Tag: Telugu

The Village That Chose Trees

Post author By borderlesssg1
Post date June 15, 2026
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By Naramsetti Umamaheswararao

Every morning, the people of Greenvale woke up to the songs of birds, the rustling of leaves, and the cool shade of giant trees. The village looked fresh and beautiful in every season.

Much of this greenery existed because of two people — Mr. Ravi, the village teacher, and Grandpa Hari. They loved nature deeply. Wherever they found an empty piece of land, they planted saplings. They also encouraged everyone in the village to do the same. Soon, trees began growing in front of houses, beside pathways, and around the village pond.

One year, the government decided to build a factory near Greenvale. Officials soon arrived with a plan to widen the narrow village road and build a smooth tar road for large trucks carrying machines and goods.

But there was a problem.

Many huge neem and tamarind trees stood along the roadside. To widen the road, all of them would have to be cut down.

Some of the village youngsters said, “Roads and factories mean development. Why should we stop it?”

But Grandpa Hari stood silently beneath the trees, sadness filling his eyes. Just then, Mr. Ravi arrived.“Is cutting down so many trees the only way?” he asked the officials calmly. “There is another road around the village that can be improved instead. Development should not destroy nature.”

The officials replied, “The factory will bring jobs to your village. Why are you opposing this project?”

“We are not against progress,” Mr. Ravi explained. “We are only asking you to save these trees and use the other road.”

“That decision is beyond our control,” the officials answered. “If you wish, speak to the Minister or the District Collector. We can stop the work for two or three days. After that, we must continue unless new orders arrive.”

That evening, Mr. Ravi called for a village meeting.

“Cutting down fully grown trees,” he told the villagers, “is like destroying children we have raised with care. The world is already growing hotter. Summers are becoming harsher, rainfall is decreasing, and our ponds and wells no longer stay full throughout the year. If we lose these trees, our future will suffer even more.”

The villagers listened carefully.

“Let us request the authorities to improve the alternate road instead,” he continued. “I will prepare a petition. Together, we can protect our village.”

After many discussions, the villagers finally agreed. Everyone signed the petition, and it was sent to the Minister and the District Collector. A few days later, there had news and it was good.

The alternate road would be developed, and the trees in Greenvale would remain safe.

Mr. Ravi and Grandpa Hari were overjoyed.

Months later, the village elders decided to build a community hall. However, a large tree planted years ago by Grandpa Hari stood exactly where they wanted to build it.

“We may have to remove this tree,” the elders said.

“What difference will one tree make? The hall will help everyone.”

Grandpa Hari quietly went inside his home and returned with an old diary. Inside it was a faded photograph of him as a little boy planting the tree with his father.

“This tree is a memory of my father,” he said softly, tears shining in his eyes. “Please let it live. Build the hall around it if you wish.”

Mr. Ravi smiled and supported him.

“He is right,” the teacher told the villagers. “If we keep cutting down trees, will air conditioners save us from the dangerous heat of the future? Your parents once played under this tree. Let future generations also enjoy its shade.”

The villagers respected Mr. Ravi greatly. At last, they agreed to protect the tree.

Not long afterward, a young boy in the village developed severe breathing problems. His family rushed to town searching for an oxygen cylinder.

Watching this, Grandpa Hari called the children closer.

“Did you see that?” he asked gently. “People had to travel far for one oxygen cylinder. But trees give us fresh oxygen every single day, free of cost. That is why we must never destroy them. If we continue cutting trees, one day people may have to buy oxygen just to survive.”

The children fell silent.

Then one little girl suddenly said, “Let us plant more trees!”

“Yes!” the others shouted excitedly. “Let us plant one hundred saplings near the village pond!”

The children worked together happily. They planted the saplings and cared for them every day.

Years passed.

The tiny plants slowly grew into strong trees, and Greenvale turned into a beautiful green paradise.

Rain fell regularly again. The ponds and wells overflowed with water. Birds from distant places filled the village with cheerful songs and bright colours. Farmers harvested healthy crops because water was plentiful. The cooler weather reduced the need for electrical appliances, helping families save money. Most importantly, the villagers became healthier because of the clean and fresh air.

One pleasant evening, Mr. Ravi and Grandpa Hari sat beneath the trees, watching the children play nearby.

“Look around,” Grandpa Hari said with a smile. “The small saplings we planted have become giant trees. They brought rain back to our village. Birds returned because of this greenery. Even community meetings are now held under the cool shade of trees.”

Mr. Ravi nodded happily.

“Always remember,” he told the children, “true development means growing together with nature, not destroying it.”

“We will protect every tree,” the children promised together.

And the trees of Greenvale danced softly in the evening breeze, as if blessing their promise.

Naramsetti Umamaheswararao has written more than a thousand stories, songs, and novels for children over 42 years. he has published 32 books. His novel, Anandalokam, received the Central Sahitya Akademi Award for children’s literature. He has received numerous awards and honours, including the Andhra Pradesh Government’s Distinguished Telugu Language Award and the Pratibha Award from Potti Sreeramulu Telugu University. He established the Naramshetty Children’s Literature Foundation and has been actively promoting children’s literature as its president.

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

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

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Tags Anandalokam, Andhra Pradesh, Naramsetti Umamaheswararao, Naramshetty Children’s Literature Foundation, Potti Sreeramulu Telugu University, Sahitya Akademi award, Telugu

Poetry

The Boy Who Learned to Be Brave

Post author By borderlesssg1
Post date May 14, 2026
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By Naramsetti Umamaheswararao

Balu was a kind and bright boy who was always smiling. But he had a secret: he was utterly terrified of the dark. He never dared to step out of his house alone after sunset. Whenever the lights went out during a power cut, he would let out a small, scared squeak, cry “Mom… darkness!” and rush to hide himself in his mother’s arms.

