendition of Nazrul’s poem in response to Tagore’s 1400 Saal in Bengali

Born in united Bengal, long before the Partition, Kazi Nazrul Islam (1899-1976) was known as the  Bidrohi Kobi, or “rebel poet”. Nazrul is now regarded as the national poet of Bangladesh though he continues a revered name in the Indian subcontinent. In addition to his prose and poetry, Nazrul wrote about 4000 songs.

Fakrul Alam is an academic, translator and writer from Bangladesh. He has translated works of Jibonananda Das and Rabindranath Tagore into English and is the recipient of Bangla Academy Literary Award (2012) for translation and SAARC Literary Award (2012).

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

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Categories
Tagore Translations

A Hundred Years Later by Rabindranath

Just as George Orwell (1903-1950) envisioned a bleak future in his novel, 1984, Tagore left his optimistic vision filled with hope for posterity – a vision which has also been borne true. Written in the Phalgun or spring of the Bengali year 1302 (1895), ‘1400 Saal‘ or ‘The Year 1993’, was first published in Tagore’s collection called Chitra (Picture) in 1895. 

Art by Sohana Manzoor
   1400 SAAL or The YEAR 1993 
 
   A hundred years from today…
  Who are you reading my poetry
     With eager curiosity? 
   A hundred years from today.
   I won’t be able to give you
   Even a small fragment of the 
 Exuberance of this spring morning —
    A blossom or a birdsong, 
        The passions that 
             Drench us.
    A hundred years from today…
 
Still, once, open your Southern door,
        Sit by the window,
   Gaze at the distant horizon,
           And imagine — 
  One day, a hundred years before,
A lively, euphoric cluster wafted from
Heaven into the heart of the universe, 
   Like a new-born Phalgun day —
Free of ties, ecstatic and restless, 
  Adrift with the scent of flowers.
      The Southern breeze 
    Rushed to colour the Earth
      With a youthful glow,
   One hundred years before you. 
On that day, the soul of a poet soared
      With a song-soaked heart —
      To find words which bloom 
      With an abundance of love,
       One hundred years ago. 
 
   A hundred years from today
   Which new poet will strum
    Lyrics in your hearths? 
 I felicitate the poet with delight
     In your joyous spring —
     But let my vernal songs,
 Find echoes in your hearts for a while,
   Like the buzz of bees, 
  Like the murmur of leaves...
  One hundred years from today...

About 32 years down the line, Nazrul responded to this poem of Tagore’s with a rejoinder, which is from the standpoint of a young poet and depicts his adulation for the older one and his poetry. Nazrul’s poem in Bengali is also called 1400 Saal and has been translated by Professor Fakrul Alam. The translation can be read by clicking here.

This poem was also discussed and translations read in 1993, the Gregorian calendar year for 1400 in the Bengali calendar, in a function jointly organised by the Nehru Centre of the High Commission of India in London and the Tagore Centre of London and held in the premises of the Nehru Centre. The translations included a rendition of Tagore’s own rather brief and ‘loosely translated’ version, according to the keynote speaker and scholar, Brian A. Hatcher, published in the poet’s collection called, The Gardener and reprinted in The Collected Poems and Plays of Rabindranath Tagore (New York, 1966).

Tagore’s own vision of his songs being remembered after one hundred years has been not only borne true but also his hope that poets and poetry will continue to impact our lives, stirring hope and love in our hearts. The role of a poet as seen by Tagore, perhaps, is what Uma Dasgupta’s research on Sriniketan reinforces — as that of a visionary and not merely a recorder of events. 

Tagore reciting his ‘1400 Saal‘ in Bangla

This poem has been translated by Mitali Chakravarty with editorial input by Sohana Manzoor and research by Sohana and Mitali on behalf of Borderless Journal

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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
Editorial

Counting Colours

Look around you and expand your heart. 
Petty sorrows are insignificant.
Fill your vacant life with love for humanity. 
The Universe reverberates with celestial ecstasy. 

