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COVID-19: BEYOND THE VIRUS Conspiracy theories & Consolidation of power By Shalomi Daniel When reports of a new infectious disease mainland China, concerns grew. As It is widely believed that the virus originated from Wuhan in China in early COVID-19 went viral with cases and originated in the wet markets in Wuhan. January 2020, the world did not deem it deaths rapidly increasing across the However, countless conspiracy theories necessary to take it seriously. It was world, the World Health Organisation, as to the origin of the coronavirus have shrugged off as yet another virus, while declared COVID-19 a global pandemic on been spun, proliferated and allowed to the increasingly hostile relations 11th March 2020. spread and wreak havoc more than the between the United States virus itself. and Iran following the killing of the Iranian Major General One of the most prominent Qasem Soleimani by a US conspiracy theories that is drone strike, caught the still making its rounds, is that world’s attention, and people the coronavirus was speculated the beginnings of intentionally released by the the Third World War. Chinese, as a biological Meanwhile Down Under was weapon. This has been further on fire, and the world compounded by the fact that watched on in disbelief and the virus, while responsible grief as acres of land for a high rate of casualties in succumbed to the onslaught Wuhan and in many other of Australian bushfires, countries, has not had as many persons lost their lives, great an impact in other main and more than one billion cities within mainland China. wild animals fell prey to the The existence of a virology fires. institute in Wuhan, where Since then, the world has witnessed various types of bat coronaviruses are While nuclear wars and scorching fires unprecedented mass global lockdown, a studied in detail have contributed gripped the world’s attention, the drastically increasing death toll and the towards strengthening this popular coronavirus, or COVID-19, was stealthily collapse of daily routines and life as we conspiracy theory. However, this preparing to eclipse the early have known it, while terms such as remains a conspiracy theory, with no misfortunes of 2020. By early February ‘social-distancing’, ‘lockdown’, and ‘PCR concrete evidence to substantiate it. 2020, as COVID-19 cases began to be testing’ became common parlance. reported in countries outside of Continues on page 3

Tribute to a Elevating the A Silent Prayer P4 Udaipur Tales P7 Frontline Doctor P12 quotidian P13

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Editorially Speaking Contents 1 COVID - 19: Beyond Shalomi Daniel I am happy to share my thoughts with our readers and writers the Virus through this editorial. I am writing this column with a totally different feeling than ever before. As I mentioned in my last 2 Editorial Vijay Anand editorial in February, this year has already seen unprecedented levels of disasters causing loss of lives, making it an unforgettable A silent Prayer Meenakshi Mohan year in recent history. This invisible virus has changed our lives and has confined us to our homes. I haven’t been able to meet my 4 On Remembrance Day Bashabi Fraser friends, relatives and office colleagues for well over a month now but am relying on emails and video conferencing tools to keep in 5 Gratitude Sonali Appanah touch.

The Anguish - poem Sheila Malhotra We have fast become accustomed to the new norms such as social 6 distancing and wearing facemasks while going about our essential Three poems Cyril Dabydeen business. Some countries have lost many thousands of people already to this new enemy with no permanent cure in sight. Sadly, 7 Udaipur Tales Deepa Vanjani I too, have witnessed some tragic losses within my social circles. While we leave the debate on how we reached this situation or how 8 Trending in Love- Vipashana VK our lives will be transformed in the post Corona era for scientists, review politicians and policy makers, it has become our own responsibility 9 An Interview with Diana Mavroleon to raise awareness of the factors that led to this situation to the Divya Mathur outside world. In this huge crisis, the only positive outcome that I 10 SALLY VAGABOND Prithvijeet Sinha can think of seems to be that there is a bit of global cooling down as opposed to global warming that we have been debating for a 11 Global Pause Girija Shettar while. Falling crude oil prices, shutting down of airports and public 12 Dr. Anton Sebastian Benedict Thomas transport systems are all indicators of this sudden change of situation. I sometimes think, ‘can’t we live like this permanently 13 Sipping the Jasmine Anita Balakrishnan rather than chasing the time and counting the weekdays before Moon - A review another weekend comes’. Then again, I also think of all the 14 Through the poetic Yogesh Patel boredom and health issues that change of lifestyle could bring lens about. 15 Elton John’s ‘Me' – A Anjana Basu I thank all our writers who have done an excellent job by sending review varied contributions such as poems, painting, stories, and current Episodic World-poem Leonard Dabydeen affairs. I am delighted to receive their work. The amount of thought 16 Uncertain Times – Subhash Chandra that has been put into their work shows the extent of the impact Short story the Corona crisis has on many people’s lives. Some writers have 17 One Bright Moon- A Sharon Rundle commented on the way governments have reacted to the crisis and review how the families and working class have been treated and the 18 The sun-set viewer - Sunil Sharma behaviour of authorities etc., all indicating the seriousness of the Short fiction issues all over the world and pressing need for an urgent vaccine against this virus. But let us hope there will be some good news 19 Suralakshmi Villa Swati Pal before our next issue in August as scientists are working around 20 Modi’s India Devi rajab the clock to find a vaccine. 21 The Indian Shop Malathy Sitaram

Editing and compiling this issue has been a special challenge over 22 Three poems Anita Nahal the past few weeks, but the good thing is that this issue comes with a good mix of literary writing, making sure no reader is 23 Edifice of humanity Ananya Guha disappointed. I look forward to your feedback as always. Keep safe 24 stay well Hear This - Humour Dawood Ali Vijay Anand McCallum

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From page 1 information, thus perpetuating the spread Many other governments have also of the virus. This trend continues, from exploited this situation, to consolidate The spread of the virus has also been Thailand to Azerbaijan to Sri Lanka, power, and carry out their own political wrongfully attributed to 5G technology, governments have come down heavily on agendas. The Chinese and Hong Kong despite the fact that it has been proven that those who have purportedly spread fake governments apprehended pro-democracy the virus made up of biological particles news, imposing heavy fines and tall prison protestors in Hong Kong during this crisis. cannot be transmitted through the sentences. While curbing fake news is The Israeli Premier has successfully evaded electromagnetic spectrum. Bill Gates, the undoubtedly indispensable, many states court hearings on charges of bribery and brains behind Microsoft, and world have used the purported battle against fake fraud by shutting down court on grounds of acclaimed billionaire and philanthropist, news as a guise to completely restrict COVID-19. A former army staff sergeant on has also been woven into a conspiracy access to information and freedom of death row over the murder of eight civilians theory. It has been alleged as he predicted a expression. During times of crises, access to including a child of five was granted global pandemic of this scale in 2015, and is detailed and accurate information is as presidential pardon by the Sri Lankan funding many research initiatives focused important as curbing the spread of fake President, while the country was under on developing a vaccine for COVID-19, he news. lockdown. manufactured the virus, to vaccinate the Racism has proven to be another deadly Whilst it is commonly known and world, and thereby inject a digital virus that has spread as fast as fake news understood that in the event of a public microchip into each individual, to track and and caused as much damage as COVID-19. health crisis such as this, certain rights and control people. While communities have come together to freedoms will have to be restricted, it is There are also plenty of ‘cures’ that are combat the virus and stand by those in the important that such restrictions are being canvassed. The anti-malaria drug frontlines, others have also exploited this necessary, proportionate and in accordance Chloroquine and Hydroxychloroquine were time to fan communal hatred. Muslims in with law. If not, it becomes fertile grounds highlighted as cures including by heads of India and Sri Lanka for instance have been for authoritarianism and grave abuses of states such as the Presidents of the United portrayed as vectors of the virus, with human rights, and the repercussions will be States and Brazil. President Trump was also virulent online posts trending on social felt far after COVID-19 is relegated to the heard to say that ingesting disinfectants media. In China, especially in Guangzhou, annals of history. Hence, these restrictions was a cure for the virus, though he later many Africans have been forced out of their require a sunset clause – a condition that stated that he was being sarcastic, when he residences and turned away from hotels and these restrictions are lifted as soon as the came under fire for this remark. In the restaurants based on allegations of carrying threat of the virus is removed; these global south, tea, ginger, traditional the disease. Meanwhile in the West, people restrictions cannot be allowed to outlive the medicines and various balms, oils and of Chinese origin have been subjected to virus. herbal concoctions have been paraded as a abuse in public places, and blamed for Ensuring that this balance is struck, and the cure against the coronavirus. spreading the killer virus; many have even boycotted Chinese restaurants and restrictions do not create more damage While such fake news and misinformation is takeaways. than the virus itself, is the responsibility of certainly causing much chaos and further not only the political leaders but of we, the exacerbating the current volatile situation, Further, many states have increasingly people, ourselves. and often causing more damage than the undertaken surveillance measures to track virus itself, many states have been clamping the locations, activities, and contacts of Shalomi Daniel is a down on ‘fake news’ as well as restricting their citizens to stop the spread of the virus, lawyer practising in other fundamental rights and freedoms of by tracing the movement of individuals who Sri Lanka. She enjoys their citizenry. later test positive for coronavirus, and to reading and writing in ensure people abide by lockdown her spare time. In January 2020 when Li Wenliang, a doctor regulations. However, this has given rise to based in Wuhan, first exposed the possible the concerning question of state danger of the disease, the Chinese surveillance and infringement of the right government immediately suppressed the to privacy.

th Confluence is in its 18 year of publication. While we thank all our readers, writers and well-wishers for their support throughout, any donations and sponsorships will be greatly appreciated for our long-term success. Donations can be made to Bank A/C: 87347954 Sort Code: 60-04-02. Thank you.

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A Silent Prayer by Meenakshi Mohan

(Dedicated to all those people who are working hard during these difficult times to make our lives as normal and comfortable as possible)

As my vessel sails through the stormy, tumultuous waves of life I stretch my wings to reach Thee In a silent prayer Please guide me, To conquer the clamorous journey ahead With astute knowledge and strength Then, Endow upon me the peace and calm As flows into the heart of the ocean.

Meenakshi Mohan is an educator, writer and an artist. She has published widely in UK and USA. Currently, she is serving on the editorial committee of Inquiry in Education, a peer reviewed journal for National Louis University in Chicago.

On Remembrance Day To the Indian Soldiers who died in World War 1 A Hundred Years from then

By Bashabi Fraser

Over a hundred years ago And a hundred years from then You were required Does your country remember you To turn your backs In a field of golden marigolds On your village homes The Unknown Indian soldiers In the Punjab and Bengal Lying in unknown graves In Madras and Maharashtra Uncremated, your ashes unreturned From Rajputana to Assam To your green villages From the central plains Where the burnished wheat beckoned Of India, her foothills Where the paddy green stood plentiful And forests, her blazing sun, A hundred years have passed Her warm drenching rain - But do we as a nation You marched to fight the onslaught Recall your unquestioning courage To Britain’s right to democracy In a war that was not your own? On the Western Front, In East Africa and Egypt (An estimated 74,187 Indian soldiers were killed during the In Gallipoli and Mesopotamia, First World War). Ever on the front line, Falling, wounded, delimbed, Bashabi Fraser (Ph.D) is an award winning poet and academic with several publications. She is Professor Emerita Shrapnelled or exploded and Director of the Scottish Centre of Tagore Studies, For a ‘just’ war while Edinburgh Napier University. Bashabi is the Chief Editor of Your nation remained shackled. Gitanjali and Beyond. Her recent publications include a biography: Rabindranath Tagore, (2019)

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Mindfulness Gratitude By Sonali Kalia Appanah