One night, as he sat trembling on her lap, his father scooped him up. “Balu,” he said gently, “there is absolutely no need to be afraid of the dark. Think about it. When the light is on, your toys are right there on the shelf, your favourite books are on the table, and your cozy bed is waiting for you. When the light is off, guess what? All your toys, books, and bed are still exactly in the same place! Darkness doesn’t add anything or subtract anything; it just turns off the lights. It’s your own mind that invents imaginary monsters. Once you learn to push those silly thoughts away, you’ll see how brave you can really be.”

Balu nodded, trying to understand. But the next night, when the light went out, his heart began to pound all over again.

Days turned into weeks, and Balu remained as scared as ever.

One cloudy afternoon, as he was walking home from school, the sky grew unusually dark. A strong wind rustled the leaves, making them dance in eerie shapes on the ground. Suddenly, Balu froze. He heard a strange, pathetic little whimper. He stopped and listened. The sound was coming from the thick, thorny bushes by the side of the road.

“What could it be?” he wondered, his heart fluttering. He hesitated for a moment, then took a brave step closer and peeked into the bushes.

There, trapped deep within the tangle of sharp thorns, was the tiniest, fluffiest puppy he had ever seen. Its leg was caught, and its velvety ears were drooping with fear. Every time it tried to wiggle free, a thorn would prick its delicate skin, making it let out another sad cry.

Balu felt a wave of fear wash over him. “If I reach in there, those thorns will tear my skin,” he thought, taking a step back. But then he looked at the puppy’s big, soulful brown eyes, shimmering with unshed tears. He saw how hard its little body was shivering. “No, I can’t leave him. He’s just a baby, and he’s so scared,” a little voice whispered inside him. “He needs me”.

“Don’t worry, little one. I won’t let you get hurt,” Balu said, his voice stronger than he expected. He dropped his heavy school bag on the grass and looked around. He found a long, strong stick nearby.

Using the stick, he carefully pushed the sharp thorny branches aside, creating a small path. Slowly and gently, mindful not to scare the puppy further, he reached into the opening. A few thorns scratched his hands, but he hardly felt them. He scooped the tiny bundle into his arms and carefully pulled it free.

Once safe, the puppy didn’t run away. Instead, it looked up at Balu, wagged its tail with all its might, and enthusiastically licked his nose. It was its own little way of saying, “You are my hero!”. His heart was filled with a warm, joyful feeling that erased all his remaining fear.

When he got home, he ran to his father and told him everything.

His father’s eyes filled with pride. “You did an incredibly brave thing today, Balu. You risked getting hurt to save a small, helpless creature. Only a person with real courage can do something like that. I am so proud of you!” He gave Balu a tight hug.

Just then, his mother arrived with a tube of soothing ointment. As she gently dabbed it on his scratches, she smiled. “Well, my little hero will be truly unstoppable once he conquers his other fear—the fear of the dark!”

Balu’s smile faded a little. “You’re right, Mom. I still have to work on that.”

His father sat next to him. “Balu, that’s where you’re wrong. What you have isn’t a fear; it’s just a misunderstanding. To prove it to you, I have an idea. Tonight, we will go into one of the rooms and sit together in the dark. I will show you that there is nothing there but silence and emptiness. Your imagination is the only thing that fills it with monsters. Will you sit with me? After that, mother will know you are a complete hero.”

Balu hesitated, a shadow of fear crossing his face. “Are you sure? Will I be safe?”.

His father said, “I am your dad. Would I ever ask you to do something that wasn’t safe? I promise you, I will be right there with you the whole time. You’ve faced sharp thorns to save a puppy. Facing the dark is easy compared to that.”

That night, they went into a quiet room and closed the door. His father flipped the switch, and the room was instantly plunged into darkness. At first, Balu let out a gasp and squeezed his father’s hand as hard as he could. But his father just laughed softly and put his arm around him.

“Now,” his father began, “while we’re sitting here in this quiet, peaceful dark, I’m going to tell you a true story about a real-life hero who was born in our very own country. This is a story about a brave young man named Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj.”

He told Balu about Shivaji’s courage, how he learned to navigate through the densest forests and the darkest, snowiest mountains without any fear. He described how Shivaji, even as a young boy, wasn’t afraid to explore hidden caves and deep canyons, always knowing that the dark was just a part of the world, not something to dread. Balu was so enthralled by the stories of battles and daring escapes that he completely forgot where he was. He was picturing Shivaji on horseback, charging through the night to defend his people.

“Wow, daddy! What an amazing hero! He was so brave,” Balu exclaimed when the story was over.

“He was,” his father agreed, smiling in the dark. “And tell me, Balu. During all this time we’ve been sitting here, while I was telling you the story, did anything happen to you?”

Balu thought for a moment. “No, nothing at all. I wasn’t even thinking about the dark! My eyes have adjusted now, and I can see the shapes of the furniture. It’s not scary at all.”

Outside the door, his mother’s phone alarm went off. The next moment, she pushed the door open, flooding the room with light.

Balu looked up at her with a beaming smile. “Nothing happened to me in the dark, Mom! I’m not afraid anymore!”

His mother hugged him tightly. “I am so proud of you, Balu! The courage that was concealed within you all this time has finally revealed itself. That courage is your own special light. Where there is light, darkness must disappear. And where there is courage, fear has no place to hide.”

From that night on, Balu never feared the dark again. He was truly a hero, through and through.

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

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

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Tags Anandalokam, Andhra Pradesh, Naramsetti Umamaheswararao, Naramshetty Children’s Literature Foundation, Potti Sreeramulu Telugu University, Sahitya Akademi award, Telugu

Stories

When Silence Learned to Speak

Post author By borderlesssg1
Post date April 14, 2026
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By Naramsetti Umamaheswararao

Charan was three years old. His mother and father both had jobs. Every morning they woke up early, hurried through all the household work, and rushed to their offices. Because of this, they hardly had any time to spend with Charan.

They would make him sit in front of the television. A maid was hired to take care of him. After finishing the household chores, she too would sit in front of the TV. Charan spent the whole day watching the programs on television along with her.

