Literary Vibes - Edition CLXVIII (28-Aug-2026) - POEMS & BOOK REVIEW
Title : Journey towards light (Water colour Pencil by Lathaprem Sakhya)
An acclaimed Painter, a published poet, a self-styled green woman passionately planting fruit trees, a published translator, and a former Professor, Lathaprem Sakhya, was born to Tamil parents settled in Kerala. Widely anthologized, she is a regular contributor of poems, short stories and paintings to several e-magazines and print books. Recently published anthologies in which her stories have come out are Ether Ore, Cocoon Stories, and He She It: The Grammar of Marriage. She is a member of the executive board of Aksharasthree the Literary Woman and editor of the e - magazines - Aksharasthree and Science Shore. She is also a vibrant participant in 5 Poetry groups. Aksharasthree - The Literary Woman, Literary Vibes, India Poetry Circle and New Voices and Poetry Chain. Her poetry books are Memory Rain, 2008, Nature At My Doorstep, 2011 and Vernal Strokes, 2015. She has done two translations of novels from Malayalam to English, Kunjathol 2022, (A translation of Shanthini Tom's Kunjathol) and Rabboni 2023 ( a Translation of Rosy Thampy's Malayalam novel Rabboni) and currently she is busy with two more projects.
Dear Readers,
Welcome to the 168th edition of LiteraryVibes.
Greetings on the auspicious day of Raksha Bandhan. May God bless and protect all the brothers and sisters of the world. May peace and prosperity enrich their lives.
The month of August reminds us of the hard-fought independence our country won on 15th August 1947. The numerous freedom fighters led by Mahatma Gandhi, the indomitable Father of the Nation, achieved a feat unprecedented in the history of mankind - emancipation of a nation through the weapon of non-violence. From this day, independent and sovereign India became the apostle of peace, a fore-runner of non-violent struggles all over the world.
We, as the embodiment of such a unique heritage, have the responsibility of carrying the country forward through our dedication and hard work. The path is arduous and the challenges are many. But it is our everyday action, the resolve to do the good deed when the need arises, that will propel the nation forward. As small drops of rain make the ocean, and small grains of sand and stone build a mountain, our everyday action will collectively strengthen the country.
I came across a beautiful story in the internet last week which taught me the value of compassion - small acts which make the fabric of the society strong. Let me present the story here. The authorship is unknown, but whoever has written it, deserves our salute and gratitude.
SOME ACTS ARE PRICELESS
A woman walked into a small restaurant one afternoon to have lunch alone.
She ordered her meal and quietly waited while the restaurant buzzed with conversations around her. A few minutes later, the waiter placed a warm plate of food in front of her.
Just as she was about to start eating, she noticed something through the window.
Outside, standing near the glass, was a father and his young daughter.
They weren’t begging. They weren’t knocking on the door.
They were simply looking at the food with tired, hungry eyes.
The little girl kept glancing at the woman’s plate before quickly looking away again, almost embarrassed to be caught staring.
For a moment, the woman looked down at her own meal.
Then she smiled and gently motioned for them to come inside.
The father hesitated at first, clearly uncomfortable, but eventually he and his daughter slowly entered the restaurant and sat at the table beside her.
The woman handed them the menu and kindly said, “Order whatever you’d like.”
The little girl shyly looked toward the dishes being served around the restaurant, while her father quietly tried to refuse out of pride. But the woman insisted.
Soon, two hot meals were brought to the table.
As the father and daughter began eating, the woman watched silently. The little girl smiled between bites, and the father’s eyes filled with gratitude he could barely put into words.
For a short moment, their worries seemed to disappear.
After finishing their food, the father stood up, thanked the woman sincerely, and left with his daughter, both carrying smiles that hadn’t been there before.
Later, when the woman finished her own lunch, she walked to the counter to pay the bill.
But when the waiter handed it to her, she noticed something unusual.
The total was blank.
Instead, there was a handwritten note from the restaurant owner:
“We don’t have a calculator capable of measuring the value of humanity.”
The woman stood there speechless.
Because sometimes the smallest act of kindness becomes something far greater than money can ever repay.
And in a world where many people walk past suffering without noticing it, compassion remains one of the most powerful things a person can offer.
................
I hope you loved the story as much as I did. Let us admit, there are patches of great sorrow in the world, places of prosperity are but tiny islands in the vastness of human existence. Let us resolve to contribute in our own way to make the world a better place to live. That would be a great Independence month resolve.
Please share the following links of LiteraryVibes with all your friends and contacts:
https://positivevibes.today/article/newsview/645 (Poems and Book Reviews)
https://positivevibes.today/article/newsview/646 (Stories, Short Travelogues and Anecdotes (1))
https://positivevibes.today/article/newsview/647 (Stories, Short Travelogues and Anecdotes (2))
https://positivevibes.today/article/newsview/644 (Young Magic)
Hope you remember that all the 168 editions of LiteraryVibes are available at https://positivevibes.today/literaryvibes
Please post your comments on the poems and other articles in the Comments Box located at the bottom of each page. That will be a big encouragement to the poets and writers.
Dear friends, relax, enjoy the excellent fare offered in LV168. Take care, stay safe, till we meet again on the 25th September, last Friday of the coming month.
With warm regards
Mrutyunjay Sarangi
Editor, LiteraryVibes
Bhubaneswar, the 28th August, 2026
Table of Contents :: Poems
01) Prabhanjan K. Mishra
CELEBRATING A LOSS
OUR CONSCIENCES
02) Dilip Mohapatra
03) Bibhu Padhi
04) Abani Udgata
05) Pradeep Kumar Biswal
06) Sathya Venkatesh
07) Snehaprava Das
08) Shreya Suraj
09) Braja K Sorkar
WHAT SHOULD I WRITE TO YOU
NOW AND THEN
10) Dr Major Nalini Janardhanan
11) Sujata Dash
12) Dr Nanda Kishore Biswal
13) S. Sundar Rajan
14) Lata Krishnan
15) Dr Beena Anil
16) Dr. Rekha Mohanty
17) Lopamudra Mishra
18) Sudipta Mishra
19) Kunal Roy
20) Dr Bichitra Kumar Behura
LIKE TWO UNKNOWN STRANGERS
WAIT AND SEEK
21) Dr. S. Padmapriya
22) Darsana Kalarickal
23) Bipin Patsani
24) Manjula Asthana Mahanti
25) Subrat Mishra
26) Matralina Pati
27) Leena Thampi
28) Baldev Samantaray
29) Syamala Haridas
30) Anindita Sen
31) Swatishree Parija
32) Hussein Habassh
33) Dr R. S.Tewari
DISCERNS AND CONFIRMS
ECHO THE PRAYER TO ALMIGHTY
FRAGRANT TOTALITY
UNLESS THE GARDEN IS GUARDED
34) Dr. Rajamouly Katta
35) Pankhuri Sinha
36) Dr. Protiva Rani Karmaker
THE COPPERSMITH BARBET AS MY FRIEND
37) Satyabrata Mahalik
38) Mrs. Setaluri Padmavathi
39) Dr. Niranjan Barik
40) Dr. Mrutyunjay Sarangi
Table of Contents :: Book Review
01) Pravat Kumar Padhy
THE GREATEST SWEEPSTAKE BY HEMA RAVI, 2026
02) Dr. Ajay Narayanan
A MUST-READ STORY OF "A JIVE DOWN MEMORY LANE", AN EAGLE`S VIEW
CELEBRATING A LOSS
Prabhanjan K. Mishra
How invisible is this night!
It has wrapped itself in the dark's arms.
How deaf is this wind!
Its footfalls echo a silence.
Its breath is stilled in time.
My loss is absolute; nothing left to lose.
You left when I was not home.
You left for good, I cannot believe.
What was the hurry? You hid
like the river Saraswati, never to surface,
leaving me, your good-for-nothing 'Nobody'?
Whatever was I, but not an expendable fancy?
Tonight, I sit down to a ritual dinner
with the mourners in the light of earthen lamps,
your absence sitting by my side;
chrysanthemums wilting in their vase -
detached, pale – perhaps, my alter ego.
The lentil soup turning into dishwater.
Would I not wait for you, no more?
Keeping aside food, your side of bed,
waiting with joy, passing on to a sulk.
Your loss has swallowed my tears,
leaving me dry-eyed, free to build
another nest in any vacant lot.
Yet I keep aside food, bed, and joy
basking in hope, hoping for the improbable,
leaving my vacant lot widowed, empty,
for your tent to be pitched again there,
you blowing as a cool southerly breeze
in summer, a warm westerly wind in winter.
OUR CONSCIENCES
Prabhanjan K. Mishra
They met, your conscience and mine,
a blind date between unknown daters.
Yours came with unadulterated grace;
mine tried to outdo – salt pepper, coarsening skin,
a hint of fine lines and some crow feet,
a bit bent, lurching gait and tired look.
Sweeping aside Botox, silicone,
tightening and lifting devices, nose jobs,
chin jobs and the reaping harvests
of hair on the scalp. Not to offend each other
they ask each other to bed, praised how desirable
one was to the other, as we were doing these days!
Yours did not jump into the arms of my conscience
or the vice versa, as exactly was our norm recently;
but yours had a different grace from mine,
your conscience wore no smirk or sneer
as you never wore for me, rather a tad bit sadness
for the inadequacy, drying of the alluvial.
Yours basked in bed by the side of my conscience
as Miss Grace, a languorous, tired dolphin
sunning on the beach, offering platter
after platter of beg-your-pardon coyly:
and an invite loaded with aromatic petals, herbs,
despite scraggy grass, gnarled barks.
I asked you, “Honey, whose conscience won?”
“It was no duel, but a date”, you said, “They were no rivals,
rather, our complementing nuances leading
us to reach the belfry, finding
the Big Ben, and chiming the time ahead -
picking a thousand thrills, but without frills.