— Anondodhhara Bohichche Bhubone (The Universe reverberates with celestial ecstasy), Tagore, 1894

Some of the most beautiful colours in this universe are blended shades— colours that are born out of unusual combinations. Perhaps that is why we love auroras, sunrises and sunsets. Yet, we espouse clear cut structures for comprehension. As we define constructs created by our kind, we tend to overlook the myriads of colours that hover in the gloaming, the brilliant play of lights and the vibrancy of tints that could bring joy if acknowledged. That ignoring the new-born shades or half-shades and creating absolute structures or constructs lead to wars, hatred, unhappiness and intolerance has been borne true not only historically but also by the current turn of events around the globe. While battles are never fought by the colours or beliefs themselves, they can harm — sometimes annihilate — rigid believers who are victimised for being led to accept their way as the only one and hate another. Perhaps, this has echoes of the battle between the Big Endians and Little Endians over the right way to break eggs in Jonathan Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels (1726). As the book is mere fiction, we can admire, agree and laugh at the content. However, in real life, watching newsreels has become a torture with destruction and violence being the main highlights. These detract from life as we knew it.

Writing or literary inputs seem to have become a luxury. But is it really hedonistic to play with words? Words used effectively over a period of time can impact readers to think peace, acceptance and love and also help people heal from the ensuing violence. That can be a possibility only if we self-reflect. While we look for peace, love and acceptance in others, we could start by being the change-makers and bridge builders ourselves. That is the kind of writing we have managed to gather for our November issue.

Building such bridges across humanity, we have poems on the latest Middle Eastern conflict by Stuart McFarlane and David Mellor, which explore the pain of the victims and not the politics of constructs that encourage wars, destruction of humanity, the flora, the fauna and our home, the Earth. Michael Burch writes against wars. Prithvijeet Sinha and Ahana Bhattacharjee write about refugees and the underprivileged. Reflecting colours of the world are poems from Ryan Quinn Flanagan, Suzayn AH, Radhika Soni, Ron Pickett, George Freek and many more. Rhys Hughes has brought lighter shades into his poetry by trying a new technique while reflecting on yetis and mermaids. His column tries to make a parody of a non-existing parody, using TS Eliot’s century old poem, ‘Wasteland’, with amazing results!

Our translations are all poetry too this time. Professor Fakrul Alam has translated a poem discussing human aspirations by Quazi Johirul Islam from Bengali. Another Balochi poem of hope by Bashir Baidar has been brought to us in English by Fazal Baloch bringing into play the moonlight.

For the first time, we are privileged to carry poetry from a language that has almost till now has eluded majority of Anglophone readers, Maithili. Vidyanand Jha, a Maithili poet, has translated his poetry for all of us as has Korean poet, Ihlwha Choi. Winding up translations are Tagore’s ultimate words for us to introspect and find the flame within ourselves in the darkest of times – echoing perhaps, in an uncanny way, the needs of our times.

Our conversation this month brings to us a poet who comes from a minority group in India, Banjara or gypsies, Ramesh Karthik Nayak. In his attempt to reach out to the larger world, he worries that he will lose his past. But does the past not flow into the future and is it not better for traditions to evolve? Otherwise, we could all well be living in caves… But what Nayak has done — and in a major way — is that he has brought his culture closer to our hearts. His debut poetry book in English, Chakmak (flintstones), brings to us Banjara traditions, lives and culture, which are fast getting eroded and he also visits the judgemental attitude of the majoritarian world. To give you a flavour of his poetry, we bring to you an excerpt from his book, livened beautifully with Banjara art and an essay by Surya Dhananjay that contextualises the poetry for us. Our excerpts also have a focus on poetry for we are privileged to have a few poems from Mamang Dai’s The White Shirts of Summer: New and Selected Poems. Mamang Dai is a well-known name from the North-eastern state of Arunachal Pradesh for both her journalistic and poetic prowess.

We are happy to host Ranu Uniyal’s beautiful review of I am Not the Gardener: Selected Poems by Raj Bisaria. Bisaria among other his distinctions, was named “Father of the modern theatre in North India” by the Press Trust of India. The other reviews are all of prose. Somdatta Mandal has written of Ali Akbar Natiq’s Naulakhi Kothi, a fictional saga of gigantic proportions. Anita Balakrishnan has reviewed Lakshmi Kannan’s short story collection, Guilt Trip. The book that gives hope for a green future, Akshat Rathi’s Climate Capitalism: Winning the Global Race to Zero Emissions has been reviewed by Bhaskar Parichha. Parichha contends: “Through stories that bring people, policy and technology together, Rathi reveals how the green economy is possible, but profitable. This inspiring blend of business, science, and history provides the framework for ensuring that future generations can live in prosperity.”