The colours on the TV kept changing. Scenes changed. Cartoon characters jumped around. Strange sounds filled the room. But not a single character on the screen ever asked Charan, “How are you?” The maid was happy just watching the TV and hardly paid attention to him.

Because of this, Charan could not open his mouth and speak. Even though he was three years old, his world stopped at gestures. It had not reached the stage of words.

One day Charan’s grandmother and grandfather came from their village. They were surprised to see that the house was filled only with the sound of the television. Charan smiled when he saw them, but he did not greet them.

With the help of the maid, they managed their work. It was already dark when their daughter and son-in-law returned home from work. As soon as they arrived, the grandparents asked about their grandson.

“He still hasn’t started speaking. That’s why he just smiles,” their daughter said.

Grandfather felt a sharp pain in his heart. How could a three-year-old child still not speak? he wondered. Right then he made a decision in his mind: “The television in this house must stop. Instead, we must spend time with our grandson.”

Grandfather began to think about how to help Charan start speaking. Soon he came up with a few ideas, and from the very next day he started putting them into action.

Every morning he took Charan to the garden. There he showed him the birds, squirrels, ants, flowers, leaves, and branches, and told him their names.

When a tiny ant was walking by, Grandfather said, “Look, Charan! This little ant is carrying a piece of laddu for her baby. Another ant is carrying a piece of jaggery. Call them and ask them to stop. Say, ‘Ant, please stop!’”

When a squirrel climbed a tree, he said slowly and clearly, moving his lips so Charan could see, “Look at the squirrel… see how fast it climbs the tree! Call it. Say ‘Squ-ir-rel… squirrel… stop!’”

Then he pointed to a parrot sitting on another tree branch and said,

“Look, Charan. Its colour is green. It blends with the leaves of the tree. And see its beak—it’s bright red!”

Charan watched the ants, the squirrel, and the parrot with great interest. For the first time, he tried to stop an ant and made a sound, “Aa… aa…”

Another time a crow was cawing. Grandfather explained, “Look, that’s a crow. See how black it is. Listen… it says ‘Caw… caw…’”

Sometimes he made Charan stand in front of a mirror. “Look, how handsome you are in the mirror! Where is Charan’s nose? Here is Grandfather’s nose. Where is your nose?”

Charan would touch his nose and laugh.

“Say it… no-se…” Grandfather would say slowly, moving his lips clearly.

Watching these movements, Charan slowly began to imitate them.

Grandmother also thought of a clever idea. She would purposely stay in the kitchen and give Charan a small task.

“Oh dear! I forgot to give Grandfather his medicine box. Can you take this to him and say, ‘Take it’ with your mouth?”

Charan carried the box to Grandfather. As he handed it over, and with Grandfather encouraging him, he said his first word: “Ta…k…” (Take it).

Days passed like this.

One evening it began to rain. Charan stood near the window watching the drops fall outside. Until then he had only seen rain on television. Now the cool breeze and the smell of wet earth felt new and exciting.

Standing beside him, Grandmother said, “Charan… it’s raining!”

Then she began to sing a playful rain song, acting it out with her hands.

Holding Grandmother’s hand, Charan pointed to the falling raindrops outside and tried to sing along, saying softly and unclearly, “Rain… rain… come…!”

A few more days passed. One day, Charan clearly called out, “Grandma!”

The moment they heard that word, everyone’s eyes in the house filled with joy. Charan’s parents finally understood something important: compared to the artificial sounds from the television, the first word from a child’s mouth is far sweeter.

Grandfather said thoughtfully, “Children who grow up in a joint family don’t need to be taught how to speak. Words come to them naturally. That’s because everyone around them becomes like a teacher, talking and chatting with them. Mobile phones and televisions may give information, but they cannot teach conversation. That is why Charan started speaking late. Now do you understand where the real problem was? From now on, we must raise Charan without such mistakes and make sure he grows well.”

Charan’s mother realised that Grandfather’s words were true.

From then on, Charan’s parents never left him alone at home. Either his paternal grandparents or maternal grandparents would stay with him while they went to work.

And slowly, Charan forgot about the television.

With his new words, he began to talk, laugh, and fill the house with happiness.

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

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Tags Anandalokam, Andhra Pradesh, Naramsetti Umamaheswararao, Naramshetty Children’s Literature Foundation, Potti Sreeramulu Telugu University, Sahitya Akademi award, Telugu

Stories

Ameya’s Victory

By Naramsetti Umamaheswararao

Ameya was studying in the eighth grade. She was not only good at games but also a topper in her studies. However, she had one weakness — she had a squint in her eyes. Two girls in her class, Swapna and Sarasa, used to tease her every day by calling her names like “Squinty Beauty” and “Twisted Eyes”.

One day, during the lunch break, Ameya was eating her food. Swapna came near her and said loudly, “You have squint eyes, right? When you eat, does the food go into your mouth or into your ears?” Everyone laughed at her. Feeling deeply hurt and ashamed, Ameya stopped eating, went to the washroom, and cried.

From that day onwards, she started coming to school wearing dark glasses. Whenever she removed her glasses, she covered her eyes with her hand while talking.

Seeing this, Swapna mocked her again and asked, “Did you get an operation for your squint? Is that why you are wearing dark glasses?” Ameya did not reply and simply turned her face away.

After a few days, the school organised an exhibition. All the students prepared colorful charts. Ameya also prepared a wonderful presentation on Environmental Protection.

The District Collector came to visit the exhibition. Just as he reached Ameya’s desk, Swapna deliberately pushed her from behind. Ameya lost her balance and almost fell down. Her charts got slightly damaged.

Seeing this, Swapna whispered mockingly, “Look, the squinty beauty is about to fall. She can’t see properly, you know.” The Collector heard this. He immediately helped Ameya stand up and carefully looked at her charts.

Praising her work, he said, “You have prepared this very well. Why are you speaking so fearfully? Why are you covering your eyes with your hand?”

With tears in her eyes, Ameya said, “Sir, I have a squint. Everyone makes fun of me and calls me bad names.”