An underrated virtue, something easily cry for not having, you would agree, are done before. I wept; I let it all out. Tears of eroded by the demands of daily life. We are downright embarrassing when compared grief and regret. The feeling that life has so busy being busy, that we forget to be to the anguish of others. just overtaken you is a heavy cross to bear. thankful for the many blessings bestowed Still, we are on an autopilot that keeps us upon us. My lessons in gratitude go back to Speaking of anguish, I remember meeting going, moving, doing and constantly trying my childhood, an idyllic time, with not a an acquaintance from our neighborhood. to get somewhere. We un-see what is truly care in the world. Between playing with She glows with inner peace. What I did not important in the mad race against time. butterflies, daydreaming and climbing know about her was that she had lost her trees; my mother often reminded us to be husband and son just over a year ago and Yet, as I write this, we are all taking forced grateful. Every night she would ask us to within months of each other. Intrigued, I time out. We are fighting against an pray. Then she would ask my sister and me asked her how she copes. She told me that invisible enemy that has taught us that life what we prayed. Like many children, we no matter what happens life goes on, she could morph in an instant. Today the world would seldom ask for something was grateful for her daughter whom she is at a standstill and at an unprecedented meaningful. My mother would gently guide still had to raise. This experience set her on level. The speeding train of daily life has us to pray to be thankful. Whatever did that a path of self-discovery with meditation as come to a screeching halt and we have been mean? Why would we thank God for the an equilibrium mechanism. She taught me thrust forward with a violent shock, simplest of things? Are we not getting in my fourth lesson in gratitude, “there is landing with a sickening thud. Even so, as life what we should be or what we were always something to be grateful for, even a generation that has never faced a meant to be getting? I mean, God must have when it feels like you have nothing left”. pandemic, we got up, regained composure decided that for us right, so why would we and accepted the impact of it on our lives. thank him for his All projects, deadlines, decisions? There lay my business objectives suddenly first lesson in gratitude, evaporated into thin air. We be thankful for the are now faced with simple things in life. We priorities like survival and would pray to God to be rebuilding the future. Many thankful for the home of us are facing that we have the food uncertainties. How will the that we eat, our loving economy fare? Will there parents, our education, still be jobs and salaries a the wisdom to accept the few months down the line? way things are. Will my small-scale business survive this? How will our Like any nurturing children cope? Will life, as grandparent, my we know it ever return? In grandmother would tell the midst of this, we also us stories every night. realize to what extent They would end either in humanity thrives on a moral or in a lesson of humanity. The more gratitude. It was an fortunate, count their intriguing game to guess the daily outcome. blessings and help the less fortunate at this Many a times, these stories would also hour. Essential workers are putting the teach us to be grateful for the things that We like to think that we are an intelligent needs of the nation and its people before did not happen, yes, that did not happen. species, an advanced form of life that their own and that of their families. Whenever I faced a disappointment, my seems to have a plan for everything. We Governments are protecting and mother would console me by saying that have plan A, plan B if A doesn’t work and a safeguarding the interests of their people. not getting what you want is also a blessing plan C, just in case. We pride ourselves on During these trying times, there is no sometimes. It is God’s hands that are predicting problems, preparing for them, greater strength than gratitude. No amount guiding you away from harm, into the path working out endless scenarios, possible of power or money can change our of something better or simply taking you decisions and outcomes to that. We have situation; only compassion and away from something that is not yours. She technology and Science, helping us to push understanding. We need to be grateful for would corroborate her theory with all boundaries. Yet life has a way of what we have and aware of how quickly it examples of people she knew that throwing things at you when you least could all be taken away. Let this guide you experienced a disappointment, only to expect it and are least prepared for it. Fifth and your loved ones from this moment on. realize that something better was waiting lesson in gratitude, life can change in an Stay safe and you are in our grateful for them around the corner. The spookier instant and we are usually clueless about it. prayers. ones were albeit those where people Savour every moment. The true example of Sonali Kalia Appanah, missed an opportunity and that saved them this lesson is my own “friend around the was born from a disaster or mishap. This was my corner” story. I had an ex-colleague and and raised in India. She second lesson in gratitude, be grateful for good friend around the time that I was is a hotelier by what did not happen. Concerning our expecting my first child. As is life, I took up profession and ambitions, aim higher was the motto. another job and moved on. She kept in describes herself as However, my third lesson in gratitude was touch and would regularly ask me about my a typical “Army Kid”! the exact opposite of that – look at those son and how she wished to meet him. I She lives in Mauritius, less fortunate than you. Therein the would tell her next weekend, next week, with her Mauritian unforgettable story of the boy who cried maybe next month. As ridiculous as it husband and two boys. Her passion is to that he had no shoes, until he met the boy sounds, that somehow never happened and share her childhood experiences, lessons who had no feet. Sometimes the things we one day, just like that, I heard that she had passed. As I sat in my office after receiving from her profession and her life in the news, I did something that I have never Mauritius through her writings.

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The Anguish (Coronavirus) By Sheila Malhotra

A tear rolled down my cheek, The florist around the corner, I saw colours discarded. Whose gleeful flower pots Colours of life! Are now, but only a memory. A white lace ribbon What with those roses, Crisscrossing, Those poppies, those tulips, A small posy atop Those fragrances Adorning the front door. All dumped forever. If this but be made to lie Crushed mercilessly! Would become They in thousands lay on ground, The coffins of today Crying out for their lives Arms outstretched, Pleading for their very existence Established artist, freelance art critic and Road Safety campaigner, Sheila Malhotra is widely acclaimed for her very unique series ‘The world through a Porthole.’ She has often illustrated the problem of pollution at sea, thus embarking on the subject of Green Peace.

Three poems by Cyril Dabydeen

MARRIAGE PROPOSAL PERPENDICULAR ANOTHER SELF

She stopped giving him intimacy, Perpendicular I stand-- Outside, but with memory folds, but wanted affection only, waiting you stand, shape and form, in a new place, believe me-- for him to propose, and to say, seen or unseen, becoming time foretold with England “Marry me,” or indeed-- a myriad rainbow without yet to come because of longing “Will you marry me, please?” colors I have left behind. and desire, what’s dreamed about: images of mango and palm, Going on bended knees, he will A lamp-post, a place indeed courida and mangrove, nothing think only about yesterday, not to shed light from, but my less in the penury of time-- today or tomorrow, aiming to win being in darkness only-- between crevices and corners. her over in a less familiar way, foreign territory, you see, what’s beating inside the rib-cage I let you know about. The heart’s own place I must Let you know, brain-waves, walls I heard tell since the time of Bracing myself up for it breaking down if you can believe it. Adam and Eve, I know, or I don’t with heart and lungs, know, but with tremors of heart a merry-go-round life-- 2 and lungs until another lover never horizontal, but Conquest, or another journey-- comes along bringing her flowers, becoming time-bound. like wanting a new self, but it’s nowhere else to go bouquets, tendrils trailing along Ageless. A tree. The hard the sidewalk hanging from ground I stand upon being who we’re not in India-- branches of tall trees, or with a stronger desire-- Bihar or Uttar Pradesh with from a vase in the living room waving to you only, a Bhojpuri voice asking. like a Grecian urn borrowed from Keats I will let you know. Close-up I will whisper about or some other Romantic poet Branches shaking-- days and nights ahead with I don’t know much about. Arms in less perpendicular a new longing, now drifting extended and legs splayed out, space, looking down, hips concave or convex, what’s not not up, being myself, apart from you in the cold to deny but declaring myself to you upright all over again. and ice, bracing up to it-- real time yet to come. with affection always because of words like “I do,” or “I don’t,” then, “Until death do us part”-- I hear again and again-- ritual from the start.

Cyril Dabydeen’s books include My Brahmin Days (2000), North of the Equator (2001), Play a Song Somebody: New and Selected Short Stories (2003), and Drums of My Flesh—a novel. Recent poetry appeared in Poetry (Chicago), Canadian Literature, and Prairie Schooner.

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Udaipur Tales: Staging the Timeless Art of Storytelling Dr Deepa Vanjani

These were people who breathed stories. They and the whole of Africa. Endowed with the gift session titled Queen of Love and Valour. had stories running in their blood and when of healing, her grandmother’s stories had been Madhya Pradesh was also brought to the fore they got together on one platform the result in her subconscious and somehow channelled in the immortal love story of Baaz Bahadur and was Udaipur Tales, the three day International her into becoming a storyteller. Rani Roopmati, narrated by Bharti Dixit. Storytelling Festival, co-founded by Sushmita Gunehgaar Kaun, this humorously satirical tale Singha and Salil Bhandari, which kicked off at The political wit in Valentina Trivedi’s narrated by Valentina Trivedi made the Park Exotica , Udaipur. On stage were narration on Sunday morning and use of audience break into peals of laughter. There storytellers from India and abroad with their refrain in the form of a dialogue added to her were so many subtle layers to her satire, one varied styles of narrating tales in their own performance. Senior journalist writer of couldn’t but help ponder. inimitable styles. biography of Dhoni, winner of Crossword Book Manto’s raw flavour once again gave the prize Shantanu Guha Ray narrated eye- audience goose bumps and the flawless An amalgamation of culture and music, the presentation of his story Padhiye Kalma third edition of the Udaipur storytelling captured in their own storyPlay format( mark festival from 21 to 23 February 2020 at the the capital P) on stage by Rajesh Kumar of Venice of the East, Lake City Udaipur was truly Jash-ne-Qalam from Mumbai in the form of a an invigorating experience. The folk tradition, monologue. The group of professional theatre the rich traditions of myths from various and screen artistes has been travelling across states of India such as Madhya Pradesh, the country, with their focus also on colleges Karnataka, Gujarat and from Africa and Korea and universities, and have been reviving were brought alive in three packed days, interest in Hindi literature. This has also been woven in a tapestry showcased through promoting reading among youngsters. Equally various storytelling genres. While Syed Sahil commendable was the group’s second Agha mesmerised the audience by his performance Fitrati Chor by Vicky Ahuja, Hindustani style of Dastangoi, Vikram Sridhar whose versatile talent was revealed in the way captivated everyone’s imagination by he rolled many characters into his solo narrating folk tales from Karnataka in his performance and yet could delineate each one deliciously humorous style during his session of them. “Ours is a storyPlay,” they told me Talking Myths. Then there was Bongiswa Kotta when I spoke to them, “which aims at carrying from Africa who kept everyone mesmerised by forward the oral traditions.” The name her lively storytelling and Mirande Shah fused storyPlay was devised keeping in mind the fact folk and Sufi in her vocal performance which that they use the third person narrative for was heavenly. Uma Venkatraman’s session telling stories using their voice and body. Each Myth was yet again informative and story is selected after discussion on its various interesting. dimensions and then retold in their own

innovative styles. And their efforts have paid The stage resonated with energy when dividends for they find a newfound Bongiswa Kotta Ramushwana, storyteller with opening real stories in his two sessions Murder appreciation for literature. Freedom Park, Pretoria, Africa, interacted Mystery and Strange Deaths and Dollars in the with kids through her stories. For Kotta stories Mine, the latter being hair- raising real stories Seema Wahi Mukherjee while talking about are cathartic and storytelling a connect. of the diamond industry and some big names her storytelling process said that she first Dressed in her traditional African attire, the in the Indian diamond world and how his researched on a story, assimilated it, drafted Ndebele tribe neck piece Inizila, the Xhosa investigation took him to Angola, Antwerp, and redrafted it, then chose the essence from tribe skirt, and the traditional headgear that Zimbabwe, London and Congo. cuts across cultures, her stories had life Continues on page 8 lessons and skills to impart. “Storytelling is a There was Seema Wahi Mukherjee on the one heart to heart connect, an opening up”, says hand who captivated everyone with her tale of

the storyteller who has travelled to Norway the love and sacrifice of Rani Durgavati in her

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From page 7 historical love story. Agha, who was the as the human civilisation, has been part of Cultural Ambassador to Russia, says for him every home. Stories have been carried forward it and let it be told. Also an educational trainer, his art is his beloved. “One’s culture is ones from one generation to another. Right from Seema has been associated with Jodo Gyan to identity card and so should not be lost”, he listening wonderstruck to grandmother’s teach Maths through stories. “Every person or opines. Also a teacher of the Dastangoi form, bedtime stories, to the television series based even a blade of grass has a story to tell. All you his show was also very popular and acclaimed on myths and folklores, stories always have to do is listen”, says Mukherjee. She on Zee Salaam. Agha is quite open about taking captivate human imagination and this could be defines storytelling as an interplay of the to digital platforms and feels it is a good idea seen at Udaipur Tales as well. As me, many story, the teller and the listener. since it has a reach. So if people are unable to who attended will look forward to its next reach you, reach out to them, he says. edition. Syed Sahil Agha stole the hearts of the An added charm during the festival was real listeners with his rendition of the 13th century life stories of two acclaimed sports persons, Dr Deepa Vanjani is the oral form of storytelling namely Dastangoi. Ganesh Khaitan and Shreyasi Singh. While the Head of the department of While there is the Persian style of this form, latter is an Arjuna Awardee, and winner of Languages in a leading Agha follows the Hindustani style in which Commonwealth Games gold medal, Khaitan colleges in Indore, India has represented India in Golf for fifty years (a there is greater scope of adaptability in terms and a visiting faculty with record in itself), and won a senior of character portrayal and use of dialogue. The Educational Media championship at the age of 66, after having chaste diction, the intonations, and the choice Research Centre, UTD and School of of words wove his tale into a delicate and silky undergone a surgery. Comparative Languages, Indore. thread bringing alive Mir’s story. In his other performance he and opera singer Kabuki In all, the festival is keeping the rich tradition Khanna got together to present a musical of storytelling alive. Storytelling, an art as old

Pankaj Dubey’s ‘Trending In Love’