(END)
Prabhanjan K. Mishra is an award-winning Indian poet from India, besides being a story writer, translator, editor, and critic; a former president of Poetry Circle, Bombay (Mumbai), an association of Indo-English poets. He edited POIESIS, the literary magazine of this poets’ association for eight years. His poems have been widely published, his own works and translation from the works of other poets. He has published three books of his poems and his poems have appeared in twenty anthologies in India and abroad.
It’s not about nothingness
and absences
but about existence of one
with the other—
It’s about Krishna lying
on his mother’s lap
his whole Universe
and the entire Cosmos
seen in his yawn.
It’s about the ocean
that contains millions of drops
and a drop
containing the entire ocean.
The fulfilment
that one finds in deprivation
and the contentment
that springs from renunciation.
It’s about the fragrance
that lingers long after
the flower is gone
and the symphony
that echoes in your ears
after the music stops—
It’s about the essence
of divine presence
in the non-appearance
of any physical form.
Dilip Mohapatra writes poems that dwell at the threshold where the tangible yields to the ineffable. Rather than describing the world, they uncover the hidden correspondences that bind its disparate realms. Quietly meditative yet intellectually alert, his poetry invites the reader to move beyond appearances into a space where the finite touches the infinite and every ending gestures towards a larger wholeness.
A globally published author, he has to his credit eleven poetry collections, two short story collections and two professional books.Winner of multiple International Awards and recognitions he writes from Pune and is a regular contributor to Literary Vibes. His email id is dilipmohapatra@gmail.com
The inertia of winter
has enveloped my slow brain.
I take the help of infinity
and words from
Cesare Pavese,
Salvatore Quasimodo.
I stay with them
for a long time.
The uncommon January rain
is falling on the windowpanes.
Its voice is deep and dark.
The drumstick trees shine.
I wait, consuming large cups
of green tea, chewing tobacco.
A sharp wind from the north carries
stories of a lost summer time.
How else does one wait?
How does one greet the first words?
The rain is still falling on the road
in front of my brief house,
inviting me to receive its touch.
I go out, stand in the rain.
Words from a fairy land arrive;
I do not know how they came.
Bibhu Padhi was born on 16 January 1951 in Cuttack, Odisha.He studied at Ravenshaw College, Cuttack for Master of Arts in English literature in 1971. He received a Doctor of Letters (D.Litt.) from Utkal University in 1991 in English literature. He has 19 volumes of poetry in English and 5 volumes of poetry in Odia. His poems have been included in numerous anthologies. He has also authored a novel, called Absences. He has written a book on D.H.Lawrence, " D.H.Lawrence: Modes of Fictional Style " and also "Indian Philosophy and Religion : A Reader's Guide ".
A TINKLE ON PHONE
Abani Udgata
A quiet tinkle
On the phone
As if a knock on
The screen .
Outside a message
Stands with an offer
Of a 10 lakh loan.
Says, hello, the chosen one
Take it , this is for you.
Why me, I never asked for.
It says, then you write STOP.
No more shall a messenger
come with a sudden knock
But wait for 24 hrs.
Till then it may come again.
You say, but who wants you,
The unsolicited intruder?
Here they wait every year
For the monsoon to come
In time but El Niño arrives
Like you, outside the screen .CommentHighlight
Children burn midnight oil
And keep the candle aglow to
lead them out to wide expanse
And then the wind,
The unsolicited intruder
Blows off the candles and
Offers a loan of 10 lakh, never asked.
They go out in tens and thousands
To ask the rain that stings the eyes
In Jantar Mantar
And bump in to teargas shells .
Out on the street a cow
Looks at the billboard
The smiling faces of lovely
hero and a heroine.
Wonder what she thinks
Of the bright sky, the stars
And the customary happiness
Of the flowers flanking them
As if on duty.
And that tinkle on phone
Goes and comes.
Abani Udgata lives in Bhubaneswar. Writes poems both in English and Odia. Udgata has been awarded in all-India poetry competitions and published in anthologies. He has been a regular contributor to LV. Email: abaniudgata@gmail.com
IN THE END
Pradeep Kumar Biswal
In the end
We all would turn
To be stories one day
Let’s not forget
It should be
Worth reading !
The night is growing old
My heart goes heavier
The missiles hurled at Hormuz
Instantly hurt my heart
Oozing blood
Can I sleep anymore ?
Donald Trump
Might be having
A sleepless night too
Watching the drones flying
In the air over Iranian soil
Which story would be
Headlines tomorrow.
A poet can never find space
In the headlines
In any media ever
It’s reserved for those
Who care less for humanity
And more about their ego.
History is replete
With stories about war
Resulting in loss of human lives
Not poetry healing the souls
Through consoling words.
Whose stories worth reading ?
Pradeep Biswal is a distinguished bilingual poet, translator and editor. He has nine poetry collections in Odia and three in English. His poems have been translated into Hindi, Telugu, Punjabi, Assamese and Malay languages and got published in separate volumes. He’s the curator of Toshali Literature Festival and editor of monthly web magazine kabitalive.com. A retired IAS officer, he’s staying with his family in Bhubaneswar.
THE TRUE TASTE OF FREEDOM
Sathya Venkatesh
After nine months of pregnancy
She bore the child
The weight unloaded
She ought to have felt free
Little did she realise
That the heavier phase of “motherhood” had just begun
Sleepless through the night
Working through the day
With 24 hours not enough
She ended up like a zombie
Just the baby’s face made her rejoice
Giving her the strength to carry on with poise
The day she saw her child off to work
She hugged him tightly, shedding tears of joy
Not only for him but for herself as well
That same day…
She glanced at all her certificates and trophies galore
For debates, academics, painting and poetry won so long ago
She took up a job, started writing
Found her ikigai, there was no returning
She experienced freedom in its fullest form
The load released finally, she enjoyed the calm.
Hailing from Coimbatore and with a background in Economics, Sathya Venkatesh has always been passionate about English literature and poetry. After fifteen years as a freelance content writer, she transitioned to teaching English to government school students. She finds joy in poetry, travel, painting and Indian Philosophy which she feels deepens an understanding of self and fuels her creativity. She has published haiku poems on reputed journals such as haikuKatha, Haikuniverse and Autumn Moon Journal. She firmly believes in a higher purpose guiding her path.
For eyes that look up at the stars for life
In moonless nights,
Every jungle is a garden of jasmines
Every abandoned step is for a climb to the pleasant heights,
Every face in the crowd is a mirror
Every morning is a joy of its own kind
Every darkness in the forgotten alleyes
Is a luminius silhouette from a world left behind,
In loving everything and all
Every moment comes alive
A block of private sorrow melts to a river
At every tear that floods the unknown-eyes;
Time grows into us like a tangled
Mass of roots, burrowing down to
Discover the beginning of pain
And our souls spread out across
The prison of shadows to touch one another and live again,
To reach beyond the point
Where all time blend into one another
To become a forever moment of love,
Where all the saints and savages inside us stand smiling in their
unsoiled,luminous robe;
Dr.Snehaprava Das, former Associate Professor of English, is an acclaimed translator of Odisha. She has translated a number of Odia texts, both classic and contemporary into English. Among the early writings she had rendered in English, worth mentioning are FakirMohan Senapati's novel Prayaschitta (The Penance) and his long poem Utkala Bhramanam, which is believed to be a.poetic journey through Odisha's cultural space(A Tour through Odisha). As a translator Dr.Das is inclined to explore the different possibilities the act of translating involves, while rendering texts of Odia in to English.Besides being a translator Dr.Das is also a poet and a story teller and has five anthologies of English poems to her credit. Her recently published title Night of the Snake (a collection of English stories) where she has shifted her focus from the broader spectrum of social realities to the inner conscious of the protagonist, has been well received by the readers. Her poems display her effort to transport the individual suffering to a heightened plane of the universal.
Dr. Snehaprava Das has received the Prabashi Bhasha Sahitya Sammana award The Intellect (New Delhi), The Jivanananda Das Translation award (The Antonym, Kolkata), and The FakirMohan Sahitya parishad award(Odisha) for her translation.
The weekend had arrived at last,
A day of faith was moving fast.
Temple after temple, I made my way,
Seeking blessings throughout the day.
Haldi, kumkum and vibhuthi adorned my brow,
My heart felt lighter than ever now.
Wrapped in devotion, calm and bright,
My soul was filled with peaceful light.
Then suddenly, I gasped in delight
A glowing crimson spark in the night!
My heart leapt high with wonder untold;
Surely this was a sight to behold.
"Look!" I cried to all my friends
"Can you see that shining red star?I
t's glowing so brightly, not very far!"
Excitement spread from face to face;
Every mind began to race.
"A UFO?" "A heavenly sign?"
"A new planet? Something divine?"
Phones came out from every side;
We zoomed and clicked with growing pride.
Our theories grew both wild and grand,
Each more unbelievable than planned.
Then from behind, a young voice rang,
Simple, clear, without a twang:
"Aunty... that's an electrical tower.
It's just the warning light on top."
Silence.
Then laughter echoed through us all.
Our lofty dreams had had a fall.
The tower emerged from the cloak of night,
Plain as day in the fading light.
We left the final temple that day,
A little wiser in a gentle way,
For sometimes faith can lift us high,
But wonder, unchecked, can fool the eye.
And often,
the brightest lesson we receive
Is to smile at ourselves
before we blindly believe.
Shreya Suraj is a mathematician, artist, photographer, poet, and environmentalist. She is the founder of the global art group Anybody Can Draw on Facebook, which has grown to a community of over 30,000 members. She has conducted more than 300 art workshops worldwide and has actively participated in over 400 beach clean-up drives in Qatar. In addition, she volunteers in tree-planting initiatives and sustainability campaigns. Deeply passionate about creative expression and nature, she believes that we have one Earth and that it is our collective responsibility to protect it for future generations.