The Collector then spoke to the children standing there: “Children! In nature, no two flowers are the same. A tree may be bent, but the shade it gives is cool and comforting. Ameya’s intelligence and her concern for the environment are truly great. Making fun of someone’s physical weakness only shows poor character. Calling others by insulting names does not make you great. It makes you guilty of hurting someone’s heart.”

Turning towards Ameya, he said gently: “Your intelligence is your strength. A squint is only a small physical condition. Don’t feel sad about it. Have you heard of Helen Keller? She was not only blind but also deaf and unable to speak. Still, her extraordinary qualities made her an inspiration to the world. She learned to read and write using Braille, mastered many languages, and became the first deaf-blind woman to earn a university degree. Through books like The Story of My Life, she shared her thoughts with the world. She fought for the rights of the disabled, women’s rights, and social justice. People with disabilities should take her as an inspiration. Never hide your beautiful eyes for anyone.”

Inspired by the Collector’s words, the school principal immediately introduced a new rule:

“Anyone who calls others by insulting names will face strict action.”

After this incident, Swapna and Sarasa realised their mistake. They went to Ameya and said, “Please forgive us. We now understand that knowledge and values are more important than appearance.”

Ameya smiled freely at last. From then on, no one in that school teased anyone by calling bad names. Everyone lived together like one happy family.

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

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Tags Anandalokam, Andhra Pradesh, Hellen Keller, Naramsetti Umamaheswararao, Naramshetty Children’s Literature Foundation, Potti Sreeramulu Telugu University, Sahitya Akademi award, Telugu, The Story of My Life

Stories

The Value of Money

By Naramsetti Umamaheswararao

Mr. Williams lived in a town called Vinjamur. He owned several businesses and was well-known for being extremely careful with money. Whether at home or in his shop, he made sure that not even a single rupee was wasted.

One day, Mr. Williams had to go out on some work. Before leaving, he asked his fifteen-year-old son, Raman, to sit in the shop. While Mr. Williams was away, a group of devotees came to the shop asking for donations for the construction of a temple. Raman took Rs 100 from the cash box and gave it to them as charity.

When Mr. Williams returned and heard of Raman’s donation, he became very angry. He made his son sit in front of him and said sternly, “First learn how hard it is to earn money. Only after that should you think of charity. If you do this again, I will not tolerate it.”

Another incident happened sometime later. One day, when Mr. Williams was not at home, a beggar came asking for food. His ten-year-old daughter felt pity for the poor man. She fed him till he was full. She also gave him some rice to take home.

When Mr. Williams came to know about this, he was angry with his daughter as well. He warned her strictly never to do such a thing again.

Mr. Williams’ wife knew her husband very well. She never argued with him about money matters, but she warned the children to be careful and not to go against their father.

A few days later, an old man with an unshaven beard and torn clothes came to Mr. Williams’ shop. He asked the workers about Mr. Williams. Looking at his appearance, the workers assumed he was a beggar. Afraid that their owner would scold them if he saw the man, they asked him to leave at once.

But the old man did not go away. He waited patiently for a long time. After some time, Mr. Williams arrived at the shop. The moment he saw the old man standing there, he recognised him.

Mr. Williams immediately called him inside, made him sit on a chair, and offered him drinking water. When the old man said he was hungry, Mr. Williams arranged food for him. He sat in front of him until he finished eating. Before the old man left, Mr. Williams spoke to him privately and gave him ten thousand rupees.

The workers were stunned. They could not believe that their master—who never spent money easily—had given away such a large amount.

Just then, Raman came to the shop to deliver some things. He saw an unknown person eating in front of his father and, to his shock, saw his father give him a bundle of money. Raman could not believe his eyes.

He went to his father and asked,

“Father, you scolded me for donating just one hundred rupees, and you scolded my sister for giving rice to a beggar. Then how could you give ten thousand rupees to a stranger?”

Mr. Williams smiled and replied,

“He is not a stranger. He is someone I know very well. And he was once a very prosperous man. You don’t need to know anything more.”

Saying this, he returned to his work.

Confused by his father’s words, Raman went home and told his mother everything that had happened. Curious to know the truth, Mrs. Williams came to the shop.

“I know you never give anything away for free,” she said. “You ask for accounts even if ten rupees are spent. So, I cannot believe that you gave ten thousand rupees to a stranger. Who is he?”

Mr. Williams sighed and said,

“So, this matter has reached you as well? He is not a stranger. You know him very well. Do you remember how, soon after our marriage, our relatives cheated us and threw us out? We were on the streets with small children and not a single rupee in hand.”

“Yes, I remember,” she said softly.

“At that time,” continued Mr. Williams, “one great man gave us shelter. He fed us and even gave me some money to start a business. Do you remember him?”

“Yes,” she replied. “His name was Parandham. I can never forget his kindness.”

“The man who came today was Parandham,” Mr. Williams said. “His sons and daughters-in-law took away all his property and threw him out. He said his wife needs medical treatment and he needed money. The foundation of our success today was laid with the help he gave us back then. Today, I got the chance to repay that debt of gratitude.”

Mrs. Williams was deeply moved.

“Has he fallen into such trouble? If he comes again, please bring him home. We will look after him and feed him for as many days as he wants,” she said.

Mr. Williams agreed.

Turning to his son, who was watching everything with wonder, Mr. Williams said, “We have reached this position only after swallowing many hardships and humiliations. Every penny we earned came through hard work. That is why I know the true value of money. When we have nothing, we cannot beg anyone with an outstretched hand. So, when we have money, it must be spent carefully and thoughtfully. I scolded you earlier because you are still too young to understand charity. I did not want you to suffer the hardships we once faced.”

Raman finally understood. He realised that parents always think of their children’s welfare, and that every action of his father had a deeper meaning behind it. From that day on, he learned not to misunderstand his father’s actions, but to try to understand them.