Review by Vipashana VK

Exactly midway through the book, Sanam, Aamir’s toil in the battered Valley in The plot, the prose and the play of words— one of the protagonists in “Trending in the face of Sanam’s, in her privileged all is so perfectly aligned that the reader Love”, is dancing on the stage, and this is and peaceful house in the power- is left wanting for some more. Dubey when realisation dawns that you have drunk Delhi, almost breaks heart. But introduces a strong dramatis personae in been seeing her in your mind’s eye and this is a love story, and Dubey wants the first half of the novella and each has a experiencing what she is feeling. During you to believe in magic; he mends story to be told. The novel’s that moment of performance, bilingual hearts soon enough when Aamir’s deuteragonist, who emerges to be Aamir’s novelist Pankaj Dubey puts his readers in arduous efforts are made good and he cousin who is also his friend Moeen, is no Sanam’s skin and takes them on a tour feels there is hope to change the sidekick. Labelled a rebel by the from spring to autumn to winter and back situation in Kashmir. government, he is the real face of to spring, as she prances around the stage. Kashmir’s angst and helplessness. The Every author wants to breathe life into devouring reader is left asking for more of their characters and make them seem him and of all the other characters— real. And Dubey, who has carved for Sanam’s father who has climbed the class himself a significant space in South Asia’s ladder despite being from a backward literary scene with four novels (eight community, and the major who pushed titles), all published by Penguin, in mere Aamir to take the leap. As far as the lead six years, has a smooth success in doing couple is concerned, Pankaj Dubey aces so. His latest 224-page offering is already the characters with all finesse possible. set for a web series release. Sometimes, however, Sanam’s perfection becomes unreal; she seems infallible and This time Dubey has embarked on a love hard to identify with. story with protagonists from two contrast landscapes—the almost flawless Sanam With his breezy words, Dubey weaves a who comes from an affluent family in New narrative of love and hope, something the Delhi, and Aamir Fizal, a Jammu & world is in dire need of at the moment. Kashmir boy for whom all circumstances And it is always recommended to read the have always been flawed. Published by book for literary satisfaction before Penguin Metro Reads, the young adult watching the movie (in this case a web fiction’s first part is about the two lead series). This one is worth the literary characters’ journey from deciding to take The second half of this page-turner is satisfaction. the entrance exam for the Indian a love story—Dubeys forte. His words Administrative Services (IAS) to the are simple and scenic yet striking, struggle they go through before getting with splashes of poetry now and then selected, and before their lives intertwine making the heart fear as well as The reviewer Vipashana VK is a former at the training academy. Dubey lays bare flutter. Be it the glamour of Delhi, journalist with The Times Of India and open the stark disparity between the beauty of Mussoorie, tragics of is currently pursuing her Masters in aspirations of the privileged living in Kashmir, throes of love, humiliation Politics and Communication with India’s national capital—New Delhi, and and passion, the Mumbai-based writer London School of Economics. those from the constantly embattled paints it all beautifully with his Valley of Kashmir. words.

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Story of a Living Legend Diana Mavroleon interviews Divya Mathur

DM: First of all, please accept our heartiest contingency clerk. I basically worked my Networking was virtually all by personal congratulations to have just received one of way up to being selected by the then contacts, phone calls, letters, meetings. India’s highest national awards, the Minister (Culture) and Director, Mr. Enthusiasm was high and that always Padmabhushan Moturi Satyanarayan Gopalkrishna Gandhi to join the team that makes for a good energy. When Mr. Award, for your writings and promoting established the Nehru Centre. Under his Gandhi's term ended in 1995, people Indian languages. guidance I went on to become Senior queued up to the end of South Audley Programme Officer and remained there for Street, right up to the American embassy, Divya: Thank you very much, I am over 24 years. for an opportunity to say a personal thank delighted and humbled. It's a wonderful you and farewell …so great was his acknowledgement of my contribution to DM: So quite a leap then – from popularity and influence. The audience world literature. contingency clerk at the High Commission increased with the advent of eminent to the position at The Nehru Centre with Directors with their multifaceted DM: You were born in 1949 in old Delhi into the aim to promote Indo-British dialogue. personalities: Prof Indranath Choudhuri, a creative middle-class family. Tell us a bit Girish Karnad, Pavan Varma, Monka Kapil about your background and what Mohta, etc. your most prominent childhood memories are from growing up. DM: The magnitude of your organizational skills was Divya: I was brought up by my recognized by the Arts Council of grandparents up to the age of 13. My England when you were grandfather was an eminent Mughal honoured with the Arts Achiever artist and Shayer (poet). I grew up Award -2003. What do you in a very large close-knit family that consider were the main reasons had a keen interest in Arts, they chose you for this especially literature and music. prestigious award? The award Storytelling was a major pastime acknowledged 'outstanding for us. We were all expected to contribution and innovation in contribute to the family gatherings the field of arts.' In the same which were frequent, so I learnt to year, you were also nominated play the harmonium, flute, tabla Fellow of Royal Society of Arts. and of course singing. Divya: My main aim has always DM: To what extent did those early been to address the cultural days influence the way your aspirations of the Indian creativity developed? community in the UK and to promote lndo-British dialogue at Divya: I think my work as an the level of thoughts and shared impresario is a reflection of experience. Much has come growing up in a world of cultural about through these dialogues generosity. As a child and teenager, both individually and I was as much a part of an audience collectively. as I was a performer, and this contributed to my later interest in DM: In 2003 you also founded putting art and culture together - Vatayan Poetry on South Bank. people and creativity. This is What brought that about? definitely the essence of my life. Divya: We needed a prominent DM: After your B.A. in English from central London venue in order to Delhi University followed by a promote poetry written and diploma in medical journalism, your spoken in Hindi, Urdu and other career began as a medical secretary regional languages, alongside at the All India lnstitute of Medical English translations. It was a Sciences (1972-1985) where, to way of introducing many non- Divya: Yes, and placed with such a huge but facilitate your work, you invented Indians to this poetry, whilst at the same exciting responsibility. I still vividly shorthand for ophthalmology. What time a great opportunity for Indian poets to remember that day, 15th November 1992 - brought you to England? share their work and ideas. We also the very first program in which Pt Ravi organize Poetry-Picnics and Poetry-in- Shankar performed with Ustad Alla Rakha Divya: After 15 years of an extremely Action at reputed venues like Keats House, Saheb on tabla and Pandit Ram Narain on difficult marriage, and with 2 young Stratford Upon Avon, Roman Verulamium - Sarangi. The atmosphere was absolutely children, I decided that the only way to all very hands on, organic and very electrifying. I was in total awe. At that survive what had become an almost importantly - great fun! embryonic time, we had hardly any impossible existence and to provide a furnishing; no stage or chairs even. The better life for my children, that we would DM: You have been at the forefront of musicians had rugs to sit on brought from escape. An old school friend living in propagating Hindi as well as regional Mr Gandhi’s household and the audience Denmark saved my life by sending travel Indian languages. This has not only served happily squatted on the floor. tickets for myself and the children. to help preserve these indigenous cultures

However, we couldn’t settle in Denmark. but also to promote new growth and DM: Who made up the audience at that Those were the days when without development. What has the response been time? knowing Danish you just could not survive from the younger generation?

in the country. We arrived in London in Divya: Well we certainly had a lot of 1985 with only a six- month restricted visa. (continues on page 10) Europeans in the audience, mainly due to I could only work for an international Mr. Gandhi’s contacts. Remember, we had organisation. Eventually, I joined the High no media to help us in those days. Commission of India-London as a

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(from page 9) English translations. The momentum gathered as the enthusiasm grew. SALLY VAGABOND Divya: So it's like a constant process of Connectivity forms strength and a agitation. We have no choice, because if we bond like nothing else. It has been an didn’t bother then the result would be that incredible journey really. By Prithvijeet Sinha these languages would eventually Sally Vagabond, disappear from being spoken, publically at DM: So far you have published, besides a resplendent butterfly as one can see, least, and become insular i.e. existing only a novel, six stories and seven is off to socialize, as household conversations. collections of poems. What would you visiting each of her winged friends, consider are your other significant in the new order of things. DM: So not only the languages would literary landmarks? disappear, but the history and development Free from the human stain of the Indian culture that would disappear Divya: My debut novel, Tête-à-tête, is that kept her hidden from the world, along with them. included in Delhi University’s syllabus in just those fragrant corners of the botanical garden, for BA Honours/ and over a dozen so fresh and pure the fruit of solitude it had been; Divya: Precisely. postgraduate dissertations/PhDs are But her heart longed to see the city in its full morning carried out on my books. My latest finery, DM: As well as being performed as spoken play, Future Perfect, was staged at with the air filtered by exhalations of quiet virtue and word, you have enjoyed your work being Akshara Theatre-Delhi. My poem, The not too many talking heads, adapted for stage, television and film. Any Minute Raindrop, has been included in or the honk and tap and sneezes and coughs of the 9 other forms? Arts Council of England's Poems for to 5 rush hour commencing from daybreak itself, the Waiting Room. A selection of my And how those kids tried to clip her and catch her Divya: My poetry has been composed and poems was choreographed by Dr Githa and she used to fly away, sung by eminent artists. The album, ‘Native Upadhyay in four diverse forms of from fear of falling out of flight too soon and losing Scents’, has a selection of poems by Indo- Indian classical dance forms and her one and only gift. British poets composed by the famous performed at Cartwright Museum- musician, Radhika Chopra (listen on Bradford. I wrote a collection of poems Sally Vagabond, YouTube). Doordarshan has made a film on to celebrate the birth of my first once or twice did they appreciate your colours, one of my stories and Dr Nikhil Kaushik has granddaughter, Sia, that further at the rose and gladiolus show produced a film, ‘From Home to Home’, inspired me to go on to translate five and you settled coyly on the side of the prize based on my achievements. books for children for MantraLingua. winning bouquet. During this Lockdown, we have So far hovering above familiar environs and the same DM: What do you consider have been your organised a series of literary events on visitors, catching their glimpses from a dignified main aims? Zoom to keep authors up to date. distance. And the favourite child on whose index finger you lingered for ten seconds is locked in, missing your Divya: My main aims, past and present, DM: There isn't enough space to tickling sensations. bearing in mind that a lot of my work has include all your awards here; over a been achieved almost entirely through self- dozen PhD's have been written on your This is such a peaceful morning, funding, has been to give a platform to books. You are listed in the volumes of such a revolt of sorts from what has been. writers and artists, to give a voice; to share Inspirational Women, Asian Who's Fear of crowds has left us, cultures. Not just share, but to integrate Who and several international For the fateful eyes see all. and to find new means of expression. collections. I would like to end with It's quiet, ,as if the earthly compass was watered asking... what do you consider to be down by something outwardly, DM: So its like a constant process of the highest personal achievements in from nature's own beckoning. evolution. your life so far? It's pure, the water so blue and unpolluted, the air crisp and mottled by nary an intoxicant Divya: Yes, and it comes with the and the peacocks have left the garden's boundaries excitement of the new and the positive Divya: Firstly, the story that began as and wandered towards nearby residences, energy that comes with it. a woman’s survival went on to become to trill with their other feathered friends and find out a hugely shared the most refined golden cry of joy amongst them. DM: Another of your main incentives has achievement. Secondly, the fact that There are sparrows too, down at the watering hole, always been to promote the writing of both of my children have happy and gossiping about this extended slumber from those Indian women and from as early as the contented lives; they too experienced beyond their reserve. early 1990s. It must have been challenging? much and had to work very hard. This How did you go about it initially, again means so much to me. If I will have left Sally hears them out, remembering it was pre-internet days? any legacy it will be... to survive, to tell goes lapping on little drops of water every few the story and to inspire and to support minutes and finds the biggest marigold to extract her Divya: I literally had to create the others to tell and share theirs. incense from, for the day. mechanisms and means to enable Declares the little mynah's cries the sweetest of all , interaction to take place. Today there is thinking of all the other friends in distant, unknown quite a lot more on offer and so I have gone Diana Mavroleon is corners she has to reach out to. beyond UK and Europe. I would like to a Polymath working think that I have genuinely contributed to as a film-maker and As this drone of peace extends itself out, she must this development. as a radio producer- find a more wholesome company. presenter for For Sally Vagabond, true to her name, DM: How long did the process take to Resonance 104.4fm. is not to just hover over half-hearted expectations establish? She is the Founder anymore member of the but explore her essence in these fourteen days of Divya: lt took me no less than six to seven European Media Arts Network. Her composure. years just to find enough Indian women work revolves around documentary writers settled abroad and then to film, cultural journalism, curator & off she goes, assemble the first compilation of stories events organising. Diana is also a Searching for her own special flower, in a moment of bliss. entitled ‘Odyssey’, followed by ‘Aashaa qualified, experienced garden and (Hope), followed by Desi Girls. I also edited landscape designer practising bio- Prithvijeet Sinha hails from Lucknow. a poetry collection, Native Scents: Poems dynamic principles. His motto in life is to create and by Hindi, Urdu and Punjabi Writers with expand his world views.