WHAT SHOULD I WRITE TO YOU
Braja K Sorkar
What should I write to you?
I didn't understand what I wrote while thinking today.
You say it's a slip of the tongue, or maybe it's just a fantasy;
nothing was written just to send you the pain of some words.
Can you ever write to me like this?
I want to write of summer,
I want to write of monsoon,
I want to write of winter sunshine and morning dew.
No, I couldn't write anything,
so today I created a loom to write to you.
Some words were written in the wordless,
colorless sky of Chaitra
on your mobile phone;
some were written in the dear darkness.
Who would write them?
a)
As I was walking from the school to my home,
I saw the cloud of puberty lingering.
There were fierce snakes lurking at every bend of the road.
I reached into my pocket and threw pebbles and stones towards the sky.
The school bell rang, and the headmaster's index finger came rushing in.
b)
A strange world, far, far away from my world.
Every day I went to that world, unnoticed by everyone.
I was surrounded by a deep sea and a group of indifferent sailors.
After a few more days, I crossed over and returned to this dark world.
There were no colors here—a wasteland without sound or climate.
Since I had never learned geometry, the ephemeral grass woke up in the fields.
c)
One day I scattered a handful of seeds of desire in the sky.
One day I realized that those who came to the poetry class were my own.
Mr. Biswas, who taught poetry, used to take me to a gray mountain,
inside a dark cave, through the gap of his glasses that made my eyes widen.
One day, I entered that cave and saw my grandfather sitting there,
with a group of naked young women sitting on either side of him.
Grandfather was painting Bengali poetry on Dombini's curvy breasts.
d)
Far from the city, I too secretly placed a passionate kiss
on the lips of a young woman!
Today, after many days, I rushed to the mountain.
In this mountain, I only remember you.
The light of the fireflies flickers in the darkness of the night.
It still clings to the branches of the trees.
Until then, I did not find her again.
Time and again, a song echoes in my ear…
Braja K Sorkar is a widely published author, editor, and translator. He has authored two collections of English poetry, including the award-winning title Syllables of Broken Silence, which earned him the Indology Award in 2021. A dedicated curator of global literature, he edited and published an international world poetry anthology in 2021 titled ‘Voices Now: World Poetry Today’ and has served as the editor and publisher of a reputed international literary magazine since 2023, titled Durgapur Review. His own poems are featured widely in numerous anthologies both in India and abroad, with translations extending into Chinese, Spanish, Bengali, Hindi, Assamese, Manipuri, and several other Indian languages. Professionally, he is a registered translator with the National Translation Mission (NTM) and is closely associated with the Sahitya Akademi. He remains a regular contributor to leading literary magazines worldwide.
OUR TRICOLOR
Dr Major Nalini Janardhanan
Proud to see our tricolor swinging high in the sky.
The nature showing tricolor during
Sunset near green fields.
The national flag symbolizes for us,
Patriotism, unity and sacrifice.
Remembering our soldiers who sacrifice
Family, comforts and lives for nation
The memorable words of Capt. Batra,
“Either I will come back after hoisting the
Tricolor or I will come back wrapped in it.”
Salutes to the men in uniform
Their service and martyrdom.
The great sons of Mother India,
We are proud of you always!
May the tricolor furl high in the sky!
My nation, India is the best!
Dr Major Nalini Janardhanan is a doctor who served in Army,a writer and Akashvani approved artist of Ghazals and Bhajans.She is honored with many awards for her contributions in various fields.
I flinch a bit,
Shrug off and retreat
When a cool breeze kisses my outfit
I hear a whisper
"Sorry dear, did not mean to scare
Stopped by to say hello"
My fine bone face glows
Like the morning sun
The long flowing mane
Sways to the hymn of love
I try to palpate the exact feeling
As my heart skips a few beats
But it evanesces in no time
Ah! the subtleties of the gone by while
Pinch me like searing noon
In reality..
And I melt like asphalts on the road
During peak summer
Never to regain my core and being.
Sujata Dash is a poet from Bhubaneswar, Odisha. She is a retired banker.She has four published poetry anthologies(More than Mere-a bunch of poems, Riot of hues and Eternal Rhythm and Humming Serenades -all by Authorspress, New Delhi) to her credit.She is a singer,avid lover of nature. She regularly contributes to anthologies worldwide.
RAINY AFTERNOON RESONANCE
Dr Nanda Kishore Biswal
When raw was this relationship,
you were just a face in the crowd.
It’s growing on me now,
built on a stability that lets us
deepen effortlessly.
You are a warm presence,
the kind who briefly uplifts a room
and puts the ambient dullness to flight.
People praise your charisma,
bringing to mind
how some spark happiness when they arrive,
and others, only when they depart.
Your smile is blithesome, yes,
but it strikes like a rainy afternoon—
leaving me heavy, ruminative,
pondering how easily a speck of doubt
can poison a gossamer-fine mind.
It takes so little to ride roughshod over fragile feelings,
to vitiate an innocent plan
and watch it slip away from dreamland.
We lost ourselves in the awkward pauses.
A silence that was meant as a plea
became mistaken for mere effrontery,
as if you had interrupted midsentence.
Pride always lifts the head,
while humility opens the heart.
But when the heart rules the head,
the shape of beauty it carves out is fragile.
When wealth and titles are left behind,
only a quiet sum remains: the goodness you shared,
the lives you touched— your only net result.
Dr Nanda Kishore Biswal, after teaching English language and literature for more than thirty five years in different colleges of Odisha, retired as an Associate professor. Passionate in reading poetry, intermittently, he has been writing poetry since his college days.1996 to1999 was his most fertile period when his Odia poems were published in almost all Odia dailies as well as in most of the Odia magazines. Also he writes English poems. He has authored The Fictional Transfiguration of History in the Novels of Salman Rushdie, Amitav Ghosh and Rohinton Mistry. Besides, he has edited Prananath Patnaik:A purveyor of Egalitarianism Currently, he is engaged in writing reviews of the poetry collections of the new poets who write in English.
INTEGRATION 1983
S. Sundar Rajan
It was, in Britain a bright sunny day,
At Lords, the stage was set for the fray,
For the World Cup 1983,
A no contest, it appeared to be.
Batting first, the Indians were all at sea,
With Windies generating such pace, with glee.
Undaunted, Krish launched a counter attack,
Belting a six and boundaries back to back.
With other players pitching in their mite,
Scored one hundred and eighty three, to fight.
Kapil Dev the captain, pepped up the team,
Coaxing each player to fulfil the dream.
A steady innocuous looking inswinger,
Castled the stumps of aggressive Greenidge,
Raising a small ray of hope in the team,
Though runs were flowing at a steady stream.
Richards in a hurry to close the match,
Lofted one, he felt was a safe despatch,
But could not beat the athletic Kapil,
Who swung the game back with determined will.
The Goliath soon folded to David,
Leaving cricket lovers in disbelief.
Kapil led with great determination,
To forge a match-winning combination,
Integrating multi-dimensional skills,
To unfold in the field that brought laurels,
This exemplary win was the stimulant,
Indian cricket has grown from strength to strength.
Taking a leaf from this integration,
We can reach our goals by perseverance.
S. Sundar Rajan is a Chartered Accountant with his independent consultancy. He is a published poet and writer. His collection of short stories in English has been translated into Tamil,Hindi, Malayalam, Telugu, Kannada and Gujarati. His stories translated in Tamil have been broadcast in community radios in Chennai
and Canada. He was on the editorial team of three anthologies, Madras Hues, Myriad Views, Green Awakenings, and Literary Vibes 100. He has published a unique e anthology, wherein his poem in English "Full Moon Night" has been translated into fifteen foreign languages and thirteen Indian regional languages.
An avid photographer and Nature lover, he is involved in tree planting initiatives in his neighbourhood. He lives his life true to his motto - Boundless Boundaries Beckon.
I sit by the window watching the rain,
Wet drops fluttering on earth’s every grain,
Listening to the chatter of its free fall,
Its music to the ears
That calms the mind of all.
The leaves seem fresh grinning green,
Tiny wild flowers spread like a stream,
Matted among pavements on the grass,
Its yellow heads bobbing in a dance.
The sky is dull, sombre and grey,
Contrasting with the earth so gay,
Lightning streaks branched in the sky,
Perhaps to brighten its spirits high.
Pearly drops gathered on the shades,
Chasing each other before they fall away,
All is quiet on the street,
Except for a car following a lead.
All have huddled inside in warmth,
As a wet breeze surveys the streets and its charms,
Window panes of houses are glazed with lights,
As a rainy day surrenders to the evening and night.
Lata Krishnan is a writer presently based in Coimbatore, India. Having spent her growing up years in Kolkata, she became enamoured with poetries and litrature and started penning a few lines now and then. After finishing her education in Kolkata where she spent almost 32 years, she shifted to Chennai and many others cities due to demands of her office work as a Bank Manager. After her retirement from the banking industry, she decided to indulge in her love for writing. Her experiences with life reflects in her work. She explores themes of nature, life, love, and self- reflection. She is the author of the poetry collection "Strewn Petals of the Heart" which she published in 2023.
TEACHERS OF ENGLISH
Dr Beena Anil
We are 'sound' teachers
As phonic to phonetics infiltrators,
Though a cohort of notions for tutelage,
From primary, secondary to tertiary -all verticals pre-requisite,
Emerging trends at finger tips with exquisite.
Language, literature and technology amalgamate for refinement,
Sanguine of conviction with endorsement,
To be or not to be for navigating miles to go before we sleep.
With over 25 years of dedicated teaching experience in language and literature education, I am excited to learn, unlearn, and relearn alongside my resourceful and inspiring students over the years. I have authored 5 books and published 25 research articles in various national and international journals of repute. My research passion lies at the intersection of linguistics/literature and pedagogy, where I explore how language/literature shapes identities, cultures, and societies. My research interests include: Second Language Acquisition, Technology-Enabled Language Teaching and Mobile-Assisted Language Learning (MALL), Bilingualism, Translanguaging Gender Studies, Menstrual Studies.