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

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Tags Anandalokam, Andhra Pradesh, Naramsetti Umamaheswararao, Naramsetty Children's Literature Foundation, Potti Sreeramulu Telugu University, Sahitya Akademi award, Telugu

Stories

The Rose’s Wish

By Naramsetti Umamaheswararao

A tiny honeybee once wished to fly on her own and see the world. She longed to gather nectar from flowers and store honey by herself. After persuading her mother, she flew out of the hive.

As she flew around, she spotted a bright red rose blooming in one place. She immediately tried to land on it. But the rose closed its petals at once.

“Oh, little honeybee! Have you come to sip my nectar so easily? Give me what I want, and then take what you want,” said the rose.

“What can I give the rose?” the honeybee wondered.

Just then, a rabbit appeared beside the bushes. The honeybee asked, “What should I give the rose to make her happy?”

“I don’t know. I have to collect roots,” said the rabbit and hopped away.

A little further, the honeybee saw a cow grazing. She asked, “What should I give the rose?”

“How would I know what a rose wants? All I know is grazing and giving milk,” said the cow.

The honeybee felt disappointed by this answer. As she flew ahead, she saw a peacock. “Peacock! Do you know what I should give the rose?” she asked.

“I’m not sure. But if you want, take one of my feathers and try giving that,” suggested the peacock.

The honeybee brightened up. She happily took the peacock feather and flew to the rose.

“Look what I brought for you!” she said, showing the feather.

But the rose said, “This is not what I want,” and closed her petals again.

This time the honeybee saw a parrot and asked for help.

“Children love my playfulness. Take this ripe guava I’ve pecked. Give it to the rose. She will surely like it,” said the parrot.

The honeybee felt hopeful and took the guava to the rose. But the rose frowned, “I’m a flower. Do you think I eat fruits?”

Discouraged, the honeybee settled sadly on a nearby bush.

“In this huge forest, doesn’t anyone know what the rose wants? How will I sup on nectar?” she cried.

A sage meditating in a nearby hermitage heard her voice. He called her close and told her what the rose truly wished for.

Immediately, the honeybee flew to a meadow where little children were playing. She played with them for a while and then asked them to come to the rose plant.

When they hesitated, she said, “There are guava, orange, and banana trees. You can eat plenty of fruits!”

Hearing this, the children followed her.

When they reached the garden, they laughed, clapped, and shouted joyfully, “This place is so beautiful!”

The honeybee went to the rose and said, “You wanted children’s laughter, didn’t you? Look over there.”

Hearing the children’s joyful laughter, the rose blossomed happily.

The honeybee gently landed on the flower and drank nectar to her heart’s content.

The children picked the fruits they liked and went home.

After a while, the honeybee too returned to her hive and shared many stories with her mother. The mother bee felt proud of the little bee’s kindness.

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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Tags Anandalokam, Andhra Pradesh, Naramsetti Umamaheswararao, Naramshetty Children’s Literature Foundation, Potti Sreeramulu Telugu University., Sahitya Akademi, Sahitya Akademi award, Telugu

Stories

How Madhu was ‘Cured’ of Laziness

Post author By borderlesssg1
Post date December 15, 2025
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By Naramsetti Umamaheswararao

In the town of Seethanagar lived Ramayya and Seethamma with their son Madhu. Though Madhu was twenty-five years old, he did not work at all. He spent his days lazily, eating well three times a day and sleeping soundly, without caring about anything else. His parents were tired of advising him again and again. Sometimes they scolded him out of anger, but Madhu remained indifferent and idle.

One day, Ramayya and Seethamma decided to teach him a lesson. They said firmly, “We will give you food only if you work. Otherwise, you will not get anything from us.” Not liking this condition, Madhu left home secretly.

He went to a nearby town and decided to beg for a living. Sitting on the temple steps, he planned to live on people’s charity and the offerings of the temple priest. To gain sympathy, he wrapped his left leg with a bandage from foot to knee and smeared it with red color to look like blood. He stretched that leg forward and begged from the devotees, pretending to be injured.

One day, a rich man named Subbayya came out of the temple after worship. Seeing Madhu, he stopped and said, “Why have you wrapped your leg? You are young and healthy. Don’t you feel ashamed to sit and beg instead of working?”

Madhu lied, “Sir, my leg is diseased. It always bleeds, and I have no money to get it treated. That is why I am begging here.”

Feeling sorry for him, Subbayya said, “Come with me. I will feed you and take you to a doctor.” Madhu followed him, limping and rejoicing secretly that he had found an easy way to live comfortably without work.

That day, Subbayya served him a full meal and asked him to rest. In the evening, he called his family doctor to examine Madhu. The doctor carefully checked Madhu’s leg and realized he was pretending. He told Subbayya that Madhu’s leg was perfectly fine and that his laziness must have made him act this way.

Subbayya then requested the doctor to teach the lazy boy a serious lesson.

Following Subbayya’s advice, the doctor returned to Madhu and pretended to examine him again. As Subbayya entered the room, the doctor said loudly, “This disease is very strange. It cannot be cured easily.”

Hearing that, Madhu felt happy. He thought he could stay in Subbayya’s house forever without doing any work.

Then the doctor added, “There is only one solution …. surgery. If we remove the leg, the disease will be cured completely.”

Subbayya replied, “If that’s the case, go ahead. Do the operation tomorrow. I will bear all the expenses.”

The doctor said, “But if we remove his leg, how will he live?”

Subbayya answered, “Anyway, he is used to begging near the temple. That’s his habit. People who refuse to work for their living can survive like that.”

The doctor said, “Alright, then tomorrow itself, I’ll remove his leg. Till then, don’t give him any food.”

Madhu overheard their entire conversation. His heart sank. His deception could cost him much. Out of fear, he could not sleep. After deep thought, he understood that no one feeds a lazy person for free. If he could do some work at home, he would never need to struggle like this. Leaving home was a mistake.

That night itself, he quietly slipped out of the house and ran away. By dawn, he reached his village. He met his parents and said, “My laziness is gone. I promise to obey you. From tomorrow, I will work sincerely as you say.” His parents were overjoyed.