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MAY 2020 Lockdown A Global Pause? By Girija Shettar

I heard the phrase “Global pause” last in such cases there is a pause: a temporary indirectly brought about the discovery of week, obviously describing the world’s cessation of normal movement. America.” shut-down in reaction to COVID-19. But in my mind’s eye I saw two paws, cat’s paws, Without forgetting the suffering - the Where is the beauty of cultural insight, the holding a globe. A cat-virus playing with a increased incidence of domestic violence, innovative and high-mindedness of the mouse-globe. I wondered what the picture the grieving who have lost loved ones to the India that has given so much intellectual, might mean. When news started coming out virus, those struggling with loneliness, and spiritual, and artistic treasure to the about the plight of India’s migrant workers, mental and emotional suffering - I think it world? I realised this image was relevant for them. is fair to say that for the majority, working from home or collecting financial India perhaps more than any other national In March, when the cities locked down and assistance, volunteering to deliver food and grouping of humanity has demonstrated in casual work such as on construction sites essentials to neighbours, exercising in the its ancient past the human wonders of folded, these families suddenly found fresh air once a day, and finding ways to learning and culture that blossomed not themselves without jobs and without stay hopeful and motivated, is the new from a narrow monotone materialistic financial support. Forced from their homes normal and constitutes the extent of the thinking, but from a giant multifarious they took to the roads on foot or squeezed crisis. Many are enjoying the peaceful harmony of diverse philosophical, cultural, onto overcrowded public transport to make conditions. spiritual and intellectual perspectives. Its their way to native rural villages. genius lay in knowing, and knowing how to Living like this, it is easy to envision how propagate, the grandeur and growth of the Writing for British newspaper The COVID-19 could be Roy’s “portal”; how human spirit. Financial Times (3rd April), writer and positive changes could emerge. Worldwide, activist Arundhati Roy said the crisis of conversations are being had about the This is not to call back in the ascetic COVID-19 could be an opportunity to re- bright new possibilities in waiting. We talk tendency that at times and in places has make our world. She wrote: about reducing traffic pollution, putting an characterised India. That is just one aspect “Historically, pandemics have forced end to hundreds of thousands of premature of her colourful cultural life. As Swami humans to break with the past and imagine deaths each year from particle emission Vivekananda pointed out, the country their world anew. This one is “never stood for wealth” even no different. It is a portal, a though it was among the gateway between one world richest of all nations: “It was and the next. We can choose a powerful race for ages, yet to walk through it, dragging we find that nation never the carcasses of our prejudice stood for power, never went and hatred, our avarice, our out of the country to data banks and dead ideas, conquer.” This was the nation our dead rivers and smoky that attracted the “hungry skies behind us. Or we can cohorts of Europe” to her walk through lightly, with borders, thirsty to partake of little luggage, ready to her superior cultural and imagine another world. And material treasures. ready to fight for it.” India’s migrant workers are Let us hold that thought as we now the hungry, for food and consider the greater burden for fairness. The traumas that some are bearing. imposed on them seem more akin to struggles suffered by As they travelled, the migrant Image courtesy: PTI the West, caused by a focus on workers faced terrors most of materialism to the spirit’s us cannot even imagine. Starvation. inhalation, about how the shopping crisis detriment. Once upon a more innocent Exhaustion. Utter abandonment of human has made us more careful with our time, many in the West turned towards assistance. Reportedly, some faced brutal resources now we see how quickly they can India for a cure. Were those times to return, police harassment as they walked roads be snatched from us. And there is hope, too, would India have anything to offer? unprotected. Some were rounded up like that in future we will treat each other in cattle and sprayed down with disinfectant. public more gently and with more respect At the start of India’s lockdown in March, Some - not just anyone: precious family after the enforced discipline of social watching footage online of the migrant members - died during these journeys. distancing. workers gathered at teeming train and bus

stations in India, I was struck by how For them, COVID-19 is no mere pause. For But with the deadly crisis facing some in peaceful people were with each other. If some it is an end, for others, it is the start our world, like our brother and sister my eyes did not deceive me, I spied the of a dangerous new and unpredictable life. migrant workers in India, musing about the long-suffering, huge hearted genius of

bright future this pandemic might bring India’s spirit in action. More words on this This month it is reported that some of these seems whimsical. Seeing their suffering is would only be an insult to a populous whose migrant workers have been stopped from a reminder that India’s reality for hundreds innate potential appears to be crushed by entering their villages, from getting work of years now is that of having been crushed social and political chaos decade after in the fields. These families, having under the yoke of authorities decade of this modern era. survived the city exodus, now face unsympathetic to and unable to harness the starvation. So, perhaps it is not whimsical, but country's unique genius. essential to ask: will the “portal” of COVID- People of the Muslim faith, too, are being As Swami Vivekananda once said: “As I look 19 lead to a grand new world for India, or targeted with reports of murderous bullies back upon the history of my country, I do will the cat continue to play with the taking the crisis as an excuse to beat people not find in the whole world another country mouse? - people who carry a faith integral to the which has done quite so much for the beautiful patchwork of Indian culture. improvement of the human mind. So great Girija Shettar is a freelance In the cities, and among the well-off the in fact was the superiority of India in every writer based in London. story is very different. All except key aspect that it drew to her borders the workers on the front line of the crisis are at hungry cohorts of Europe and thereby home in isolation. It is accurate to say that

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MAY 2020 Obituary Anton Sebastian A Doctor who died in the line of duty by Benedict Thomas Dr. Anton Sebastian, fondly known to medicine including one titled ‘History Anton had a passion for history and many as Thillahan, fell a victim to of Medicine’ which was a pioneering decided that he should explore the COVID-19 on April 04, 2020 while effort by a Doctor of Medicine. This history of his motherland Sri Lanka. He working for the National Health Service apart, his hobbies included other fields took leave from his Consultancy (NHS) at the Kingston Hospital in like collection of ancient books, coins, services went to Sri Lanka and toured London, UK. He was a Consultant antiques, stamps and what not. You will the island even visiting several Buddhist temples and monasteries and Physician who answered the call from find shelves and shelves of well-bound spending the nights there. He told me NHS to serve the needy at a time of books in his spacious home in Surbiton, that he was warmly received at every great crisis. While treating infected Surrey. On my last visit to his home Temple he visited and had the patients he contracted the virus and opportunity to refer to ancient ola succumbed. books. After a painstaking effort which was really herculean, he came out with Anton was born in Jaffna, Sri Lanka on a real masterpiece ‘An Illustrated January 23, 1945 to Dr. Gregory and History of Sri Lanka’, a massive volume Josephine Sebastianpillai. He had his of historical data which virtually primary education at St. Patrick’s stunned all readers. How he could have College, Jaffna and moved to Kandy, a assembled all the data that had gone town in the Central Province of Sri into this book remains a wonder. Lanka at the age of ten where his father Medicine and History are poles apart was a Registered Medical Practitioner. but in Anton’s life the poles had met. The book which had earned the The latter had retired early from the encomiums of historians, academics, State sector to run a Medical Clinic and professionals and even politicians has a Nursing Home which catered to the seen four editions, all of which were needy in Kandy. around five years back, I was treated to sold out in no time. https://antonsebastian.com/ Anton had his secondary education at a fiesta of all his collections which included classic old cars. His collection St. Sylvester’s College, Kandy and God had blessed Anton with an intellect actually astounded me. It struck me that entered University of Peradeniya where and abundant talents and skill all of he is one who could squeeze a 48 hour he graduated as a Doctor of Medicine in which he used for the benefit of work into a 24 hour day. Amidst his 1972. A few years later he met a humanity. More than that, charming girl, Vasantha God has also bestowed on Reginald, a Peradeniya him noble qualities of University graduate and humility, equanimity, married her with parental compassion and genuine blessings. love for fellow human beings irrespective of After two short stints as a class or status, all of which Medical Practitioner in were always part of his Colombo and Jaffna, life. Eventually he died, as Anton moved to London he lived, for others. with his family in 1979. He joined the NHS and His death is an irreparable worked at the Kingston tragedy to his grieving encompassing work, he would find time hospital, London and later qualified as family but they can take comfort from to enjoy music and play Piano to relax a Fellow of the Royal College of the fact that he is being hailed by with his family. He was a dedicated Physicians. When he got a good job offer thousands as one who had sacrificed his family man. from a leading hospital in the city of life in the service to humanity. Jeddah, Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, he Anton was always available for accepted the offer and worked there for May Anton’s Soul Rest in Peace and let consultations to anyone who sought his more than a decade. He was a well- the earth lie softly on his turf forever. services which he gave unsparingly. I known Physician in the Kingdom even have often disturbed him from distant Benedict Thomas treating members of the Royal family. Canada even at odd hours and he was On his return to London, he became a always courteous and considerate. (Benny) held executive Consultant Physician and soon became positions in the widely known for his prowess and even Anton took the initiative as a Founder, Financial and had a clinic down Harley Street, the in setting up an after school centre in Administrative Service centre for eminent Physicians. the village of Mathagal (from where his Sectors in Sri Lanka and wife hailed) called ‘Village in the Middle East. He is now retired Anton was a Doctor of Medicine but did Empowerment Centre’ where needy and living in Canada with his wife and not confine himself to Medicine. While students are taught computer, daughter. E:[email protected] always tending the sick with total languages, and other skills like typing, devotion and passion, he found time to sewing and tailoring free of charge. He engage in several hobbies and literary was a visionary indeed. efforts. He authored several books on

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MAY 2020 Elevating the quotidian Lakshmi Kannan’s ‘Sipping the Jasmine Moon’ A Review by Anita Balakrishnan Authorspress, New Delhi, pp.142, Rs.295

Poetry is particularly important for women woman “had stashed away her private floating superficially over the dark myth of writers: among the various forms of moments” in her core, her brain. This is an India”, in the words of Jayanta Mahapatra. creative writing poetry bears the most ironic subversion of the ideology that Perhaps as a reflection of this the poems in intimate relation to language. Many women equates woman with her body; here it is her this section are different in tone, writers share in the task of interrogating mind that stores the liquid gold honey that manifesting a deep yearning: “I shall stand received meanings, but poetry is represents her essential self. This poem here on the bank of the Phalgu/ and wait for particularly significant in its ability to resonates with others that celebrate Rasha that ferryman/ to take me across the river./ infuse new significance into language. This Sundari Debi, a self-taught nineteenth- He’ll appear my ferryman/ on whose brow makes poetry very valuable to women century Bengali author, and that icon of sits an expansive sky”. Another stunning writers because it allows them to challenge female power ‘Mahishasura Mardhini’. poem ‘Ask For The Moon’ is dialogic in form the extant power equations in society These portraits of female power are and underscores Kannan’s impatience with through female voices and myths freshly juxtaposed with the poems that follow, that the patriarchal codes that prevent women imbued with power. depict the love between the poet and her from participating fully in cultural and mother and her own love for her son, that religious customs in South India. The young Bilingual poet and author Lakshmi tell the truth with subtle circumvention. woman in the poem finally mocks the Kannan’s recently published volume of This blend of South Indian culture and patriarchy as she “sips at the jasmine poetry evocatively titled Sipping the moon” and recites the forbidden Gayathri Jasmine Moon, has all the sensitive, subtle mantra. interrogation one has come to expect in her verse, though many of the poems also break The fourth section ‘Flowing Waters’ new ground reflecting her evolving contains several delightful poems that are philosophical outlook. Divided thematically distinctive for their luminous, haunting into five sections, the volume contains imagery, ‘Aarti’ and ‘Unquiet Waters’ are some of her best known poems from her particularly noteworthy. Kannan’s previously published collections as well as syncretic outlook is seen in poems such as several new additions giving the reader a ‘That Friday’ on the crucifixion of Jesus panoptic view of her thematic proclivities. Christ and in ‘Mukti through Mango’ on The book includes an introduction by Karaikkal Ammaiyar. The final section, Jayanta Mahapatra, celebrated Indian ‘Candle in the Wind’ fittingly focuses on the bilingual poet, who praises Lakshmi ephemeral nature of life and the enduring Kannan’s ability to translate intense mystery of death. emotions and personal experiences into memorable poetry. This is truly a volume of poetry to be read, reread and savoured! Lakshmi Kannan’s Lakshmi Kannan is primarily noted for her imagery and verse are so powerfully short, imagistic poems that evince her evocative that they have the capacity to worldview; her impatience with rigid soul- elevate the reader above the ennui and numbing traditions that circumscribe the dejection of present-day life to a plane of development of identity, particularly higher consciousness. I can only end with female identity. This volume opens with a western enquiry in Lakshmi Kannan’s the lines from the exquisite poem ‘Nelumbo poetic invocation to Ganesha, remover of poetry is evident in the frequent allusions Nucifera’: “Above the muddy water, you the obstacles, whose worship has come to to Tamil literary texts and cultural icons lotus/ bloom dew fresh, clean and symbolize the syncretism of modern India. that season her writings and lend an unsullied/ by the filthy swamp below/ The first section in the book titled ‘Braided intertextual dimension to her work. That’s how said the World Honoured One,/ Lives’ showcases the poet in her element, the lotus keeps its head/ above the waters.” drawing on Tamil cultural tropes and mores The second section ‘Maitree’, extends the to create tender vignettes of family life, warmth of family relationships that shape Lakshmi Kannan, a novelist, poet, short religious rituals and the inner weave of the first section to affectionate, enduring story writer and translator, writes in women’s lives. Raised in an orthodox Tamil friendships where the poet “could come English and Tamil. Her recent novel The Glass Bead Curtain is now available in milieu, the bilingual poet’s ability to into my own,/ for you just let me be.” The reprint (Vitasta, 2020). Her earlier effortlessly evoke quintessentially South poems describe friendships that run the collection of poems Unquiet Indian cultural rhythms segues into the gamut from childhood bonds to the joy of Waters (Sahitya Akademi) is also available more cosmopolitan ethos of her later life discovering the beauty of classical Tamil in reprint. and this seamless blending lends to her literature with a fellow devotee, to Anita Balakrishnan is poetry its unique flavour. The eponymous friendships that accommodate and Head of the poem ‘Braided Lives’ uses the mundane transcend differing religious beliefs. daily ritual of dressing hair to emphasize Department of English at Queen the strong bonds of love that weave The third section, ‘On the Trail’, is the still Mary's College, together three generations of women in a centre amidst the turbulent emotions and Chennai, India. family: “three in a row, twisting time/ in swirling waters of the poems in the other the ritual of ‘doing hair.” However, another sections. In these poems, Kannan explores poem is the very antithesis of this cozy the teachings of the Buddha and the poet warmth: ‘An Autopsy’ reveals that the seeks to “delve into its message of order