INVISIBLE INSPIRATION
Dr. Rekha Mohanty
We are lucky to have a teacher
in every being,
Living or no living,
Whom we might not always pin,
They inspire to guide
in life’s every twist and turn,
Also at a time when
we feel tired and done,
The energy from some
trees, birds, animals,
air, river, sky,mountain,
man, woman or child
quietly flow in…1
We feel the the gentle breeze,
The zephyr that is soaked
in sky‘s benediction,
When blessings from
heaven is wide open,
Cumulonimbus clouds
The regal rumbling
The mid summer feeling
of cool monsoon,
Cascading triumphantly
into our sentient being,
The joy of parade elevates
the soul to carry on,
The vibes that
ricochet and elevate
senses to enliven…2
Mind is a scabbard fitted to the
sharp edges of oriented thought,
We are not philistines
but cultured ones
Love soliloquy
when energised to communicate,
The transformation pushes
to act towards positive direction,
Thanks to power
of invisible inspiration…3
Col( Dr) Rekha Mohanty is an alumni of SCB Medical College, Cuttack, Odisha and she has spent most of her professional life in military hospitals in peace and field locations and on high altitude areas.She has participated in Operation Vijay (Kargil war)in 1999 and was selected for UN missions in Africa for her sincere involvement in crisis management of natural calamities in side the country and abroad where India is asked to do so in capacity of head QRT in Delhi for emergency medical supplies.She had also participated in military desert operation ’ Op Parakram’ in Rajasthan border area.After relinquishing Army Medical Corps in 2009,she worked in Ex Servicemen Polyclinic in Delhi NCR and presently is working in a private multi-speciality hospital there to keep herself engaged.
Her hobby is writing poetry in English and Odia.She was writing for college journals and local magazines as a student in school.
Being a frequent traveler around the world,she writes travelogues.The writing habit was influenced by her father who was a Police Officer and used to write daily diary in English language he had mastered from school days in old time.Her mother was writing crisp devotional poems in Odia language and was an avid reader of Odia and Bengali books.Later her children and husband also encouraged.
Dr Rekha keeps herself occupied in free times for activities like painting, baking and playing card games the contract bridge.
She is a genuine pet lover and offers her services to animal welfare organisations and involves in rescue of injured stray dogs.Being always with pets at home since early childhood ,she gives treatment to other dogs in society when asked for in absence of a vet.She delivers talks on child and women health issues to educate the ladies in army and civil.
After sad demise of her husband Dr( Brig)B B Mohanty in February 2023,she devoted more time to writing and published her first poetry book’Resilient Leaf’in August 2023.Since then there is no stopping and she is going to publish her second book of poetry soon.
She enjoys reading E magazine LV , newspaper current affairs ,writing poetry and watching selected movies whenever she gets time.She keeps travelling places of interest in between for a change which is a passion as a girl since days roaming with parents and siblings .Her motto is to be happy by giving the best to self and to the society.She is lucky to have a supportive family.
LEARNING TO LOVE MYSELF AGAIN
Lopamudra Mishra
I once searched the mirror
for the woman I thought I had lost—
in the softness of my face,
the weight I carried,
the slower rhythm of my steps.
Then came the fall,
the fracture,
the quiet days of healing,
teaching my body
to trust itself again.
I counted small things—
a step, a bend,
a morning with less pain,
a little more courage.
And somewhere along the way,
I found myself waiting there.
Not as I was,
but as I am—
softer, slower,
and quietly strong.
Now I am learning
to love the face that has changed,
the body that carried me through,
the imperfect steps,
the days that ask me to rest.
Perhaps I don't have to return
to who I was.
Perhaps I only need
to meet myself gently,
and come home—
a little more each day.
Lopamudra Mishra, a contemporary poet, author, translator, editor, social activist, motivational speaker, orator and personality development coach, hails from Bhubaneswar, Odisha.
Her writings are intended to touch the inner chord softly by emphasizing on "Sense and
Sensibility" of attachment and bonding. She has six books till date on her name- “Rhyme of Rain”,
“First Rain”,” Tingling Parables”, “Rivulet of Emotions”, “Red Tulips” and “Hurricane Heart under the Honeyed Sky”. Her poems have been published in various magazines and anthologies. She has been Editor of Radical Rhythm-4 & Co-editor of Radical Rhythm Series and Durga.
She is a proud alumnus of Sailabala Women’s college and Ravenshaw University.
THE LOST ADDRESS
Sudipta Mishra
Your words reverberate
like a serpent in deep woods.
The good old days
now stand as memories,
returning like seasons
and like seasons,
you change.
You shut each door
of the house.
You belong somewhere;
I stand at the crossroads
of the same old street.
Once that house
bloomed like jasmine
But now only thorns
await me.
It was you
who sat
lighting the candles
throughout the nights,
while I built
castles by counting
stars in the autumn sky.
Now I still do the same.
And my night remains lit
by the spirit of hope
that someday,
someone will find
the lost address to my home.
Sudipta Mishra is a multi-faceted artist and dancer excelling in various fields of art and culture. She has co-authored more than a hundred books. Her book, 'The Essence of Life', is credited with Amazon's bestseller. Her next creation, 'The Songs of My Heart' is scaling newer heights of glory. Her poems are a beautiful amalgamation of imagery and metaphors. She has garnered numerous accolades from international organizations like the famous Rabindranath Tagore Memorial, Mahadevi Verma Sahitya Siromani Award, an Honorary Doctorate, and so on. She regularly pens articles in newspapers as a strong female voice against gender discrimination, global warming, domestic violence against women, pandemics, and the ongoing war. She is pursuing a Ph.D. degree in English. Her fourth book, Everything I Never Told You is a collection of a hundred soulful poems. Currently, she is residing in Puri.
The war began,
the sun rose in the east,
the radiant surrounding,
awaited the moments of killing and blood shed,
throttled each other,
wove a tragic history
of pains and sufferings!
The soldiers on the bunk,
the guns and bullets
shattered the bliss!
The dust blew in the air,
the mud smeared corporeal,
dragged to the dry well
to quench the thrist with a drop!!
The war continued
the borders -
no word of solace,
the heap of dead bodies,
the tears in the eyes
of kith and kin!
Sacrifice matters -
proved anew
by the saviours!
The fate rescripted,
the sign of victory showed,
the smile appeared,
yells and laughter followed!
The war ended,
the destruction stopped,
the pangs throve
with lots of strength and might!
The open field,
the forlorn look,
the deserted texture,
the dried blood drops,
the tattered drapery,
the haunting memories!
Not a question of victory,
nor a question of vanquish,
sew the lips of war mongers,
tie the arms and feet!
No more a war,
no more a destructive monologue,
no more a conspiracy,
no more deaths,
no more a tale of dejection!!
Kunal Roy has always been an ardent lover of literature. He has received various awards for his literary contributions. He is a poet and a critic of poetry. His works have been published both here and abroad. Currently working as an Assistant Professor of English Language and Communication in George Group of Colleges, Kolkata.
LIKE TWO UNKNOWN STRANGERS
Dr Bichitra Kumar Behura
Come,
let us sit side by side—
not for love,
nor for idle conversation.
Just for a little while,
with our eyes closed,
breathing in silence
the cool breeze drifting from the river
beneath this boundless sky.
It matters not
whether you recognize me.
You may still pretend otherwise,
if that is what your heart desires.
Just let your gaze wander
across the sleeping hills,
the whispering grasslands,
and the endless green
stretching beyond the horizon.
How could you miss
the thousand waterfalls
rushing down the mountainsides,
or the watchful birds
circling in carefree delight?
Do not draw away
if your hand
accidentally brushes against mine.
This moment has waited—
God alone knows since when—
for us to meet.
Say nothing.
Ignore me, if you must.
Listen instead
to the unheard voice of the world.
There,
in the deepest chamber of your heart,
you will find me.
WAIT AND SEEK
Dr Bichitra Kumar Behura
Neither worried
nor perturbed—
it’s a waiting game,
a quiet anticipation
of what unfolds next.
Nothing repeats.
Each day arrives
with fresh greetings.
The river flows onward;
its waters never the same.
Slowly, I realize
I have changed,
even as I wait,
doing nothing
but gazing at the sky.
Who waits for whom?
Does the river wait
for the sea,
or the sea for the river?
Mountains look up,
clouds yearn to descend.
Happiness and peace—
precious to all life—
come as blessings
to those who wait
and seek.
Dr. Bichitra Kumar Behura, is an Engineer from BITS, Pilani and has done his MBA and PhD in Marketing. He writes both in Odia and English. He has published three books on collection of English poems titled “The Mystic in the Land of Love” , “The Mystic is in Love” and “The Mystic’s Mysterious World of Love” and a non-fiction “Walking with Baba, the Mystic”. He has also published three books on collection of Odia Poems titled “ Ananta Sparsa”, “Lagna Deha” and “Nirab Pathika”. Dr Behura welcomes feedback @ bkbehura@gmail.com. One can visit him at bichitrabehura.org
Teachers are trailblazers,
Quenching the thirst for knowledge,
They are the torchbearers!
Socrates was a philosopher,
But first and foremost,
He was a preacher,
It was this latter bit that,
That made him a master!
They made us learn letters,
The words came flowing,
The sentences of life were made!
They are living institutions,
Holding in them, a revolution,
To benefit from them,
Let us start now,
Wit full determination!
Dr.S.Padmapriya is a well-known poet and author from India. She began writing poems in English at the tender age of seven. Her poems, short stories, essays, book reviews, forewords, articles( general, critical, and research), and other literary works have been published far and wide.