From that day onward, Madhu gave up his idleness and began to enjoy the happiness that comes from honest hard work.

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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Tags Anandalokam, Andhra Pradesh, Naramsetti Umamaheswararao, Naramshetty Children’s Literature Foundation, Potti Sreeramulu Telugu University, Sahitya Akademi Award., Telugu

Stories

The Real Enemy

By Naramsetti Umamaheswara Rao

Once there lived a farmer named Venkanna in Bhimavaram village. He had a grown-up son named Somu. But Somu was very lazy.

One day, Venkanna’s relatives came. They said that they were going on a pilgrimage and invited them along. Venkanna replied, “Our paddy field will be ruined, if we go away for a whole month now. The harvest should be cut and stacked.”

His relatives persuaded him by saying, “Let your son Somu take care of the work. He will also learn that way. If you both come along, we will see that you face no problems. You won’t get such good company again.” Venkanna agreed after thinking for a while. Overhearing this, Somu promised that he would handle the farm work. Venkanna and his wife left with their relatives.

As instructed, Somu went to the fields a couple of times in the beginning. Seeing the paddy, he thought, “The crop is not ripe yet. It needs ten more days.” So, he lazed and postponed the work. Eventually he stopped visiting the field altogether.

He was reminded twenty days later when his neighbouring farmers enquired why he hadn’t harvested the crop yet. It was already too late by then. He rushed to the field. But he couldn’t find workers immediately. He managed to bring some labourers after five more days. But the crop had become overripe and most of the grains had fallen to the ground.

Venkanna saw the field when he returned from the pilgrimage. He was heartbroken. “I should never have trusted Somu. I shouldn’t have gone,” he moaned while scolding his son bitterly for his laziness.

Later, when there was a wedding in their family, Venkanna again had to leave. Before going, he told Somu, “There is a crop of groundnuts. Go and check every day. Guard the field so cattle don’t graze on it. There’s still some time before it needs to be harvested, so be careful.”

Somu remembered his past mistake with the paddy. He wanted to do better this time and called the labourers in advance. He had the groundnut harvested early. He stacked the crop neatly, thinking his father would praise him.

Venkanna returned later and was shocked. The groundnuts were harvested before the seeds had matured. The grains were soft inside and not ready. Such a crop would fetch no price. Venkanna was distressed again. He scolded Somu. “I only face losses because of you. When will you learn?”

Somu replied stubbornly, “Even when I do the work, you’re never satisfied. Then why should I work at all?” Their argument grew heated.

At that time, their schoolteacher, Mohan, happened to pass by. He stepped in hearing the quarrel and asked what had happened. Venkanna explained Somu’s laziness and the losses it caused.

Then Mohan said, “Your son clearly doesn’t realise how dangerous laziness is. Let me talk to him.”

He said, turning to Somu, “Laziness is the root cause of failure. A lazy person can never achieve what he wants. The greatest enemy of a man is not someone outside, it is laziness itself.”

Somu replied honestly, “I want to give up laziness, but I am unable to. What should I do?”

Mohan smiled and said, “You must practice being active. I’ll give you an example. You’ve raised hens, haven’t you? Have you seen how a mother hen cares for her eggs?”

“No, I haven’t noticed,” said Somu.

Then Mohan explained, “The mother hen sits patiently on her eggs, waiting for the chick inside to peck its way out. Only when it hears the chick tapping from inside, does the hen carefully break the shell from outside to help it out. If she breaks it too early, the chick, which hasn’t fully formed, will die inside. This is exactly what happened with your groundnut harvest, you were too early.”

He continued, “But the hen also never delays once the chick is ready. She immediately helps it out or else the chick will die. That was your paddy mistake. You were too late. Do you understand now?”

Somu nodded realising.“Yes, I see my fault.”

Mohan concluded, “Just as the hen waits with care and patience, we too must show the same attention in our work. Whatever it is…. Farming or business. Responsibility and timing are important. Then only we will get results. If you are a student, careful planning and sincere effort will always lead to progress.” Somu slowly started working hard and thoughtfully from then on.

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

Tags Anadalokam, Andhra Pradesh, Naramsetti Umamaheswararao, Naramshetty Children’s Literature Foundation, Potti Sreeramulu Telugu University, Sahitya Akademi award, Telugu

Review

Silver Strands of Soaring Symphonies

Post author By borderlesssg1
Post date November 14, 2025
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Book Review by Anita Balakrishnan

Title: Silver Years: Senior Contemporary Indian Women’s Poetry

Editors: Sanjukta Dasgupta, Malashri Lal and Anita Nahal.

Publisher: Sahitya Akademi

Several centuries ago, women poets had to fight to be heard, their poems often dismissed as unworthy or mediocre. It is a testament to their determination, grace and sheer talent that today female poets are amongst the most celebrated and respected the world over. In India, pathbreaking women poets such as Toru Dutt, Sarojini Naidu and Kamala Das paved the way for more recent talents such as Eunice de Souza, Suniti Namjoshi and Sujata Bhatt. Of course, this list does not include the vast number of women poets writing in Indian languages ranging from Assamese, Bengali, Hindi, Malayalam, Punjabi, Tamil and Telugu to name but a few.

A recent anthology of poems by senior contemporary Indian women poets titled Silver Years, reflects the centrality of women in today’s Indian society. While elders have always been revered in this society, the overwhelming influence of western media has brought in a certain skepticism towards such traditions. In this context, it is refreshing to read these poems that showcase the maturity, resilience, humour and sagacity of these women. They offer their diverse perspectives on the experience of being an Indian woman, exploring changing societal attitudes to their place in the world, the dynamics of their social roles and the trauma and transcendence they encounter in their lives.