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MAY 2020

Through the Poetic Lens Yogesh Patel

Shanta Acharya sings, Jennifer Wong sends a letter home

Letters Home by Jennifer What Survives Is The Wong, Nine Arches Press Singing by Shanta Acharya,

Indigo Dreams Publishing In Letters Home, a Poetry Book Society Wildcard Choice, Jennifer A bird doesn’t sing because it has Wong explores this. An expat from an answer - Hong Kong, who went to Oxford, It sings because it has a song. and received a Hong Kong Young Artist Award, she has gained a PhD So pens Shanta Acharya, our in Asian diaspora Poetry from prolific poet, whose work has Oxford Brookes. Wong is a vintage featured in hundreds of magazines here with the unquestionable and seen publications by quality of poems and takes us numerous publishers, a feat through the apostrophe of our almost impossible to repeat. Her presence connecting the worlds new pamphlet What Survives Is torn apart. Her heart is where her The Singing is just published by mother is, but the love that her heart is, is in England. This play of Indigo Dreams Publishing. The lines above capture what is ‘is’ in my sentence brings me to a point how she also plays with the Acharya’s core quest. She has songs to part with, but they have language. Like Rishi Dastidar and Daljit Nagra, her command over spanning wings of views about everything around us, often two languages allows her to exploit two different characters that political. To anchor us in this, her first poem takes us through the have emerged in her, of which she is now conscious. She hammers dooms of Brexit and influx of migrants, but it has hope: ‘a crack is this uniquely in her poem ‘Chinese Classifiers’ playing with the all it takes for light to get in’. Poet’s defiance is the light that tries units of Chinese words assuming meanings as per their context, to get through the crack. What is there to challenge? The taking that further by juxtaposing Beijing, London and Hong Kong. distortions or fakery: ‘the quality of darkness is how it lets us see.’ Well, she is Chinese from Hong Kong, but lives in England: With her light added through the crack, she wants us to see Different units of her arguing with each other! differently. This is the journey in this collection. A pondering poet often discharges a Guru’s wisdom: ‘When fate deals you a losing Why is Beijing more polluted than London hand, play in silence.’ Emotions and passions also run riots; and Hong Kong different from mainland? ‘barbarians run the city’, ‘a daughter, perfect almost, yet How much freedom have you got there? relegated/to live in the shade...’, ‘chasing other people’s dreams’, I tell you I don’t know. Someone handed us the rules.

‘a slow sclerosis of vision’ of the world, or ‘humans pretending to All displaced individuals are pawns of similar chess! To reconcile, speak’. Wong has devised a mechanism of conversations and arguments as

Many of her poems have high pitch feminism, occasionally quite an assumed letters, these poems. A conversation is with you, her apocalyptic, as in her poem ‘Can You Hear our Screams?’ with the mother and herself. line ‘flushed into toilets, poured into sewers’. These are speaking Poems are letters home trying to touch the past from her presence. poems, not ‘showing’ poems. Speaking poems often tip over into I have never read a poem on the soup so touching to prove this. shouting. Refrain I have seen in Venkateswaran – with no Mother’s recipe competes with husband’s vegetarianism. There is compromise on the message – is difficult to achieve. Her distress is a bit of her absent on both sides of a coin. That apostrophic crystallised in ‘You learn an alphabet of erasure-‘. Acharya also presence runs throughout this collection endearingly trapping us takes us to despair: ‘I believe in God, now I don’ know what to into poem after poem. These are ‘showing’ poems allowing the believe.’ However, poets capture a variety of momentary collection to be your own treasure-trove. They say much with an sentiments but make them lasting. Their poetry collections reflect indirect beauty, real poetry always does as in Wong’s poem ‘Glow’. such a medley. Acharya’s collection also cannot be judged by one Do not take ice lanterns and their amazing shapes described on the poem. Hence she also talks about ‘Belonging’, Home’, ‘All You Can surface. The key is in: Do’, ‘The High Windows’, ‘Friendship’, and more. Poet has also many social concerns; they burst out vividly in her poem ‘Graffiti’. You remember how far However, the darkness still lurks around as in ‘I sat holding his this water has travelled. hand as he lay dying.’ The violence is not too far either, as in ‘The The amusement won’t last. Bull Fight’. Finally, I am completely sold on the thought of ‘Once upon a time Good and Evil worked together/bringing out the best Water is fluid as any identity and its expression: difficult to collect in each other’. The poem is very playful with the images of ‘union or shape. But when frozen in moments, experience and context, the of Devils’, ‘Gods...debating what to do with Evil,’ and ‘You can be ice creates meaning, which is transient. The life is in enjoying and any kind of Devil you want-‘. You may even manage a laugh with celebrating these phantoms. ‘Devil’s tattoo’. Acharya’s collection is a wonderful potpourri of anger, sorrow, wisdom, love, and all things human. If in her poem In the Queen’s New Year Honours List 2020, Yogesh Patel ‘Home’, Acharya says, ‘Home’ is not a country or postcode’, Jennifer received The Most Excellence Order of the British Empire, Wong, in her poem ‘The limitation of maps’ writes, ‘Maps cannot MBE, for literature. He runs Skylark Publications UK and a tell what we’re made of.’ non-profit Word Masala project to promote SA diaspora literature. Widely published, he has received the Freedom of the City of London.

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Book review Elton John’s ‘Me’ A Review by Anjana Basu Definitely wonderful and weird, Elton with Bernie Taupin is documented as is beneath all that candour he felt that a John’s memoir is a no holds barred story the unstructured way in which John certain amount of privacy was needed. of his life. He begins with his childhood worked, using Taupin’s lyrics for By then he was already a star at the age and his parents who should probably inspiration when he sat down at the of 23. Some would think that he did it never have been married – Elton John piano. late but once he had accepted the fact could never quite get away from his As you would expect the book is filled that he was gay, he never looked back. father’s influence which was difficult with anecdotes – like the time he threw There were episodes of bullying for the nerdy child that he was. Reg oranges at Bob Dylan because, like boyfriends and expecting them to drop Dwight from Middlesex, his real self, Simon and everything for him, not to mention an was always there to remind Elton John Garfunkel, Dylan unforgettable encounter with a snooker who he really was even when he bought was bad at charades table. himself purple and gold private jets. or when he At the bottom of everything there seems Possibly it was Reg Dwight who was confessed that he to be a yearning for stability, for a responsible for his body consciousness felt David Bowie family. Today Elton John has settled and the spangled outfits he bought to never really liked down with his partner and adopted sons. disguise himself. Elton John the name him. Elton John also He does the school run when he can. came from two member of the band he dishes the dirt on his Possibly Reg Dwight has resurfaced in joined, Bluesology, the saxophonist drug addiction Rocketman in a more positive way since Elton Dean and his mentor Long John and bad temper the rock star is now in control of his life. Baldry. continuing to hold Pan Macmillan, onto his humour all Me would not be the book it is if it Music filled his life – though he knew he INR 591/ the while. There weren’t for the help of music critic Alex would never make a classical pianist were also attempts Petridis who worked with Elton John for because his fingers were too short at suicide and a prostate cancer three years, helping hone the warm whereas concert pianists had hands like diagnosis that had him wearing a diaper geniality of his narrative voice. The ‘tarantulas’. However, despite this, he while performing Rocketman on stage in collaboration is gratefully was determined to be a musician and Las Vegas. acknowledged by John. possibly it was an act of rebellion against his parents who dictated ways to Not to mention the passing of those Anjana Basu has to date eat vegetables among other things. At close to him like Versace and Princess published 7 novels and 2 heart he loved music and wanted to his Diana. There are sad moments and bad books of poetry. The has love to come through as he performed. moments that many might not want to BBC broadcast one of her Surprisingly he needed lyricists to work put down in words. However, when he short stories. Her byline has with him until he finally got the knack of came out of the closet, the actual loss of appeared in Vogue India, writing his own songs. His partnership his virginity is glossed over, possibly Conde Nast Traveller, Outlook and Hindu Blink.

OURS IS AN EPISODIC WORLD but oceans wash to shore monsoon brings raindrops Leonard Dabydeen blessing Mother Earth Ganga Mata adulation shores in satiation and we congregate to touch her Lotus Feet pledging allegiance empathy beholden radiance immaculate unflinching joy mind and body in prayer in effulgence glory for thus we know you: Mother and Father tumre bin hamra kaunon nahin.

Ours is an episodic world we’re cradled Leonard Dabydeen, Guyanese-Canadian within its boundaries poet and member of The Society of Classical drum-beating in trails of travesty Poets (USA), Life Member of MetVerse Muse Kashmir in perplexed identity (India); member of Muse India Journal; Kandahar rumbling in uncertainty member of Muse-Pie Press (Shot Glass and there are murmurs Journal and Fib Review). He is also a free- and there are whispers lance writer and book reviewer; author of as Syrian children speak Watching You, A Collection of Tetractys Poems (2012), and with empty stomach Searching For You, A Collection of Tetractys and Fibonacci of empty bellies Poems (2015). e-mail: [email protected] no path to comfort with freedom not a dream

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Short story Uncertain Times Subhash Chandra