She is the author of four poetry collections – ‘Great Heights’, ‘The Glittering Galaxy’, ‘Galaxy’ and ‘New Poems’, one novel, ‘The Fiery Women’ and two collections of short stories – ‘Fragments’ and ‘Surreal Stories’.
In addition, multiple non-fiction articles on diverse topics have also been published on various platforms, including in 'New18.com' and 'Organiser'.
OUIJA BOARD
Darsana Kalarickal
At night, my room
becomes a Ouija board.
The ghosts, spirits and demons
lying spellbound within the
fifty-one letters
rise to life at that hour.
From my body, sunk deep in sleep,
my soul communicates with them!
I control them
through the movements of
my index finger.
(You must have seen it
when you secretly watched me.)
They know that my fingers
possess magical powers.
From them burst tongues of flame,
drawing magical circles
within which I have imprisoned them.
There are some human beings
with whom I generally have no desire to communicate,
because they are selfish.
They will misinterpret my thoughts!
They will brand me a terrorist.
They will crown me with
the title of traitor to my country.
My ghosts, spirits and demons
are extremely clever.
They know the pathways
that lead into your inner selves.
(I know that you too
are very fond of ghosts, spirits and demons.)
They will brainwash you.
They will draw you
towards the spells created
by my fingers.
That is why
you are caught
in at least one syllable of my words.
Come,
to my Ouija board.
Let us spread fire
through letters.
*Darsana K.R., residing in Venginissery, Thrissur district, is an employee at Venginissery Service Cooperative Bank and a passionate poet. Her published works include the poetry collections *Kavithaye Pranayichaval, Pranayathil Akappettathinte Ezhaam Naal, and Kuldharaayil Oru Pakal; the short story collection Thekkedathamma V/S Ramakavi (co-authored with Dr. Ajay Narayanan); the memoir Kunnirangunna Kothiyormakal; and the poetry study Kavithayude Veraazhangal. Her poems and articles have been featured in various periodicals and online platforms. phone : 9645748219, email darsanakr1973@gmail.com.
Our rationality reflects
the quality of our nationality.
A nation is much bigger
than whosoever holds the helm.
Let us not forget
that the pages of history
and ages are vulnerable
to verification and scrutiny.
Captains come and go.
No one can claim
that he/she is the nation,
some leave their mark though.
The clever coinage
of a catchy campaign-cry
and the seductive slogans
of court poets just fade away.
No one was the nation in the past.
No one is there either
to be acknowledged as such
what maybe the stature
in the decadence
of some image building
sycophantic literature.
A nation is there in its toiling millions
who work day and night
for its echoing emancipation.
Time that gives itself to one
is never in paucity of options.
The call for avenging the historic blunders
in the past, a thousand year old plunder, in fact,
is nothing but deviation that stems from
the fear of the fall from power and position
as the shadow of failure surrounds the present
and the hand that holds the helm
is unable to meet the challenges of the time.
How far should we look back to take revenge,
how many years, centuries and millenniums?
Is it just a thousand years back,
two thousand or more?
Won’t we scan who did what
those fateful days of yore?
Should we not talk of The Kalinga War,
a war imposed on us
to crush our people’s pride and honour?
Ought not we go back to the time
when monasteries were burnt, devastated,
monks were butchered, buried
and many more were made to flee?
How intense, how much widespread
our revenge is going to be?
Creative fire makes the mind
beautiful and warm,
while the hellfire of hatred and revenge
burns the being and causes immense harm.
Bipin Patsani (b. 1951) has published poems in many prestigious journals and poetry anthologies including Indian Literature, Chandrabhaga, Journal of Indian Writing in English, Indian Scholar, Kavya Bharati, Poetcrit, International Poetry and Prophetic Voices etc. He has been translated to Spanish and Portuguese. He has three poetry collections to his credit (VOICE OF THE VALLEY, ANOTHER VOYAGE and HOMECOMING). He is a recipient of Michael Madhusudan Academy Award/ 1996 and Rock Pebbles National Award in 2018. He did his Post Graduation in English at Ravenshaw College, Cuttack in 1975 and served as a teacher in Arunachal Pradesh for 34 years till his superannuation in 2012. He also received Arunachal Pradesh State Government’s Award in 2002 for his dedicated service as a teacher. He lives with his family at Barunei Colony, Badatota in Khordha District of Odisha, India.
THE GREEN THAT WAS
Manjula Asthana Mahanti
The morning woke to a chorus of green,
A vibrant world, a tranquil scene.
From my balcony, the trees would sway,
Where rainbow feathers chose to play.
Clouds danced in a shifting sky,
As joyful pigeons drifted by,
Finding safety, sharing peace,
In a quiet space where worries cease.
Then came the blades, the cruel spark,
That turned our paradise to dark.
Axes fell and engines roared,
Where once the nesting eagles soared.
The mighty trunks were torn away,
Leaving ruins where the shadows play.
Nest and branch, destroyed and burned,
To ashes all our beauty turned.
The evening fell in choking smoke,
As if the world in terror woke.
Beneath a blanket, thick and black,
The searching birds came flying back.
But home was gone, replaced by fire,
A blazing, agonizing pyre.
They cried in vain, they circled high,
Against a red and wounded sky.
Weary wings began to tire,
Singed by ash and breathless fire.
One by one, they fell like rain,
In helpless, unremitting pain.
I stood and watched, my tears unfurled,
Before a broken, burning world.
Too late to save, too small to fight,
Lost inside the weeping night.
Manjula Asthana Mahanti is a post graduate in Sociology and Hindi. Her Graduation was in English honors. She is a Sangeet Prabhakar (vocal) and has done her B. Ed. She worked in a college as Senior Lecturer. Her last assignment was that of a high school Principal. She lives in Forest Park, Bhubaneshwar, Odisha, India.
She is a published trilingual poet, author, editor, translator and story teller. She has eight collections to her credit along with a long list of participation in national, international anthologies, e-magazines, etc. She is a recipient of several national, international awards, Samman Gujarat and Telangana sahitya akademy award amongst many more. Her recent award was "Icons of Asia"
Let the heart be porous.
Let the world pass through,
its thunder and harmony,
its fetor and fragrance,
its lessons draped in success and failure,
its joys and sorrows alighting unannounced,
like birds on windowsills.
Not everything is meant to be grasped.
Not every silence needs breaking.
Not every noise needs muting.
Some things are only to be noticed,
and then released.
A glance need not become a story.
A memory does not owe us permanence.
Even longing, if held too tightly,
can bruise the heart that shelters it.
We were never meant to hold the river in our hands,
only to kneel beside it,
cup its coolness briefly,
and be grateful for its wet shimmer
before it slips away.
There is mercy in restraint.
There is wisdom in leaving some flickers unnamed.
Move through the day like a reed in water,
upright, never rigid.
Touch, but do not clutch.
Hold, and then release.
Feel without folding in.
Listen without waiting to speak.
Let silence grow roots.
The sun does not gloat on shining.
It simply shines.
And when it leaves,
it leaves quietly,
yielding the stage to darkness.
Even the stars fade into dawn with grace.
Beginning his journey in public service, Subrat Mishra served with distinction as an officer of the Indian Revenue Service, eventually retiring from the position of Principal Chief Commissioner of Income Tax. He holds an M.A. in Political Science from the University of Delhi. In recent years, he has turned to writing, exploring poetry and reflective prose as an occasional amateur writer. His interests span sports, culture, philosophy, travel, and nature photography. He lives in Bhubaneswar.
MY SHARE OF HURTS
Matralina Pati
I, too, once
Wished to
Cough up
My share
Of hurts.
Your language
Then
Laughed back
At me.
These days,
I choke
My failing throat
Until it oozes
Blood.
Matralina Pati, is a PhD research scholar working on marginal Indian bhasha literature (UGC Junior Research Fellow), a bilingual poet and a translator from Bankura, West Bengal. Her critical and creative writings have been published on national and international platforms. She has authored a book of translations titled Monsoon Seems Promising This Year (selected poems of postmodern poet Rudra Pati translated from Bengali into English).
THE BELL ONLY I CAN HEAR
Leena Thampi
I am still waiting for your call, Dad.
Wherever I am,
I carry your voice in me
the messages, the lessons, the love.
“All ears for you,” you always said.
So at 9:30 pm,
Even now,my heart answers a bell only I can hear.
The waiting doesn’t stop
Because you are not here.
Who will call me now?
That question sits heavy in my heart
No one can fill this vacuum
No substitute, No second.
To make another like you,
God would have to begin again.
You were that rare, that whole.
The epitome of perfection
So I bow, a million times over for you, Dad
If I get one more life,
or many more...
I only ask for one thing,
Let me be your daughter
in every single one!
Leena Thampi is a celebrated author and entrepreneur renowned for her captivating writing style that transcends the ordinary. With six published books ,twelve Anthologies and numerous internationally featured articles, her work has garnered widespread recognition and accolades. Recent being "Author Literary Awards from The Book Channel for her four books across different categories, the 'Women Face of the Year 2024' by Fox Story India, and the City Excellence Awards by Bharat Times. Her literary prowess has also been recognized with Rabindranath Tagore Memorial literary honors and Gujarat Sahitya Academy honors.
Leena's unique narrative voice blends luminous prose, magical realism, myths, and raw life realities, inviting readers into a world of wonder and introspection. A multifaceted talent, she is a certified child psychologist, relationship coach, and TEFL trainer, and serves as Co-founder and COO of HAVL Hi-Tech Pvt Ltd.
The warmth of the rising sun
on a winter morning
The sulking dew drop
floating on the fluttering leaf
holding on to dear leaf
with all her floating might
Is she enjoying the ballet
Is she anxious of the fall
Is this her swan song
to make her immortal
before the burning sun consumes her
Little does she know
that dreams die
when the first rays kiss the night sky
and wait for the night
to be born again
Little does she know this
She dances as if it’s the end of her world
Baldev Samantaray is a retired banker who lives in Bhubaneswar. He did his post graduation in English literature from Ravenshaw College (76-78).He started writing from his Ravenshaw days. Many of his poems appear in various journals and anthologies.