The anti-thesis to the theme for a welfarist approach towards Earth can be found in Koushiki Dasgupta Chaudhari’s poignant musing titled, “The Theft of a River”. Meredith Stephen’s travel to California and Sai Abhinay Penna’s narrative about Chikmagalur have overtones of climate friendliness. Ravi Shankar writes further of his travels in Peru and Peruvian coffee. Keith Lyons takes us peeking at Beijing and the Great Wall. Gayatri Devi adds to the variety by introducing us to the starry universe of South Indian cinema while Devraj Singh Kalsi brings in the much-needed humour with his narrative about his “Crush on Bottles“. Suzanne Kamata has also given a tongue-in-cheek narrative about the mystique of addresses and finding homes in Japan. We have fiction from Paul Mirabile located in England and Kalsi’s located in India. Pause by our contents page to view more gems that have not been mentioned here.

Huge thanks to our team at Borderless Journal, especially Sohana Manzoor for her fabulous artwork. This journal would not have been as it is of now without each and every one of them and our wonderful contributors and readers. Thank you all.

Wish you all a wonderful month as we head towards the end of a rather tumultuous year.

Mitali Chakravarty

borderlessjournal.com

Click here to access the contents page for the November 2023 issue

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Categories
Tagore Translations

Rabindranath’s Song about Surviving Conflicts

Tomar Kachhe Shanti Chabo Na (I Will Not Pray to You for Peace) by Tagore is a part Gitimalaya (A Garland of Songs) published in 1914.

           I Will Not Pray to You for Peace

           I will not pray to you for peace.
           Let me stay with my feeling of grief.
Amidst this wave of conflict, 
In the haze of the games you script, 
            I will swing towards my own dream. 

            Let the breeze blow off the lamplight,
            Let storms thunder in the sky —
Every moment in my heart,
I can sense your footfall. 
             In darkness, I strive to find my stream.

You can listen to the song performed in Bengali by well-known artiste Swagatalakshmi here.

This poem has been translated by Mitali Chakravarty with editorial input by Sohana Manzoor on behalf of Borderless Journal

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Categories
Festive Special

Lighting Lamps of Love

Light of mine, O light, the universe is filled with your effulgence, 
My heart is yours; my eyes drown in your refulgence. 
…. 
The sky awakens, the breeze flits, the Earth laughs. 
As luminous currents surge, thousands of butterflies take flight. 

— Aalo Amar Aalo (Light, My Light), Bichitra, 1911, Rabindranath Tagore

There was a time when lights were a part of joy and celebrations as in Tagore’s poem above. Lighting lamps, people welcomed home their beloved prince Rama on Deepavali, who returned after a fourteen year exile, and during his banishment, killed the demonic Ravana. On the same day in Bengal, lamps were lit to ward off evil and celebrate the victory of Kali, (the dark woman goddess wooed by Tantrics) over the rakshasa, Raktabeeja. In the Southern part of India, lamps were lit to celebrate the victory of Krishna over Narakasura. The reasons could be many but lights and fireworks were lit to celebrate the victory of good over evil during the festival of lights.

In the current world with lines blurred between good and evil, while climate crises seeks smoke free, coal free energy, flames of fire or fireworks are often frowned upon. In these times, we can only hope to light the lamp of love — so that differences can be settled amicably without killing the helpless and innocent, infact without violence, greed, peacefully and with kindness, keeping in mind the safety of our species and our home, the Earth. We invite you to partake of our content, writings that light the lamp of love — 

Poetry

I Gather Words by Shareefa Beegam P P. Click here to read.

The Language of Dreams by Sister Lou Ella Hickman: Click here to read.

Dreams are like Stars by Mitra Samal: Click here to read.

At Teotihuacan by Jonathan Chan: Click here to read.

Love Poetry by Gayatri Majumdar: Click here to read.

Today’s Child by Atta Shad, translated from Balochi by Fazal Baloch: Click here to read.

Endless Love, Ananto Prem (Endless Love) by Tagore, translated from Bengali by Professor Fakrul Alam. Click here to read.

Prose

Hena: a short story about love and war by Nazrul, has been translated from Bengali by Sohana Manzoor. Click here to read.

Annapurna Bhavan: Lakshmi Kannan closes class divides in Chennai over a meal. Click here to read.