Within six months of their buying the He was a tea freak; so I placed a cup on the Now, he was completely bereft of hope flat facing mine six years ago, they side table. But it remained untouched. – life’s sustaining force. adopted me into the family as a Something was drastically remiss. member, though I belonged to the Then the dreaded happened. He suspect, even shunned category of One day I asked him, “Why aren’t you stopped getting out of the bed, refused bachelors. All my needs were taken writing?” to bathe and change and even eat. He care of and I lived a carefree life. But “What’s the use?” he said despairingly. needed urgent psychiatric treatment, unfortunately, Boudi (brother’s wife) We’re both seventy plus and easy prey for but during the lockdown it was not suffered a sudden cardiac arrest and Corona demon.” available. passed away. Avijit was shattered! I “But we’re taking all precautions. Besides, One day I prepared kheer (rice and lost my mother a second time! India got a head start of more than two milk sweet dish), his favourite. But he weeks and our dynamic Prime Minister took just stared at it blankly. As a member of the family, I the Virus threat seriously, got down to Sometimes I got exasperated. Taking supported Avijit’s aspiration of building resources to fight the Virus, care of a depressive can be lots of becoming an eminent writer. I buoyed whereas some countries were casual about nervous strain. I felt like telling him, him up in this crisis which could it and became hotspots. But now they, too, “If you are hell bent on committing imperil his dream. have put their act together and are taking suicide, then go ahead.” measures. And scientists all over the world But I continued with my efforts. I told him, “I will take charge of the are furiously working to develop a vaccine,” Whenever I came across good news, I kitchen and the household chores. You I said. told him. I narrated to him that an visit the market for essentials and “Jagat my haemoglobin is low. Hence I eighty-three-year old woman and carry on with creative work. I’ll not suffer from double whammy – weak seventy-two-year old man got cured of be able to match Boudi’s culinary immunity because of age and anaemia. I go the infection. A fleck of life briefly skills, but I will try to cook curries you to the market every day; one day I’ll bring flickered in his eyes and died. would find passable. home the Virus that would kill you too. It took three months of exhortation to “From tomorrow I will take care of the And then a sliver of pale light send him to the computer. Life shopping for daily needs too,” I said. appeared at the end of the tunnel. hesitantly moved on without the one “Are you a strapping young lad and safe Indian government, with the whose absence was a constant with from the Virus?” collaboration of people succeeded in us. “I’ve robust Punjabi genes. And years of flattening the curve. In the next few uninterrupted Yoga, exercise, and regular days, the number of infected cases “I miss her grievously,” Avijit said one walks have given me muscular immunity, became a trickle. Other countries also day. stronger than a thirty year old.” reported decreasing number of new I placed my empathetic hand on his He did not respond. cases. shoulder. “Besides, Corona V shall be defeated by And Eureka! A vaccine was “Jagat, I can’t believe green papaya India and the world before long. You get on successfully tested on humans. could be turned into such delicious with your writing. The future belongs to When I read out to him the latest curry!” those who believe in the beauty of their news, he sat up in bed. “I’m glad you like it.” dreams.” “Now what do I do? I’ve no plot, no “I used to pity you for being a # ideas, nothing. I’m lost … …if only I bachelor,” he said. But his condition worsened. Now he spent could write one story, the flow would “Now?” time lazing around, reading the newspaper, start.” He smiled weakly watching television or moping. Every bit of I got a flash. “You are a selfish bloke,” I said to negative news about deepening Corona “Write about what you have gone lighten the atmosphere. crisis threw him into the cavernous trough through all these months. But promise Avijit slowly regained the intensity of of despondency. to not leave me out of the story. his passion to fulfil his childhood “Avijit, if you don’t write, then I refuse to “Can you make kheer today?” dream. He pounded the keyboard as act your wife.” before and became prolific. His “As you wish,” he said in a desolate tone. stories frequently appeared in several “But you don’t know cooking.” Dr Subhash reputed Indian and foreign journals. “You need not worry.” Chandra, former “I’m sure, soon your books will top the Professor of popularity chart,” I said one evening. After a few days, when I entered his study, His eyes sparkled. “You think so?” the sight unnerved me. English, Delhi “I’m certain. I’ve read some of your He sat on the floor amidst a heap of University, has stories. They are superb … so human!” shredded papers, head bent. published two “What have you done, you fool?” And then Corona Virus struck the I had never talked to him like that. short stories collections, Not humankind and began to take swift He looked up with desolate eyes and spoke Just Another Story, and Beyond strides across the globe. haltingly, “I’ve torn all the drafts of the the Canopy of Icicles, about One day I saw him sitting in front of stories … diaries, the small bits of paper … sixty short stories in journals, the comp and dolefully staring at the even the empty envelopes … on which I had blank monitor. Nothing new. Earlier, scribbled plots. What is the point of keeping four books of criticism and too, he could not write for a couple of them? Besides, after my death, I don’t want several research articles. days and then got going. my son-in-law and daughter to read these, But now for a fortnight at a stretch, I as there are explicit sexual portrayals.” found him in that inert state.

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Book review

ANDREW KWONG’s ‘ONE BRIGHT MOON’

Reviewed by Sharon Rundle

“One Bright Moon” is a first book by have to offer their children is their of the famine’, for example, and Australian author and General Medical unconditional love, resilience and flying fighting kites. Practitioner Dr Andrew Kwong, who unfailing hope. ‘The little children on the ground narrates the story of his childhood in screamed, their faces upturned to keep Shiqi, China, during the regime of ‘But the hushed news that many their gaze on our warrior. I pulled and Chairman Mao. The gruelling and often people had starved to death was too spun in hard at the same time, sending terrifying historical and personal events hard for us children to comprehend. Red Star into a slicing dive, catching experienced by the author, his family There were also stories of people its pursuer at the jugular. Crisp and and friends are told in vivid and eating the flesh of those who’d died— Clean. I felt it cut right through our illuminating detail through the voice of and, later, of abducted young helpless enemy’s line. Ah-dong, a child. children… Death was the man shot at Earring and Yui-Hoi were already off Pig Head Hill, his body spurting blood the wall, running after the drifting Kwong is an intelligent narrator who in every direction, slumping, writhing blue kite. A whole bunch of children portrays his experiences in a way that and then not moving.’ followed behind them, screaming and results in a significant and screeching with great joy.’ compelling memoir. The narrative voice of the young Kwong guides the The narrative moves back and forth reader through the turbulent in time as Kwong weaves in stories ideological changes taking place in of his family, forefathers and communist China between 1950 and ancestors that broaden out the 1968. As he grows into a young man, narrative. For example, that of his his outlook continually injects father (Baba), who was sentenced to optimism into the narrative. imprisonment in Heilonjiang.

The book is divided into four parts, a The final Part set in Australia shows prologue and an epilogue. how Kwong adapts to his adopted Occasionally events are reprised in a homeland and fulfils his long-held new way that directly shows their goal of studying medicine. Never effect on the family. ‘Sojourners’ who one to rest on his laurels, Kwong left for the USA or Australia—the New accepts every challenge that Golden Mountain—in the years confronts him. He doggedly pursues covered by the prologue—are strongly his aim of a medical degree, despite encouraged to send vital foreign his yearning to see his family in currency to families still in China who Shiqi again and his concern for their depend on it. welfare.

Kwong skilfully uses understatement These later chapters set in Australia in his memoir, the prose is never are not as vividly portrayed as those overwrought. Nonetheless, the full set in China and Hong Kong, horror that he confronts is keenly although there are certainly apparent. Descriptions of the memorable moments. Nonetheless, landscapes are evocative, poetic and “One Bright Moon” is a gripping, the sense of place is strongest when it is true story of courage, persistence and imbued with humour and poignancy eventually escape against incredible through the sensory and emotional Kwong’s education was reduced to odds. Highly recommended. perspective of the author. learning Communist Party propaganda and taking part in Party Publisher: HarperCollins Australia ‘Within days, five families moved in, and directed projects, such as ‘smashing https://www.harpercollins.com.au/9 our house became as busy as Come rocks and breaking bricks’ collecting 781460712399/one-bright-moon/ Happiness Road at lunch hour. We ‘waste metal’, and eradicating ‘the children were curious of the strangers in sparrows, flies, mosquitoes and rats our once-peaceful home, and we didn’t [which] were known as the Four Dr Sharon Rundle is an know what to do, so we stopped playing Pests’, as one of a ‘sea of little editor, reviewer and and quietly watched the chaos set in.’ soldiers in khaki ready to conquer the writer who co-edits bad world’. His success in later years anthologies. Her latest Shocking scenes of the effect of famine, is a tribute to his determination and collection: “Glass executions, detentions and dedication to furthering his studies. Walls: stories of tolerance and denouncements are tempered by gentle intolerance from the scenes of a loving family struggling to Notwithstanding the oppressive Indian subcontinent and authoritarian rules, the children survive. As former teachers and Australia”; (Orient BlackSwan, 2019). found joy at every opportunity. The intellectuals, Kwong’s parents are She is Editor for the Society of Women denounced as ‘bad elements’ and their Dragon Boat races, which ‘took us Writers NSW. possessions are confiscated. All they away momentarily, from the misery

MAY 2020 17

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Short fiction The sun-set viewer Sunil Sharma

In the Country of the neo-Epicureans The ones who did neither were “Because it is unproductive activity.” (C-n-Es), any non-productive activity treated as threats. “I do not agree,” he argued. “Not was suspect and reported Idlers. Downsized. Out-of-job. Old and sick. guilty!” immediately. This class was dubbed a liability and treated The officer replied, “This does not The C-n-Es was otherwise “normal” with contempt. bring money, power or prestige. and the citizens doing trade, Passive Vs. active people war it was called. Idlers are not welcome in our commerce, science, management, And the biggest danger was the indolent hyperactive country.” banking, retail and manufacturing who did nothing and hence, to be reported The sunset viewer gaped at the obese were respected as the frontline immediately to the police on the lookout of authority and said with disgust, “How people by the governing elite of all such viruses, to be eliminated fast. you can legislate thus? Judge? shades who did nothing but divide the . Atrocious!” people on many flimsy grounds and The small village outside the city was “That is the First universal Law of thus benefitted enormously by the suspicious of one such sudden threat. every commercial culture.” The apparent divisions. The elite fought Nestled in the jungle, off the highway, near officer said aggressively. “You are a within for the sake of power and the river, the small community was always violator of that scared law. You are a partied later with the opponents. It on the edge as many strangers passed clear and present danger.” was all staged as a drama and citizens through that wooded and serene area, often The sunset viewer laughed: “You are knew that but grew cynical by the stopping for few minutes for the mandatory mad!” brazenness of the show. Selfies and then move on. The officer felt enraged. “You are “Politicians! They fight before the Except a middle-aged man with disheveled calling the law and its enforcer as world but secretly remain friends.” hair and long beard and simple clothes. mad! How dare you, a parasite?” That was the refrain of the voting He was termed the sunset viewer by the The viewer was unmoved. “I do not public, helpless as there were no Elders. care! You are all mad.” options. Needless to say, he would arrive an hour “OK. I slap more serious charges now. Each government continued the before the sun set and watch the sun go What do you write in your diaries?” charade. down in the long river. “Poems.” They separated the citizens along He was always punctual. Arrived at the The officer was crestfallen: “Poetry!!! various lines and got different vote precise hour and left after the sun set. You are very dangerous!” banks. And did nothing but watch the sun set! “Why? I don’t do harm to anybody. Ironically, a knowing public easily The elders were alarmed. “How can a man Compose lines near the long river. succumbed to the divisive tactics, just sit and watch the sun go down in the Watch the sunsets quietly.” making their job easy. river for weeks together? Doing nothing for “That is the chief crime. Does it pay?” To mask their failure on the hours? Sitting idle? Watching and “No.” educational, health and employment muttering? And occasionally writing in a “Does it bring laurels?” fronts, the politicians, with help from diary?” “No.” their costly spin doctors, always came They got frightened. “Then why do you write?” up with new slogans; most common The sunset viewer did not harm anybody or The viewer looked at the cop and said, being: “Democracy in danger”; say anything nasty. “It is sublime. It is deeply spiritual.” “Religion under threat”; With downcast eyes, he passed through the “Spiritual?” “Balkanization imminent”; “Danger village and went to the extreme corner that “Connects me with nature. Source of within” and more, at the time of commanded a good view of the long river bliss. Elevating!” elections. and the trees and the rolling meadows. He “ How anything unproductive can Even the educated got scared and listened to the bird songs and smiled bring happiness?” fought with those unlike them! broadly, closing eyes in rapture. “It brings to me. That is important.” One thing glued the disparate C-n-Es Unusual! “OK. Is it a job with a package?” together was the common national They observed him for weeks and finally “Without a package?” pursuit of wealth, power and called up the cops. “You don’t get anything?” hedonism. The cops came, watched and immediately “No, I do not.” The new philosophy was eat and arrested the harmless man. “Even then you write?” drink till you become an ass! “Suspect caught. He is dangerous. Send “Yes. Gives me high. Enough!” Every city had turned into a bazaar. reinforcements.” The patrol said. The cars Each shop offered discounts. Bars and arrived soon. The officer ordered staff: “Put this no- hotels mushroomed. The villagers were relieved. good idler in the cell for the Saturday night rule: Drink, eat and The sunset viewer was bewildered! condemned right now.” dance till you drop! “Why me? What have I done?” he asked. Women who earlier drank discreetly The officer smirked. “You do not know? Sunil Sharma, a came out in the open and competed Every criminal claims so.” senior academic and with men. “Let me know my offence?” author-critic-poet-- Kids did it at home. The officer glowered. “OK. What were you freelance Enjoy life! doing there?” journalist, is from You do not know this might be your “Where?” suburban Mumbai, last! “At the long river.” India. He has Every reveler’s personal anthem. The man was scandalized. “Cannot I sit and published 21 books People did die early but due to liver watch the river and sun in a free country?” so far, some solo and some joint, on cirrhosis, cancer, hypertension, “Why will an able-bodied man watch them prose, poetry and criticism. He edits diabetes, stress. on working days? For weeks? Are you the monthly, bilingual Setu: But the figures were never discussed. nuts?” the officer countered. “Do you not http://www.setumag.com/p/setu- Only mantra: Work as a donkey. feel guilty?” home.html Prance like a horse! “It is ridiculous! Why guilty?”