The poems in this collection are not just pretty words that pander to social expectations, they carry the weight of the experiences of fifty senior women poets who have lived rich and varied lives, working in their chosen fields and observing the radical transformation of the world around them. The common thread that runs through this anthology is the forthright tone and boldness of expression in the over 160 poems included. As women who have lived full lives, both in India and across the world, these poets never shy away from controversies, rather expressing with rare grace and tenderness what it means to be sixty plus and female in contemporary society.

The introduction to this volume is no less impressive than the poems. Jointly written by the editors of the collection, Sanjukta Dasgupta, Malashri Lal and Anita Nahal, the introduction traces the evolution of Indian women’s poetry in English, eloquently delineating the political and social challenges faced by women writing in English. Furthermore, the introduction also explores the impact of a deeply patriarchal culture on women in Indian society. The recasting of mythology to suit contemporary societal expectations also finds a mention as well as an emphasis on the voice, agency and power these poets claim for themselves through their poetry. Most significantly, the introduction underscores the resolve, resilience and charm of these sixty plus women, who erase with the power of their words the negativity and weakness associated with aging.

The poems in this anthology vary widely in style and theme, ranging from poems that reimagine gender and societal roles, to those that focus on the havoc wrought by humans on the environment. Perhaps understandably, in an anthology of poems by women poets over sixty, perspectives on aging are numerous.

Anita Nahal’s poem ‘We are the Kali Women’ is a searing condemnation of patriarchal oppression, casteism and discrimination based on skin colour. The poems refrain “Ma Kali. Ma Kali. Ma Kali. Don’t think she’s not watching” strikes a warning note to those hypocrites who are guilty of crimes against her followers while piously bowing before her image.

On a similar theme, but in an entirely different key, is the poetry of Lakshmi Kannan. This poet’s feminism is not overt, but the poems convey an effective message nonetheless. ‘Silver Streaks’ sets forth an idea that is common to many of the poems in the anthology, that senior women do not become less attractive as they age. Instead, this poem emphasizes the power of self-knowledge that maturity brings.

Malashri Lal’s poetry slides into the readers’ consciousness as smooth as silk. Replete with irony and layered with nostalgia, her minimalistic verse has a visceral appeal. ‘Book of Doubts’ evokes a sense of loss for the books one used to treasure. ‘Jaipur Bazar’ is almost like a haiku, conveying the beauty of an emerald and the heritage it encapsulates. ‘Kashmir One Morning’ contrasts the senselessness of sectarian violence with the Gandhian legacy of nonviolence. ‘Krishna’s Flute’, juxtaposes the mellifluous music of the flute and the dreaded coronavirus pandemic. One is associated with the certitude of faith that Krishna’s tunes represent while the other stalks the silent city leaving death and loss in its wake. This is elegant poetry, that does not shock for effect, instead gently evoking images that resonate in the reader’s mind.

Sanjukta Dasgupta’s poems focus on aging with honesty interwoven with humour. Her poems cut to the bone without any unnecessary sentimentality or understatement. Aging, for Sanjukta Dasgupta is an undeniable fact, she asserts that one has to accept the harsh reality of physical debility and the inevitability of death. The poet does not try to gloss over the signs of age, rather she sees them as a culmination of a life lived to the hilt.

The poem ‘When Winter Comes’, is a recasting of P. B. Shelley’s famous line ‘…when winter comes, can Spring be far behind’. The optimism of Shelley’s ‘Ode to the West Wind’ is contrasted with the reality of aging as Dasgupta notes:

In such an intimate Winter
No time 
To spring back to Spring

Spreading its embrace….
Scripting a cryptic memoir
On every inch
From face to toe

The poem ‘Fall’ resonates with the repetition of the words ‘falling’ and ‘failing’, which sets the tone for the final descent “into everlasting rest”. The images used in these poems are at once concrete and fanciful, “the swan throat a tortoise neck now” with “countless rings of recorded time”. The poem “Crowning Worry” addresses the anxiety of aging:

Silver waved among blackened hair
Like flags of treachery
Flashing grin of metallic strands

This poem highlights the power of poetry to acknowledge the reader’s anxieties and ameliorate their lack of self-worth:

Black and blonde tresses howled
In low self-esteem, utter frustration
And massive bi-polar manic depression
As the Grey Gorgeous divas 
Grinned and Glowed

Poems such as these emphasise the beauty of the older woman, whose youthful innocence may have gone, replaced by something finer, the beauty of self-assurance and poise.

Another significant theme among the poems is climate change and environmental degradation, the burning issue of our times. As mature adults who are aware that their legacy to future generations includes denuded forests, polluted rivers and oceans, arid landscapes and a rampantly consumerist mindset, these poets feel compelled to lament. The elegiac tone is prominent in many poems. Well-known poet from Northeast India, Mamang Dai celebrates the biocentric culture of the tribes of the region in her poem ‘Birthplace’. The poem ‘Floating Island’ also describes the harmony that exists between women and nature. ‘Earth Day’ by Smita Agarwal is another poem that focuses on the negative impact humanity has had on the environment.

The poems in this anthology reflect the changing status of women in present day society. The poets are successful women and their clear-sighted view of life reflects their wisdom and rich experience. Aging is not seen as degeneration, but an enlightened phase where the wealth of one’s experience makes for a perspective that is to be celebrated. The poets included herein write with skill, empathy and wisdom, showing readers the hidden nuances of life that are often overlooked in the heedlessness of youth. They are unafraid to boldly present their wrinkles and grey hair as signs of a new beauty, one that is bolstered by maturity and self-acceptance. Pathbreaking feminist Betty Freidan sees aging not as decline, but as a new stage of life filled with power and promise. Her famous quote “Aging is not lost youth but a new stage of opportunity and strength” emphasises her views on the fountain of age.

In these 143 poems, these poets have offered readers a fresh perspective on these new horizons, so that they can be viewed with compassion and a renewed appreciation for the felicities of life. Most significantly, these poems reiterate that the silver years are a time of hope and light that shines on the promise of fresh achievement.