THE ETERNAL LIGHT OF KRISHNA
Syamala Haridas
You are the wondrous lamp that glows in my mind, Oh Krishna.
In my heart, overflowing with devotion,
You are the eternal radiance that shines light.
When my eyes fill up seeing your beauty,
Why is there a sweet, gentle smile on your lips?
The moist memories filling my eyes
Streamed through me like brilliant moonlight.
At your playful smile, Oh dark-complexioned one,
My heart thrills with joy.
Like a deep, melting kindness in my thoughts,
You appear bright and clear like a rainbow.
When you dance in full bloom within me,
With eyes filled with deep devotion and love,
I can never forget you, Oh Krishna...
I can never, ever forget you.
Syamala Haridas is an active presence on prominent online publishing platforms. She regularly writes poems, short stories, reviews, retellings of mythological tales, and articles for many online outlets including USA Malayali Manass, Manorama Online magazine, and an Australian online magazine. Her work has received several awards, including the Kerala Thanima Puraskaram, Sargga Kairali Puraskaram, Mayookham Sahitya Vedi Puraskaram, USA Malayali Manass Puraskaram, and the S. K. Publication Puraskaram. Her first novel, Manassinnullile Paruddeess (Heaven in the Mind), has already been published.
It has been so long, this solitary existence,
After an hour the sunlight began to melt away....
And so... no!
I understand now—you long for a companion,
A partner to share both the shadows and the light.
Is that why, between consciousness and dreams,
Do you appear to me time and again?
Shaking the very roots of my earthly mind.
I know... the hour has come for the departure,
But could this transition not have been a little smoother?
A little more free of pain?
Anindita Sen is a bilingual published author and Translator.She has published seven collection of poetry and four novels in her credit. She is a well known translator, a regular contributors to various literary journals in English as well as in Bengali. She was awarded a few literary awards. As a profession, she was a Biology teacher associated with Hem Sheela Model School based at Durgapur, West Bengal.She lives in Asansol, West Bengal.
WHERE DOES GOD LIVE?
Swatishree Parija
Might be a question of every atheist,
Must be answered by a true theist.....
In the heart, in our surrounding, in every where .
He/she is omnipresent.....
But where actually , does he/she live ?
Indian philosophical tradition says in every consciousness in the form of "Bramha"
The veda says,in nature : in the form of trees, rivers,fire & mountains etc.
A karmayogi says,in karma & an animal lover says he/she lives in every living being.
Then where can we actually find him/her?
A sage said, open your true eyes ...
The eyes of pure consciousness beyond the thoughts & arguments .....
A presumptuous man said consciousness flows through AI too..
with an arrogant smile,he asked, then does God live here ?
The Sage smiled & replied , then ask your AI this particular question.
Swatishree Parija is from Jagatsinghpur district, Odisha. She is a Graduate with Honours in Geology and has recently earned a B.Ed. degree. She has also qualified in the Teachers' Eligibility Test (TET). She is currently preparing for competitive exams.
From her school days, she has had a keen interest in creative activities. Her hobbies include writing, painting, reading books of different genres and photography. She has been writing short stories and poems in Odia, English, and Hindi since for the past many years.
She has actively participated in various speech, painting, and essay-writing competitions and has received several awards and prizes at the school, district, and state levels.
A SCRAP DEALER IN MARRAKEsH
Hussein Habasch
Once upon a time,
I was a scrap dealer on one of the pavements of Red Marrakesh, a city that makes the heart burn with love!
One day, I sold a rusty key, I don’t know where I’d got it from, to a German poet, who was wearing a yellow shirt with the African continent depicted in all its beauty and majesty!
From his neck hung a huge camera, the size of a ram's head!
He was accompanied by a Kurdish poet
wearing an olive-coloured Cuban hat with a red star in the centre,
and a black Moroccan shirt embroidered with silver thread around his neck.
The Kurdish poet was more proficient in Arabic than its native Arabs,
and he jokingly spelled out some words in Moroccan dialect.
For the sake of the African continent, which I love so much,
and also, for the sake of the Kurdish poet who spoke to me with such courtesy, as if he were speaking to a brilliant professor of antiques, I deducted fifty dirhams from the price I had asked for the key.
The German poet thanked me for my generosity and kindness.
The Kurdish poet shook my hand with great affection, and they disappeared among the large crowds heading towards Jemaa el-Fna Square.
I don’t know what came over me after that!
Whenever I lay my head on the pillow and fall asleep, my key visits me in my dreams!
Sometimes it appears as a golden key, so dazzling it takes my breath away.
Other times it takes the form of a key to the gate of a grand palace
that no one is allowed to enter except those who know the palace’s labyrinths and corridors.
Sometimes it takes the form of a key to a jewellery box hidden in a remote castle, perhaps called Ghost Castle.
And sometimes, it appears as the key to a large prison, heavily guarded by grim-faced menacing guards.
Every time I would wake up in a panic, sweat pouring from every pore of my body.
And so, my dreams became nightmares, and my nightmares became an unbearable hell.
Oh, if only the German and Kurdish poets would pass by here again!
I would ask them about the secret my key holds within its heart, and about the meaning of the disturbing dreams and nightmares that keep me awake, turning my nights into a torture chamber.
Oh, if only they would pass by here again, perhaps they would find a cure for my condition,
and be able to explain this enigma that perplexes me throughout my sleep.
Oh, how I long to sleep a deep sleep
without dreams,
without nightmares,
and without keys mocking my dreams!
Hussein Habasch is a poet from Afrin, Kurdistan, born in 1970. He currently lives in Bonn, Germany. His poems have been translated into English, German, Spanish, French, Persian, Uzbek, Albanian, Russian, Romanian, Italian, Serbian, Macedonian, Bulgarian, Polish, Slovenian, Lithuanian, Vietnamese, Nepali, Hindi, Malayalam, Kannada, Tajik, Bengali, Turkish, Berber (Amazigh), Bosnian, Portuguese, Hungarian, Chinese, Greek, Mandarin (the language of Taiwan), Tzotzil (the language of the Mayan peoples of Mexico), Dutch, Punjabi. His poetry has been published in more than 200 International Poetry Anthologies and his books include: Drowning in Roses, Fugitives across Evros River, Higher than Desire and more Delicious than the Gazelle's Flank, Delusions to Salim Barakat, A Flying Angel, No pasarán (in Spanish), Copaci Cu Chef (in Romanian), Dos Árboles (in Spanish), Tiempos de Guerra (in Spanish), Fever of Quince (in Kurdish), Peace for Afrin, Peace for Kurdistan (in English and Spanish), The Red Snow (in Chinese), Dead arguing in the corridors (in Arabic) Drunken trees (in Kurdish), Boredom of a tired statue (in Kurdish), Flor del Espinillo (in Spanish) A Rose for the Heart of Life, selected Poems (in English), Olvido (in Spanish), La harde de cerfs meurt de soif (in French), Jibîrkirin (in Kurdish), Los Kurdos Y Dios (in Spanish), A Rose for the Heart of Life (in English and Bengali), Stones in Exile (in English) and Toda La Patria En Una Herida (in Spanish) He has participated in many Iinternational Poetry Ffestivals including: Colombia, Nicaragua, France, Puerto Rico, Mexico, Germany, Romania, Lithuania, Morocco, Ecuador, El Salvador, Kosovo, Macedonia, Costa Rica, Slovenia, China, Taiwan, Cuba, Sweden, New York City, Sarajevo, Greece, Albania, Cyprus, Uruguay, India, Rockport (USA), Indonesia, Italy, Poland, Serbia and Guatemala. He has won several awards: The International Best Poet Prize 2016 awarded in China by the International Poetry Translation and Research Centre, the Journal of the World Poets Quarterly (Multilingual) and the Editorial Board of the Chinese Poetry International, the Great Kurdish Poet Hamid Bedirkhan Award, awarded by the General Union of Kurdish Writers and Journalists (2022), Aristotle Poetry award from Greece (2022), the International “Bosnian Ste?ak” Award for Poetry, awarded by the Bosnia and Herzegovina Writers Union (2022), the Bangladesh Kathak International Literary Prize, awarded at the World Thinkers’ and Writers’ Peace Meet in Calcutta, India (2024), he has also been rewarded with a honorific price at the Safi International Poetry Forum in Morocco (2024), he was invited as a featured international poet to read at Walt Whitman's birthplace in Huntington, New York, for the "Walking with Whitman" program (2025), a special award and honor from the AFRIN Fine Arts Festival 2025 in Germany. He has been awarded the Indija Pro Poet Prize 2025, presented at the Pro Poet International Literature Festival in Serbia.
DISCERNS AND CONFIRMS
Dr R. S.Tewari
The more mundane thirst insatiable the more unrest within ,
Real happiness lies in the attitude to life,far from frivolity and sin.
There are ways and means latent in the womb of issues and hurdles ,
The only requisite is to unearth the root causes unseen ,and no riddles .
Better be calm and do your duty and assigned tasks holistically ,
Wait and watch with unwavered faith to sustain individually .
All that is needed is bound to be fulfilled more or less one fine day but in relative terms ,
Neither lose hope not retreat from the right path and see how every morn discerns and confirms.
ECHO THE PRAYER TO ALMIGHTY
Dr R. S.Tewari
Truly do impartial deeds ever echo the voice of prayer to Almighty,
Despite immense hardships, don't allow one to budge from veracity.
Trouble and turbulence do intervene, yet the natural justice survives,
The one who knows how to withstand, face and fight, ever strives.
Such a brave one's will and vigour ever remind one of the designed destination ,
Quite untired with vital looks, once moved ahead, one meets with all the expectation.