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Book Review Aruna Chakravarti’s ‘Suralakshmi Villa’ Reviewed by Swati Pal

Suralakshmi Villa is writer Aruna birth to only still born sons. The way she is of the transience of his relationship with Chakravarti’s fifteenth book. An educated punished shows that the veneer of kinship Joymita, show the quiet strength in her. and empowered gynaecologist disguises the lurking barbarism. Again, the She may not be scintillating but her (Suralakshmi) suddenly leaves the luxury reader balks at the way in which Eidun’s dignity and forbearance make her of her villa abandoning even her son and father, Moin-ud- din treats his girl memorable. Chakravarti excels in accompanied only by a Muslim girl: that in children. His stubborn ego and male gaze creating such nuanced characters. a nutshell is the central narrative. Woven make him commodify his daughters so that Kingshuk too is so believable. His into this narrative are the lives of so many he decides their destiny while sexually powerlessness in being unable to resist people, places, events and issues, from exploiting them in the confines of his Joymita; and later, his relief that she was witch-hunting and burning to secret home. not the marrying type and that thus he liaisons, from child abuse and botched up could return, undivided, to his wife and abortions to explorations of exciting son, make him human. It is this non terrain through travel, indeed one finds judgmental understanding of people that many ingredients that make up this colours the way in which Chakravarti delicious read. The title is a telling one, creates her fictional characters and their where person and place are locked relationships. Even those one would love together in the two words and a sense of to hate, such as Moin-ud-din or Moinak time, of history is evoked through the Sen or Ojju, are treated with a fine mix twinning. It is an instant titillation: who is of candour and pity. Suralakshmi and what happened in/to the villa named after her. The canvas of the novel is vast but one of the most significant elements in it is the ‘I am Suralakshmi Villa. Even as I tell my emergence of a new, bold and educated story, an army of workmen is hammering woman from the annals of a patriarchal at my walls. Tearing down my doors and society that is dark, cruel and often windows. Shattering and splintering the punitive to its women. Suralakshmi is glass. Soon I’ll cease to exist. But the perhaps the best example of that woman thought does not sadden me. I’m old and and the way she leaves her home is tired and lonely. I have lived long enough. reminiscent of Ibsen’s Nora in the It is time I went’. These lines on p215 are a famous play Doll’s House. But almost all testimony to two things. One that the Villa the women are brave and exceptional in itself is a mute voyeur privy to the lives of the way they combat the vicissitudes of the people who inhabit it but is unable to life. In that sense, the novel is perhaps intervene. Besides this, the language Published by Picador India liberating. The novel explores too, the stands out. The personification of the villa, 2020. ISBN 978-93-89109-39-9 idea of rebirth, past life and racial how it might have spoken if it could and the memory that lend a mystical experience It is not in the village alone that one sees underlying verisimilitude is what makes to the lives of the characters. And knitted the shades of grey in men and women. A Chakravarti a remarkable story teller; she into the yarn of the novel, are ideas of makes the words jump out of the pages to noticeable parallel to Moin-ud-din is religion and myth, superstition and conjure images in the theater of the mind. Moinak Sen, Suralakshmi’s husband. taboo. Despite the difference in wealth, power, education and sophistication, they are We live in such fractured times. The world The novel would work well as a film. essentially made out of the same may have become a global village but There is something so visual in the way material. Brothers below the skin. Their behind the seeming lack of distances it has been narrated. And yes, one could wives share almost identical destinies. In between people and the so called hope for a sequel! the highly polarised world we live in today, brotherhood, there are many tales of if we scratch below the surface, all humans racism, religious fundamentalism, Aruna Chakravarti has been Principal of turn out to be essentially the same, with regressiveness, class consciousness and a prestigious Women’s College of Delhi strengths and flaws that have nothing to do hatred between communities. The world University for ten years. Among the with their class or religion. The novel within Suralakshmi Villa especially that of various awards she has received are reflects this reality. the village reflects these dualities. The Vaitalik Award, Sahitya Akademi Award author takes pains to detail the syncretic and Sarat Puraskar. Relationships, with all their mysteries Bengali culture. People appear to live in are unraveled skillfully. An interesting harmony and respect each other’s cultural relationship is the one between Kingshuk practices. But the author does not glorify Dr Swati Pal, Principal, and his wife Deepa and his extra marital Janki Devi Memorial the villagers. A sense of gloom and relationship with Joymita. Deepa’s College has been a foreboding hangs low over the village and Charles Wallace as well unquestioning response to Kingshuk’s so we shudder with horror when the as John McGrath Theatre frequent excuses while on a rendezvous starving Zaitoon Bibi is held responsible, Studies Scholar at with Joymita, her unwavering stance even by family for the bad luck prevailing Edinburgh University. She is the author towards divorce and her wise perception in her home as her daughter, like her, gives of several books and newspaper articles.

MAY 2020 19

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South African Newsletter Modi’s India By Devi Rajab

On a daily basis we are being smothered As a secularist I cherish the diversity of a so called majoritarian state of hinduvites with a deluge of information. For every religious experiences outside of my given they have declared a significant sector of opinion there is a counter opinion. For designation. Born and raised a Hindu, their Indian nationals as persona non every view there is another view. Now married a Muslim, with Jewish and grata. Using religion as a divisive factor more than ever before we are being Christian sons and daughters in law ,life they are constructing barriers between the bombarded on all sides with news that is for me is a rich tapestry of variegated people who have lived on Indian soil for embedded in truth, half-truths and truths. A swami once said ….Be wary of hundreds of years. There is a compelling downright lies. How do we as average those who claim to be a very good Hindu. argument in history for religion and citizens in a constant state of busyness Muslim or Christian…..because they are national identity. The Muslims in India are with little time to sift fact from fiction dangerous in their bigotry……and they Indians and their culture and traditions are arrive at the truth? According to Levitt and can never find truth that may lie beyond deeply rooted in India in the Taj Mahal and Dubner, in their book Freakonomics “ the their self-imposed boundaries. Besides numerous other magnificent architectural modern world despite a surfeit of they tend to build walls around wonders. In small but significant ways the obfuscation, complication and downright themselves instead opening pastures for Modi government is slowly tightening the deceit, is not impenetrable”. If we ask the knowledge to seep through. Gandhiji said noose around the necks of beef eaters and right questions and are prepared to listen “I do not want my house to be walled in tannery factories run by Muslim tanners. and to think they assure us that it is on all sides and my windows to be History is being rewritten to portray new possible to get to the kernel of truth in any stuffed. I want the culture of all lands to image of a non-secular India. Odious controversial issue. be blown about my house as freely as comparisons are being made with Pakistan, possible. But I refuse to be blown off my a failed state on account of its insular But this is easier said than done. Too often feet by any” religious practices. So, why should there be we are influenced by what we are being fed a strategy to duplicate their policies when or by our allegiance to our cultural or they are not worthy of emulation? religious socialization. I recall as a child watching in shock at my newly converted As Indians in the diaspora, we can truly cousins who refrained from performing the pride ourselves as being a united last Hindu religious rites for our community of Hindu, Muslim and Christian grandfather’s burial. Religion is a natural people. I always felt as I was growing up divisive force says Freud. We have watched in Hindu home, that the greatness of my throughout history how wars were waged religious teachings lay in its unequivocal in the name of this or that religion. So how acceptance of all. There was never an does one rise above our self-imposed emphasis on the other. Unlike revealed identities. Modis India today , the once religions there was no injunction to keep proudest and largest democracy in the away from others or to let them in or out. world is being ravaged by religious There are no conversion rites and rituals fanaticism. Non Hindus are being targeted for Hindus. That is why Gandhi said….. as marginalised people who have to prove “Yes I am, I am also a Muslim, a Christian, their indigenous status in subtle and a Buddhist, and a Jew.” This world view blatant ways. The controversial Citizens resonates well with me. As a child growing Amendment Bill is the most divisive and up on the Berea with every racial hue, we What does it mean to be a Hindu? Shashi alienating attempt to lacerate the human visited the Basha Peer for blessings, Tharoor in his book by the same title says topography of a once rich heritage. Can you walked alongside Muslim believers of imagine an India bereft of its rich Mogul Moharam, went to Catholic schools and That the essence of Hinduism which influence in art, architecture, delectable learnt to sing the beautiful hymns, came stands for tolerance and acceptance of cuisine, exotic dress and music. Can you home and learnt to sing bhajans all in total other faiths is under siege in India today imagine no Taj Mahal, no mosques, no harmony in the essence of oneness. This is on account of a cohort of Hinduvites who classical musicians of the Vilayat Khan why I am quoted to have said that I would see their religion as a singular force to be Garana? Can you imagine no kofta kabaabs walk to the end of the earth to preserve the defended and protected against an and Hydrabhadi Biryani? As Modis beauty of a universal sense of who I am. invasion of outside forces. He sees this Majoritarian India takes over will it project as one that is hijacking the very eradicate all traces of its rich and diverse essence of a free and open thinking. In all Dr. Devi Rajab is a well- minorities one by one? And become of this he wants to start an internal respected South another Pakistan? Or a Saudi Arabia where dialogue amongst Hindus about who they no one is allowed to sport any non-Muslim African journalist and are and what they really stand for. religious symbols like dots and crosses. In former Dean of incantations Kabir the 14th century sage Student Development Believers all claim that there is one Creator ponders: If you say you’re a Brahmin, of human kind and yet they are prepared to at UKZN and the author Born of a mother who is Brahmin, Was fight and die for their own personal God. of several books. there a special canal through which you India today a once proud example of the were born? If you say you’re a Turk And greatest and largest democracy in the your mothers a Turk, Why weren’t you world is under strain over the very issues circumcised before Birth? of religion and culture. In wanting to build

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CONFLUENCE 05/01/2020

Malathy’s Musings The Indian Shop

by Malathy Sitaram

The highlight of my week is my visit to world between themselves and fought serendipitous, transported as I am to a the local Indian shop on Wednesdays. numerous wars against each other on miniature India with all the noise and We call it the Indian shop although it foreign soil. The British ousted the linguistic Babel. I don’t think that in and a couple of others are run by Portuguese from their top dog role in India I would feel similarly exhilarated persons of Pakistani or Bangladeshi India. And similarly, they dispatched because I am not in the minority there. origin. It is Indian as far as we are the French and the Dutch by the end of There’s a thought! concerned because it sells Indian the eighteenth century. vegetables and seasonal fruit as well as Fresh produce arrives on Wednesday all the spices used in Indian cookery. An Ah, the joy of speaking Hindi to the man morning. A man drives at dawn to a array of different lentils are available at the till. Joy because I did not know I huge market in Southall, not far from too. In short everything needed for an could do it! The brain whose mysteries Heathrow airport, fills up his van with Indian meal. Besides were we not all of have not been fully fathomed has Indian vegetables, drives back and lays us of Indian origin not so long ago? At secreted in some part of it the language out the boxes of fresh veg. and fruit in a the back of the shop a butcher deals which I hardly ever used in India as all line on the shop floor by 9.30 a.m. with orders for joints of mutton or my friends spoke English. Both my These shops are quite small, lined with chicken. parents spoke fluent English when shelves that are packed with tins and necessary but communicated in Tamil packets and jars. An aroma of dry spices My weekly shopping there is a highlight within the family setting. How do I hangs over the shop. The freezers are because I love being in the midst of know these words I ask myself? What packed with tropical fish without which fellow Indians, some of whom I may neural pathway facilitates this fluency? Bangladeshis cannot live. We get know but above all because I get a And why do I feel so happy using it excellent frozen parathas and chapatis chance to speak in Hindi, the national when I hardly ever used it in India? and samosas produced in the UK. language of India, with the owner and Most of my Indian friends here in one or two of his employees. I hardly Britain often converse in Hindi. With Whilst I was a school teacher, I would ever spoke Hindi, the Indian national them I dry up and cannot speak Hindu go to the shop round 4.30pm and fill my language in India as it was superseded fluently. In the shop, most people do not basket with Indian vegetables such as by English for me and such others who know who I am and perhaps this is what Brinjal, Lady’s fingers, Drumsticks, attended Anglo-Indian schools in green Beans, coriander leaves and curry which the medium of instruction leaves. From April to July, the to this day is English. My mother shop is crowded because it is the tongue is Tamil, a South Indian mango season. Crates of language in which sadly I am not Alphonso mangoes from India literate and my vocabulary and and other equally delicious grammar (somewhat limited) varieties such as Kesar, fill the would horrify a purist. I hardly shop with their heavenly aroma ever spoke Hindi in India as it that titillates the senses with the took third place in my school in promise of luscious delight. Most Bombay, after English and of us customers will indulge in an secondly, French which was orgy of eating mangoes for at taught as a second language. least two months. Every morning Most Indians speak more than at breakfast, I eat one large, one language. There are eighteen luscious, golden orange fruit languages spoken in India as right through May, June and July well as hundreds of dialects. In Indian spurs me on. We were taught Hindi in and feel the better for it! Over cities, the middle and upper class would my convent school from the age of indulgence is not a good idea. My be able to speak fluent English as well twelve and I just about scraped through mother would say that too many as their mother tongues and especially the final exam as I had little opportunity mangoes would overheat the body and in Bombay where I went to school and to speak it elsewhere. I cannot read or cause boils. University. We English speaking lot write in my mother tongue, Tamil. This The owner of the shop is a Muslim but used the name, ‘Bombay’ whilst it was was because my mother who had a we can buy special sweetmeats are always ‘Mumbai’ for non-English degree in physics from Madras available for Diwali, Eid and Christmas. speakers. university and spoke English fluently, Generally, the shoppers look cheerful did not force us children to learn to read and are not is a hurry. I go home pleased St. Anne’s is the name of my school and or write Tamil. even today, a much sought-after that I have obtained the veggies my Catholic convent school. Such schools During the mango season, there is mother prepared so well long, long ago were founded under British rule almost a scrimmage to get the nectar and which will see us through another probably as early as the beginning of bearing boxes. The most common week. the nineteenth century. We English language heard is Gujerati, reflecting the Malathy Sitaram was speaking lot used the name Bombay huge influx of Gujeratis from Africa in whilst it has always been Mumbai for the70’s. there are also Punjabi speakers, the first Asian to non-English speakers. I continue to use plenty of newly arrived Goans speaking teach English in the name, ‘Bombay’ which is of Konkani and some people from South Wiltshire Schools and Portuguese origin. It is an island which India with its variety of languages, one simultaneously, the was gifted to the British in the 16th or of which is my mother tongue. Bengalis first Asian to be th 17 century by the Portuguese king as too. For the half hour that I spend in the appointed to the Swindon Bench of dowry when their princess married an shop I feel quite Justices of the Peace. Now retired, English prince. That was the period when Europeans began to divide the she is just as busy.