Dr. Anita Balakrishnan is former Head, Department of English, Queen Mary’s College, Chennai, India. Author of Transforming Spirit of Indian Women Writers (2012) and contributor to the Routledge Encyclopaedia of Postcolonial Studies, ed by Sangeetha Ray and Henry Schwarz. Has published papers in national and international journals and reviewed books for The Book Review, Borderless Journal and others. Her interests include contemporary Indian Writing in English, Ecocriticism, Ecofeminism, Cultural Studies and Postcolonial studies.

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

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Contents

Borderless, October 2025

Editorial

Imagine… All the People… Click here to read

Translations

Jani Jani Priyo, Ea Jebone (I know my dear one, in this life) by Nazrul has been translated from Bengali by Professor Fakrul Alam. Click here to read.

Four of his own poems in Malay have been translated by Isa Kamari. Click here to read.

Five poems by Hrushikesh Mallick have been translated from Odia by Snehprava Das. Click here to read.

The Headstone, a poignant story by Sharaf Shad has been translated by Fazal Baloch. Click here to read.

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

Poetry

Click on the names to read the poems

John Valentine, Saranyan BV, John Swain, Ahmad Al-Khatat, Stephen Druce, Jyotish Chalil Gopinath, Jenny Middleton, Maria Alam, Ron Pickett, Tanjila Ontu, Jim Bellamy, Pramod Rastogi, John Grey, Laila Brahmbhatt, John Zedolik, Snehaprava Das, Joseph K.Wells, Rhys Hughes

Poets, Poetry & Rhys Hughes

Rhys Hughes shares his play, Night in Karnataka. Click here to read.

Musings/ Slices from Life

Just Passing Through

Farouk Gulsara muses on humans and their best friends. Click here to read.

Feeding Carrots to Gentle Herbivores

Meredith Stephens looks back to her past adventures with horses and present ones with giraffes. Click here to read.

Linen at Midnight

Pijus Ash relates a real-life spooky encounter in Holland. Click here to read.

Two Lives – A Writer and A Businessman

Chetan Datta Poduri explores two lives from the past and what remains of their heritage. Click here to read.

My Forest or Your City Park?

G Venkatesh muses on the tug of war between sustainabilty, ecology and economies. Click here to read.

Musings of a Copywriter

In Karmic Backlog, Devraj Singh Kalsi explores reincarnations with a twinge of humour. Click here to read.

Notes from Japan

In DIY Dining in Japan, Suzanne Kamata in a light note talks about restaurants with robots. Click here to read.

Essays

Peddling Progress?

Jun A. Alindogan writes about what is perceived as progress from Philippines. Click here to read.

From Madagascar to Japan: An Adventure or a Dream…

Randriamamonjisoa Sylvie Valencia writes of her journey from Africa to Japan with a personal touch. Click here to read.

From Bombay to Kolkata — the Dhaaks of Durga

Ratnottama Sengupta explores a UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage Festival. Click here to read.

Stories

Sleeper on the Bench

Paul Mirabile sets his strange story in London. Click here to read.

Sandy Cannot Write

Devraj Singh Kalsi takes us into the world of adverstising and glamour. Click here to read.

The Wise Words of the Sun

Naramsetti Umamaheswararao relates a fable involving elements of nature. Click here to read.

Discussions

A conversation with Swati Pal, academic and poet, on healing through writing and bereavement. Click here to read.

A conversation with five translators — Aruna Chakravarti, Radha Chakravarty, Somdatta Mandal, Fakrul Alam and Fazal Baloch — from across South Asia. Click here to read.

Book Excerpts

An excerpt from That’s A Fire Ant Right There! Tales from Kavali by Mohammed Khadeer Babu, translated from Telugu by D.V. Subhashri. Click here to read.

An excerpt from Swati Pal’s poetry collection, Forever Yours. Click here to read.

Book Reviews

Somdatta Mandal reviews Banu Mushtaq’s Heart Lamp: Selected Stories, translated from Kannada by Deepa Bhasthi. Click here to read.

Meenakshi Malhotra has reviewed Malachi Edwin Vethamani’s anthology, Contours of Him: Poems. Click here to read.

Rupak Shreshta reviews Sangita Swechcha’s Rose’s Odyssey: Tales of Love and Loss, translated from Nepali by Jayant Sharma. Click here to read.

Bhaskar Parichha has reviewed Kalpana Karunakaran’s A Woman of No Consequence: Memory, Letters and Resistance in Madras. Click here to read.

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

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Tags A Woman of No Consequence: Memory Letters and Resistance in Madras, Africa, Ahmad Al-Khatat, Aruna Chakravarti, Balochi, Banu Mushtaq, Bengali, Bhaskar Pariccha, By Chetan Datta Poduri, Chandrayee Bhattacharyya, Contours of Him: Poems, D.V. Subhashri, Deepa Bhasthi, Devraj Singh Kalsi, Fakrul Alam, Farouk Gulsara, Fazal Baloch, Forever Yours, Goan, Heart Lamp: Selected Stories, holland, Hrushikesh Mallick, intangible Cultural Heritage, Japan, Jayant Sharma, Jim Bellamy, John Grey, John Swain, John Valentine, John Zedolik, Joseph K. Wells, Jun A. Alindogan, Jyotish Chalil Gopinath, Kalpana Karunakaran, Kannada, Laila Brahmbhatt, Madgascar, Malachi Edwin Vethamani, Maria Alam, Meenakshi Malhotra, Meredith Stephens, Mohammed Khadeer Babu, Naramsetti Umamaheswararao, Nepali, Philippines, Pijus Ash, Pramod Rastogi, Radha Chakravarty, Randriamamonjisoa Sylvie Valencia, Ratnottama Sengupta, robots, Ron Pickett, Sangita Swechcha, Saranyan BV, Sharaf Shad, Shukh, Snehaprava Das, Somdatta Mandal, Stephen Druce, Suzanne Kamata, Swati Pal, Tagore, Tanjila Ontu, Telugu, That’s A Fire Ant Right There! Tales from Kavali, UNESCO