Rituals in the Garden: Marcelo Medone discusses motherhood, aging and loss in this poignant flash fiction from Argentina. Click here to read.

The Tree of Life: An unusual flash fiction by Parnil Yodha about a Tibetan monk. Click here to read.

Adoption: A poignant real life story by Jeanie Kortum on adopting a child. Click here to read.

The Potato Prince: A funny but poignant love story by Sohana Manzoor. Click here to read.

A Taste of Bibimbap & More: G Venkatesh revisits the kindness he that laced his travels within Korea. Click here to read. 

Therese Schumacher and Nagayoshi Nagai: A Love Story: Suzanne Kamata introduces us to one of the first German women married to a Japanese scientist and their love story. Click here to read.

Categories
A Wonderful World

Festivals of Happiness

Durga Puja, a community- based festival. Courtesy: Creative Commons

Long ago as children, we looked forward to the autumnal festival of Durga Puja. For those who lived outside Bengal, there was no holiday but it was still a break, a season filled with joie de vivre, when family and friends would gather to celebrate the community-based festival, Durga Puja. Parallelly, many from diverse Indian cultures celebrated Navratri — also to do with Durga. On the last day of the Durga Puja, when the Goddess is said to head home, North Indians and Nepalese and some in Myanmar celebrate Dusshera or Dashain, marking the victory of Rama over Ravana, a victory he achieved by praying to the same Goddess. Perhaps, myriads of festivals bloom in this season as grains would have been harvested and people would have had the leisure to celebrate.

Over time, Durga Puja continues as important as Christmas for Bengalis worldwide, though it evolved only a few centuries ago. For the diaspora, this festival, declared “Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity” by UNESCO, is a source of joy. While devotees welcome the Goddess Durga and her children home, sons and daughters living away would use this event as a reason to visit their parents. Often, special journals featuring writings of greats, like Satyajit Ray, Tagore, Syed Mujtaba Ali, Nazrul would be circulated in the spirit of the festival.

The story around the festival gives out that like an immigrant, the married Goddess who lived with her husband, Shiva, would visit her parent’s home for five days. Her advent was called Agomoni. Aruna Chakravarti contends in her essay, Durga’s Agomoni “is an expression, pure and simple, of the everyday life of women in a rural community –their joys and sorrows; hopes and fears”. While some war and kill in the name of religion, as in the recent Middle Eastern conflict, Chakravarti, has given us an essay which shows how folk festivities in Bengal revelled in syncretism. Their origins were more primal than defined by the tenets of organised religion. And people celebrated the occasion together despite differences in beliefs, enjoying — sometimes even traveling. In that spirit, Somdatta Mandal has brought us travel writings by Tagore laced with humour. The spirit continues to be rekindled by writings of Tagore’s student, Syed Mujtaba Ali, and an interview with his translator, Nazes Afroz.

We start this special edition with translations of two writers who continue to be part of the syncretic celebrations beyond their lives, Tagore and Nazrul. Professor Fakrul Alam brings to us the theme of homecoming explored by Nazrul and Tagore describes the spirit that colours this mellow season of Autumn

Poetry

Nazrul’s Kon Kule Aaj Bhirlo Tori  ( On which shore has my boat moored today?), translated from Bengali by Professor Fakrul Alam, explores the theme of spiritual homecoming . Click here to read.

Tagore’s Amra Bedhechhi Kasher Guchho (We have Tied Bunches of Kash), translated from Bengali by Mitali Chakravarty, is a hymn to the spirit of autumn which heralds the festival of Durga Puja. Click here to read.

Prose

In The Oral Traditions of Bengal: Story and Song, Aruna Chakravarti describes the syncretic culture of Bengal through its folk music and oral traditions. Click here to read.

Somdatta Mandal translates from Bengali Travels & Holidays: Humour from Rabindranath. Both the essay and letters are around travel, a favourite past time among Bengalis, especially during this festival. Click here to read.

An excerpt of In a Land Far From Home: A Bengali in Afghanistan by Syed Mujtaba Ali, translated by Nazes Afroz. Click here to read.

Interview

A conversation with Nazes Afroz, former BBC editor, along with a brief introduction to his new translations of Syed Mujtaba Ali’s Tales of a Voyager (Jolay Dangay). Click here to read.

Durga by Jamini Roy (1887-1972)
Durga(Kalighat Pattachitra, Bengal folk art)