FRAGRANT TOTALITY
Dr R. S.Tewari
Truly, sustaining with sublimity is not difficult, if one has ethical ascending,
As it is only value based footing that stops one from falling or descending .
Man is blessed with infinite potential to fight for his varied goals ,
No matter what,where and how he faces and plays his assigned roles .
Both the mission and the vision work together for the destination,
When the motto is clear and head is held high,far from desperation.
The truthful venture with firm faith within makes one stand with dignity,
Every step ahead enlightens one's journey, no hurdle,but fragrant totality.
UNLESS THE GARDEN IS GUARDED
Dr R. S.Tewari
Honour is earned by conduct ,creation and co-operation,
And not by mere self- praise and pseudo- commendation.
Truly,mundane and material dealings ever call for exchange of all kinds,
The quality of seeds and how they are watered reflects in their sproutings.
Legacy of power, potential and commanding respect from all corners ,
Doesn't go a long way unless guarded well with its fruits and flowers.
History is evident how tombs and towers, devoid of care and concern, were crumbled,
Let us learn and retain the inherited glory and gravity without being baffled.
Dr R. S.Tewari 'Shikhresh' is a retired Assistant Director(O.L.)from Govt of India ,awarded by Honourable President of India,Honourable Governor of Uttarakhand and U.P.,Honourable State Home Minister (Govt of India) for commendable work in Official Language of the country is an M.A.( English Literature ,Hindi Lit. Philosophy ),PG Dip.(Translation and Journalism )and Ph.D.in Philosophy of Religion ,
Dr Tewari to his credit has 23 books of English verses,Hindi verses,books on Official Language and English Grammar.He has delivered more than five hundred lectures in various workshops on various topics.He has written more than a dozen of reviews of books in Hindi and English. Having started his career as an English teacher ,Dr Tewari worked as a Translation Officer, Hindi Pradhyapak and Assistant Director (Official Language) in Income -tax Dept.He has also served as a Consultant, Officilal Language and Communication in a training Centre of the ministry of MSME.
He has also worked in the Departments of Philosophy and Journalism in Agra University as a visiting faculty for a short span. Presently, he is a Visiting Faculty in the distance cell of D E I Deemed University, Dayalbagh ,Agra (UP),India.
FLOW IN GLOW
Dr. Rajamouly Katta
You are born to flow
Dispelling the pitch-dark
In your power-spark
That is your sojourn in glow.
You are special in your grow
In your course constant,
Ever lively, ever vibrant
As a spectacle on the brow
Born in my mental horizon
Your origin wonderful and lovely
Ever on rise like tides lively,
Like bubbles to rise on and on
It is all a tiny but mighty in flight
To shine with your spark
Spectacular to mark
For journey from dark to light.
You are my dear musings
To flow in glow in the rainbow-show
In stream kaleidoscopic on brow
Spectacular like lightnings.
They are seen in time’s tiniest fraction
Like an angelic damsel
With the wasp-waist to excel
The cynosure to all eyes for elation.
Musings! Like lightnings so majestic
With light, you shatter pitch darkness
Like lightings in welkin in vastness
With you, you fill a poem fantastic.
What you shine is eternally bright
All in all, you awaken and enlighten
With your essences to sweeten
Your radiance for majestic height.
Lightnings show the way to the wayfarer,
Engulfed in night darkness
But you, musings excel with wisdom limitless,
Knowledge invaluable to the life-traveller:
Your rich treasures and powers
To the naked eye, you are invisible
But I know that you are invincible
High and sublime are your towers.
You transcend the narrow barriers
You are musings for radiance
Like the rays in abundance
To shatter the confined frontiers.
You are the beacon, the preceptor
To reform evil doers
To transform sinners
In your tutelage, in the ways of the creator
For man-to-man relation
To live in peace and harmony
With humanity as a testimony
It is poetry and its definition.
Dr. Rajamouly Katta, M.A., M. Phil., Ph. D., Professor of English by profession and poet, short story writer, novelist, writer, critic and translator by predilection, has to his credit 64 books of all genres and 344 poems, short stories, articles and translations published in journals and anthologies of high repute. He has so far written 3456 poems collected in 18 anthologies, 200 short stories in 9 anthologies, nine novels 18 skits. Creative Craft of Dr. Rajamouly Katta: Sensibilities and Realities is a collection of articles on his works. As a poet, he has won THIRD Place FIVE times in Poetry Contest in India conducted by Metverse Muse rajamoulykatta@gmail.com
A DAY WITHOUT METAPHORS
Pankhuri Sinha
Imagine a day when all metaphors
Have ceased to exist
Or have broken into pieces
Like your favourite piece of China
Or glass, and are scattered around you
And you know there is no point
Bending to pick them up
Basically, you know, you cannot
Either bend, or pick or fix
There are things besides your heart
That cannot be glued together!
But that’s not your first thought
You are just very glad
Its not your bones scattered
On the rocks, on the floor, on the ground
On the road, on the alley, on the street
Through which they drove you to the
Detention Centre! ‘They’, who is they?
Leave that question! They have replied
Ages ago, ‘they were just following orders!’
You already know, its an academic war
A war of the academia!
You know it deep down
And can define it later
Your single thought is to
Get out without a scratch
And you are still working on it
Years later, you work on it
Every single day! With your damaged
Bones and Intestines, your fragile bones
And intestines, they are not of dinosaurs
But you do want to make sure
The glasses the bones and the China of your life
Those broken pieces you lost track of
When your life collapsed like a glass palace
But couldn’t forget, how can you forget!!?
F-o-r-g-e-t!??
And you are not riding a tiger
To borrow the phrase from Linda Colley
But, ‘Tigers roam their imagination
In India’---to quote her exactly!
They roams yours too!
You let them, waiting at bus
And train, and tram stops
And you love your ‘Navegente’ pass
And The New Country!
Good to be able to love
A few things, while working
On attempting to get out
Of the detention Centre
Without a scratch!
And you are determined
To show them the glitter
And the shine, of those
Broken pieces of your life
And dazzle them with light!
You are now me!
Pankhuri Sinha is a bilingual poet, story writer and translator from India. Two poetry collections published in English, two story collections published in Hindi, six poetry collections published in Hindi, and many more are lined up. Has been published in many journals, anthologies, home and abroad. Has won many prestigious, national-international awards, like the Girija Kumar Mathur Award, Chitra Kumar Shailesh Matiyani Award, Seemapuri Times Rajeev Gandhi Excellence Award, First prize for poetry by Rajasthan Patrika, awards in Chekhov festival in Yalta and in Premio Besio Poetry competition in Italy, Sahitto award in Bangladesh, and Premio Galateo in Italy for poetry in mother tongue. Has been translated in over twenty seven languages.
She has studied in Delhi University, Symbiosis Pune, SUNY Buffalo, and the University of Calgary, Canada. She has worked in various positions as a journalist, lecturer and a content editor. Has done writing residencies in Hungary and Bulgaria, and attended the Tranas Literature Festival in Sweden.
THE COPPERSMITH BARBET AS MY FRIEND
Dr. Protiva Rani Karmaker
When my heart was burdened with endless thoughts,
When my head was heavy with small dots,
Of weary imagination and meaningless talks,
It sat in the middle of my broken window.
His strong and repetitive rhythmic sounds flowed,
And in my room his crimson-breasted colour glowed,
But suddenly I discovered his weary eyes,
As if his heart was burdened with silent cries,
For the disappearance of fields and green plants at heights,
The little bird was worried for its nest and future territory,
As a human, this anxiety for preserving nature and peace in society,
In the deepest core of my heart I also carry.
On that day we became friends together,
And made promises to bring the message of saving nature and the beauty of life,
Here, there, and everywhere.
Dr Protiva Rani Karmaker is a Professor and former Director at the Institute of Modern Languages (IML) of Jagannath University, Dhaka, Bangladesh. She is known as a distinguished writer, academician and researcher with more than two decades of experience in English Language Teaching (ELT) and institutional leadership in Bangladesh. She is a regular voice in national dailies. She has authored over 300 articles on language, education, and literature in various dailies and magazines. She has served as the first Director of the Institute of Modern Languages (IML), the first Director of the Centre for English Language (CEL) and the first house tutor of the first female residential hall, the Nawab Faizunnesa Chowdhurani Hall (formerly Bangamata Sheikh Fazilatunnesa Mujib Hall) at Jagannath University, Dhaka, Bangladesh. As a recognition of her academic and professional leadership, she has been awarded the prestigious ‘WOMEN IN LEADERSHIP & MANAGEMENT AWARD-2026’ by the Council for Educational Administration and Management (CEAM), Kerala, India. She was also awarded the International ERUDITE SCHOLAR AWARD 2022 by the Council for Teacher Education Foundation (CTEF), India and the Women Researcher Award by the International Scientist Awards Society of VDGOOD, India, along with other local awards. She has published 27 peer-reviewed articles, authored 12 books, and presented at many international platforms as a keynote speaker and resource person. As a writer, she believes in highlighting the beauty of life and nature through prose and poetry.
MAHANADI: WAVES OF FEELINGS
Satyabrata Mahalik
The feelings are red and blue,
Coming forth and going back,
For waves overflow.
Here by the Mahanadi I sit,
With a mourning throat,
Speechless and incommunicado,
Drowning myself with the burdens
Of your memories,
Last time, you let me bleed,
To bleed with you,
With you here by the Mahanadi,
Feelings overflow,
Drowsiness I feel amongst the darkest crowd,
Dark and lightend sky, blue and red
Velvet of thoughts,
I sit here at the bank of Mahanadi,
Being overloaded with emotions
And eyes full of tears.
Here I am, at the bank of Mahanadi,
Where thoughts are flowing current.
Emotions turn into tears,
And again it overflows.