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CONFLUENCE 05/01/2020

Three poems COVID-19 By Anita Nahal

Ache

One day…one day…one day Who would have known? For a chance to say hello, or bye… Would have guessed? Wouldn’t be any other pink-cherry way The tidings of the ominous torn Outside the ER waits the final goodbye At the fusing of an obsessed No more held Virus gone berserk Nor kissed Pointing a singed finger at the lurk Nor hands clasped On almost bare streets No more first-time romance Sounding fearful beats. Nor growing old together Who would have dreamt? Instead folks are fuming for a new glow Humans would ache, ache, ache On a fresh positive tableau Harder than at a normal wake Another kind of breather. So lost, so defeated. For now, I wait, looking, seeking, trying to simply inhale Did people not think when they were alert? A whiff of the past as I wait for the recovery mail. One day such a haunting ache would assert?

Corona and love-life layers

Layers of love and life are crumbling, some are mixing…some decomposing, some disappearing. It’s said humans are social animals, yet some are still unapologetically crude, arrogant, asinine. Some just don’t wish to be bothered. Some don’t respond. Or connect. Some are merely self-protecting. Some have no choice over the virus. Some say its punishment… even animals are ashamed of us. And Gods don’t know what more to tell us about kindness and giving. History hasn’t been good. The slave markets, lynchings, murders, rapes, opulence, greed, evil gratification, wars, conflicts, boats of begging refugees left to putrefy, leaving little kids famished, breathing their last on scalped beaches or with their small bodies burning without recovery, without mothers, crying and dying alone on impersonal makeshift tent hospital beds. Animals were not spared either. There’s an unusual hush. So eerie even a skeleton in a cemetery is scared, knocking on tombstones, begging other skeletons to keep him company for a while. Some humans could only hear themselves running in grey, opaque skies, densely crowded with cumbersome, soiled clouds standing around menacingly. And the sun didn’t want to join the uncalled-for cruel party. Stood afar pondering, “Shall I give them a bit of heat? Do they deserve it, yet?” On the sad flip, the streets had ample fresh air and the ozone was stronger. Trees too were a lusher green. One strength replaced by the other. Layers had almost crumbled, conflated, almost disappeared…darkened with soot still trying to remain alive like prettily enticing yet doomed embers on smoldering paper edges.

See the blue sky again

I told my tears, “you go ahead, I need to take some rest.” They hurried along, even more alone Without my eyes holding them close. They ran past desolate television screens And exhausted folks with N-95 masks Hazmat-ed hospitals full of fouled beds Had rats trailing corona banshees And the drains lay mum full of the dead While the alive lay hunched against urinated walls The air was falling With the weight of the petrified A professor, writer, administrator among And I was forced to turn down the volume other hats she wears, Anita Nahal Turn everyone off currently teaches at UDC, Washington DC. And dragging my muddied cloaks Two books of poetry, a book of flash I tore the sky apart fictions, three books for children and a My nails splintered novel just penned keeps Anita creatively But who cared? empathetic! For more on Nahal: I just wanted to see the blue sky again. https://anitanahal.wixsite.com/anitanahal

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CONFLUENCE 05/01/2020

Lockdown Edifice of humanity by Ananya Guha

We have often talked about the world and contagious nature of the disease. deaths. The innate human goodness as a global community, And we cite We mingled superstition too, trying came to the fore as good samaritans the internet as a working force to shoo away the virus by beating started garnering food, shelter and behind this. So everything is virtual drums and sounding gongs.The fear clothes for the poor and daily wage from commerce to conferences and was ubiquitous, crossing boundaries workers. We realised that technology even chats. We wave to each other of countries. And the world ironically which is a means not an end, could through virtual mechanisms. What became one and borderless. It was not be an antidote. It is only the we forget is that we are slowly losing not technology which brought the human touch, the human the human touch, why even love and world together but a deadly virus and transcendental love for human marriages are made through the of course technology which lay firmly beings. Here in Shillong many virtual world. The virtual world and saddled of being both an agent provo individual and social and religious the real overlap in a way, that one cateur and a virtue continued to play groups are rendering yeoman service cannot distinguish one from the its double edged role. Rumours and to the poor and homeless. This shows other. Information is garnered from wrong advisories were rampant.New that human beings can rise over the virtual world. This is the world of terminologies such as social technology and rise in oneness for information explosion. We have distancing, which actually meant the poor, irrespective of virtual classrooms and online physical distancing entered our circumstances irrespective of caste, learning. True the internet has vocabulary. This became truly an community and creed. revolutionised our lives, radicalised existential predicament. No ontology Let us be clear of one thing. our social, political Technology can and educational only be the moorings. But we means to serve soon realised its an end. The end ambivalence in the is human good or form of fake news benignity. The and hate talk in end is man social networking serving man, the sites. So the global end is love and a community soon common good. had fissures within For too long have it. Technology was we thought that both boon and bane, materialistic but optimists benefits are for continued to have the common faith in its virtues good. Yes it is if it although terrorists is continued to use it equalitarianism. exponentially. It But this is not so was a complexity in India and the that only human or philosophy here but a crass reality world. Could technology fight this beings in a state of reflection could and an engulfing fear throughout the disruption that was caused world comprehend. The choice was simple: country and the world. And we will over? No we depended on human use it positively or for subversive have to live with it for days to come. restrictions to curb, mind you not things. Love co existed with hate. How will technology help us here cure the menace. Then came the corona virus afflicting unless we have a vaccine to combat The good life Bertrand Russell once the whole world and rumours and this dreaded disease? When will it said in his essay ‘ What I Believe” is false news also spread through the come? WHO says twelve to eighteen one which is inspired by love and internet. But the virus brought months, that is a pretty long time, guided by knowledge. We have made together the whole world and our and the virus scientists say will be a beginning, let love and rationality country in a common fight against around. People have likened this to a be the twin concomitants to build and the sickness. And the clarion call was war, the Third World War. And what strengthen the edifice of humanity. to battle it out to safeguard your was the only way of fighting it: health. This was a real scare where physical distancing, we of course use Ananya S Guha has every individual thought that he or the misnomer ‘ social distancing’ but been born and she might be a victim. The world was as long as the virulence continues brought up in one and so our country. Soon there may be actual social distancing. Shillong, Meghalaya teaching became purely online as We will be fearful and apprehensive INDIA. His poems students were at home, outside the of meeting each other and talking to have been published four walls of the classroom. Social each other, and have no option but to in various journals, magazines, ezines in India and interaction continued through social fall back upon the World Wide Web networking sites, but ironically to fulfil our gregarious ends. abroad. Currently he is Regional enough we were pleading for a social Director Indira Gandhi National Open In between we saw reverse migration University. distancing, considering the virulence in India where there were tragic

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CONFLUENCE 05/01/2020

Humour Hear This! By Dawood Ali McCallum

I have big ears. There we are. I’ve said the rigorously policed ‘short back and The haircut was OK, I suppose. Some it. I’ve come out. After a lifetime in sides’ hair regime at school. College rather flamboyant and, to my mind denial, it’s time I embrace the profound offered freedom, further education and totally unnecessary scissor work, but dimensions of my lug-holes. They’re joy of joys, the opportunity to grow my then the man clearly considered himself whoppers. And that’s not the half of it. lush, brown locks shoulder length and something of an artist so who am I to They’re not only unnaturally large, they finally hide my massive ears. Two years criticise? Then he frowned and stared, stick out and worst of all, the left one of a safe space. Happy days. Then what somewhat hungrily I thought, at my protrudes at a completely different happened? My hair thinned and ears. angle from it’s partner in aesthetic promptly started to fall out. Early onset crime on the right. baldness! The good Lord can be He nodded once, his mind made up and surprisingly cruel sometimes. But no reached for a bottle of Methylated As a child in the playground I’d be one can deny he has a sense of humour, Spirits, a piece of wire with a ball of taunted, ‘’Oy? Jug- handles!” “Dumbo!” even if it is a pretty unkind one. cotton wool on the end of it and a Even the odd teacher (actually, cigarette lighter. come to think of it, most of my teachers were odd, but that’s a I glanced desperately into the discussion for another therapy mirror. My son looked up from session), even a supposedly his phone, smiled and nodded professional educator couldn’t encouragingly back at me. resist a smart-arsed observation at the expense of The cotton wool was dipped my auricular protuberances. into the methylated spirits. The slightest inattention on There was a quick shake to my part would prompt a smile, dispense with excess alcohol. a raised eyebrow, an The ball was ignited, flared exaggerated glance around the with a whoosh and burst of room to check the class of blue flame and was flicked small-eared sycophants had theatrically into one ear, then picked up that he was about to the other. It hurt and there attempt a witticism at someone’s was an unpleasant, scorching expense. Then, “Goodness, I’m surprised So, me: my ears. Not best friends. Yet aroma. anyone with those ears didn’t manage to strangely as I age they seem to exert an I looked, wide-eyed at my son’s hear what I just said!” ever more powerful attraction to men in the hairdressing profession. I have had refection. He looked back. But was that Much laughter, mostly in relief that it cause to make a passing reference to one a smile on his face or a smirk? My was someone else who was today’s such incident in a previous article in this glower in return sufficed to discourage target. What a sad loss to the comedy august journal. Why should a haircut him from taking the photo on his phone circuit is was when ‘Sir’ chose the involve one’s ears at all? For goodness he had clearly been contemplating. classroom over the stage. sake! I have very little hair: My needs are sadly constrained by nature and Perhaps I should be glad my ears give And what would my ears invariably do easily summarised in words: No. 1, all others so much pleasure. But does it when their owner was so cruelly over. That’s it. At no point do my ears get move my relationship with them further mocked? Would they have the decency to a mention. So why can’t these coiffeurs forward? Do we, after uncomfortably shrink shyly away to avoid drawing leave the damned things alone? living together for so long, advance further attention to themselves? Would toward some rapprochement? Sadly not. they flap intimidatingly like those of an In Mumbai, a recent trim involved the Because those pink embarrassments of enraged bull elephant? No! They’d barber thrusting his index finger deep my youth have become the leathery betray me further, turning such a vivid into my ear and indulging himself in a shade of puce they could have been used lengthy bit of electronically enhanced traitors of my maturity. “Me, Officer? to signal to low flying aircraft. wiggling about which was extremely Exceeding the speed limit? Surely there unpleasant, profoundly invasive and in must be some mistake?” Not even worth Entering my teens, they became an some cultures probably constitutes a a try. “No, of course I didn’t put the red absolute obsession. For a few weeks, criminal offence. But I am a traveller: I sock in with the whites on boil wash.” much to my long-suffering parents’ embrace the exotic. At least, I thought on Forget it. Because those blighters on bemusement, part of my preparation for return to the UK I could confine such either side of my head will glow anew, bed was to attach adhesive tape to each auricular abuses to memories of but now with smug condemnation. It’s ear and secure them tightly to my head journeys past. not easy navigating the complexities of in the hope I could train them to behave modern life with lie detectors on either more like everyone else’s. I would Then my son persuaded me to forsake side of your head. literally pin my ears back. the local barber who has enjoyed my custom for decades in favour of the new, Needless to say, next morning they trendy establishment he patronised. I Dawood Ali McCallum is the author of a series of sprang out in all their former, wayward blame myself. I should have known novels published in India glory on the removal of the tape. They better. and the UK. Learn more at hurt terribly too. Brief salvation came a www. dawoodalimccallum.com few years later when I finally escaped

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CONFLUENCE 05/01/2020

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