2nd visit Cuttack
10/07/26
Satyabrata Mahalik
(Founder/ Chairperson of Utkal Juba Sahitya Federation)
Soro, Balasore
Mob no -9692194397
Satyabrata Mahalik, is a trilingual poet of Odisha. He has done his Masters in English language and literature from Utkal University Vani Vihar. Furthermore, he is passionate reader of literature who have attended and delivered his lectures in various universities and colleges of Odisha and outside of Odisha. His area of interest is Indian English literature and especially the native literature and culture.
FRIENDSHIP
Mrs. Setaluri Padmavathi
Like a hidden spirit
Like the silent almighty
And as an unexpected blessing,
You hide behind the scenes!
I speak not to you for ages
I meet not you now and then
Time Machine runs with no break
But no break for this bonding!
You can hear the beat of my heart
I can visualise your mind
Unspoken heart tells tales
Immovable mind murmurs!
The way sun speaks to the earth
The way moon kisses my face
And the way breeze soothes me,
Your magical hands comfort me ever!
When I fight hundred battles
When I become fearful or tensed
And when all the doors are closed,
You welcome me with open arms!
From silly things to serious matters
From funny state to furious news
And in sadness and gladness,
You are all ears with no fail.
During the tsunami and calamity
A ship that safely carries
Without throwing you
In the middle of the sea,
I call it friendship.....
Mrs. Setaluri Padmavathi, a postgraduate in English Literature with a B.Ed., has been in the field of education for more than three decades. Writing has always been her passion that translates itself into poems of different genres, short stories and articles on a variety of themes and topics. She is a bilingual poet and writes poems in Telugu and English. Her poems were published in many international anthologies and can be read on her blogsetaluripadma.wordpress.com. Padmavathi’s poems and other writings regularly appear on Muse India.com. Boloji.com, Science Shore, Setu, InnerChild Press Anthologies and Poemhunter.com
THE SUN THAT MELTED THE FOG
Dr. Niranjan Barik
Every day is not the same.
The house has cockroaches,
as irritating as lizards.
The weather forecasters
have not gone wrong today.
The sky is cast with clouds;
the mind too—
it has fog, it has smog.
No pleasure in saying,
“Hindustan mein Fog chal raha hai aajkal”—
a familiar line from an old advertisement.
Perhaps there is a new Fog now,
a better one.
But what surrounds us
is not merely Fog.
It is Smog.
The smoke no longer rises
from the chulha of a village woman.
It drifts and drifts
from Hormuz, Iran, Gaza and Ukraine.
Here, it is no longer man
who kills man.
It is the machine—
the sophisticated one,
with an eye and a brain
that can see and calculate
far beyond human eyes and brains,
but with no heart.
It does not discriminate.
Children in schools,
patients in hospitals,
and their dear ones waiting for them—
all become its targets.
Those tiny tots
who return from school
and, in their little embrace,
define what joy means to a family—
what do they know of war?
And so the whole day
goes smogged.
Lo! Look!
In the evening,
a Sun appears to cheer you up.
She did not say,
Sangham Saranam Gacchami,
but she was already
a friend of the Sangha—
a Mitra.
Her words rang like fresh air,
like a Sun dispelling darkness.
She, the friend of the Sangha,
had undertaken a journey
to discharge a routine,
perhaps a small duty.
But the Boss gave her time—
not minutes, but hours.
The Boss saw her off
at the railway station.
A sister? No !
a friend,
a Mitra.
No, not merely a sister,
nor simply a friend,
a Mitra,
in the true spirit of Sangha;
where hierarchy dissolves,
and heart meets heart.
A rare gesture.
A silent expression of love,
where heart met heart.
The joy of that encounter,
recounted to me,
melted the smog within me.
A small gesture,
a big fallout—
hundreds of miles away,
an old man felt
a new Sun was rising.
The VIP culture of hierarchy
and social distance
seemed to be yielding place
to the Mitra culture
of the Buddhist Sangha.
Four hours of conversation.
Personal ferrying in a VIP car.
Seeing her off at the railway station—
not merely as a duty,
but with the touch of the heart.
That was the warmth of the Sun
on a rainy, cloudy evening.
And the stories of the Sangha
at a railway station,
hundreds of miles away,
melted the clouds
that had gathered around me.
Professor Niranjan Barik ,formerly Professor and Head, Department of Political Science at Ravenshaw University also served as a Professor of Pol.Sc and Principal , Khallikote Autonomous College, Berhampur, Odisha. A Fulbright Scholar-in-Residence at Miles College, Birmingham, AL, USA in 2007-08 , Prof Barik evinces interest in reading and writing short stories and poems in Odia and English. His poetry book , “Freedom from Bondage: An Ode to Nature” published in 2023 was released in Bhubaneswar in December 2023.
BROTHERHOOD
Dr. Mrutyunjay Sarangi
What brand do you sport, what emblem,
What are the words on your shirt,
What smile you wear on your sleeves,
What messages are etched in your heart?
Which God you worship,
Which scriptures you read,
Which idol dangles from your key chain,
Which photos adorn your office walls?
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What dreams wake you up in the night,
What cracks dent your wall,
What whispers kill your sleep,
What whimpers drive you crazy?
Which wind blows to shake your trees,
Which noon fire licks your roof,
Which dogs howl in your streets,
Which birds fall dead at your door steps?
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What if I rise from the garbage dump frustrated,
What if the dogs won't let me have a bite of the leftovers,
What if the hospitals won't touch me,
What if my threats of self-immolation fall on deaf years?
Which doors will you open if I come knocking,
Which lights will you switch on,
Which songs will you sing for my tormented soul,
Which prayers will you offer for me?
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Will you hold my hands to share,
The agony of the opportunities gone by,
Will you tell me the stories of the unfulfilled promises,
And the loots, the arson and the burning sky?
For, when the curtains fall, my brother,
Neither you will remain nor I,
We will be gone - two citizens of a bruised nation,
Bonded by our anguished cry.
Dr. Mrutyunjay Sarangi is a retired civil servant and a former Judge in a Tribunal. Currently his time is divided between writing poems, short stories and editing the eMagazine LiteraryVibes . Four collections of his short stories in English have been published under the title The Jasmine Girl at Haji Ali, A Train to Kolkata, Anjie, Pat and India's Poor, The Fourth Monkey. He has also to his credit nine books of short stories in Odiya. He has won a couple of awards, notably the Fakir Mohan Senapati Award for Short Stories from the Utkal Sahitya Samaj. He lives in Bhubaneswar.
THE GREATEST SWEEPSTAKE BY HEMA RAVI, 2026
Pravat Kumar Padhy
Annai Prints, Chennai - 600 017, M. Saravanan (Mobile: + 91 94441 26523). ISBN: 978-93-5759-262-8.p.142.
Reviewed by Pravat Kumar Padhy
I am excited to read the captivating collection by the brilliant author, poet and story writer, Hema Ravi. The collection comprises colourful images representing the central theme of every story. It would encourage readers, especially children, to enjoy reading these kinds of ‘Photo Stories’.
A total of 22 short stories of varying lengths) captivate the readers’ curiosity till the end.
She writes in her preface: “This book is a collection of short stories and micro-tales that explore various facets of human experience. The stories cover a wide range of themes, from childhood wonder and fantasy to real-life issues such as injustice, identity struggles, and hardship. Varying in length, these narratives are rich in emotion and meaning. As you read, I hope you enjoy guessing which tales are based on real events and which are fictional and contemplate how storytelling can sometimes reveal truths …” She is candid in sharing her experiences.
The collection embodies the scenarios of cross-cultural life, the beauty of joint family, village life, childhood memories and a wider spectrum of narrations. The unique aspect of the collection lies in its touring across wide geographical areas, being a vivid part of their history, cultural dimensions and family-centric tales. With a voice of pragmatism, Hema reiterates, ‘History is not merely a set of facts about happenings of the past; there is most certainly a link that helps us to build emotional connections with the people who lived in those times.’ Stories like “The Beautiful One” are one of the examples that speak to the life sketches of the people in a remote Africa village.
Hema, with precision, qualifies the aspects of Indian identity and its many-faceted socio-consciousness. The collection embodies the thread of moral values and at times she explores philosophic traits subtly. The flow and lively narration, with lyrical infusion, keep the reader asking “what next.” That is the beauty of Hema’s creation: short, sweet, with a human touch.
In Hema’s storyline, women serve as the central character in different capacities. The story is reformative at times and infused with a motivational spirit. One of the striking stories “Epiphanic Moment,” narrates the balance maintained by Sonya, the pragmatic working woman, between job and family life with care and dedication. Hema pens, “One last word- the working woman runs a marathon day after day, but she finds time and self-gratification in whatever she does.”
Cross-cultural Issue:
Hema vividly reflects the emotional storm the immigrants feel in another country. People lead different lifestyles. New York, for example, is known as the city that never sleeps! There exists a cultural difference between the Western and the Oriental regions. There has been an emotional feeling of the country of origin. This is reflected in the story “Anugraha” (the name of the house that was built by Srinivas’s grandfather). On returning to India from the USA, Srinivas’s wife feels solace and remarks: “Anugraha has conferred monetary benefits, taught us that life is transient; and most importantly, has made us understand how incredible life is...”
Hema’s story parallels Jhumpa Lahiri's and Bharati Mukherjee’s works on cultural alienation of Indian immigrants and cultural displacement etc. She, as an immigrant to the USA, recalls her childhood memories of her place of origin, the Coromandel Coast of South India and the cultural dichotomy, psychological frictions etc she encounters. She recounts the Pallavas culture of South India: “I vividly recall one verse that I had penned eons ago in neat handwriting.”
Treasure forever to possess
Cherish memories with caress
First Sketchbook.
Touch of Indianness
The beauty of Hema’s collection is the way she brings to light the aesthetic values by instilling a sense of Indianness. She refers to Indian family culture, historical aspects, socio-religious functions etc and uses words from regional languages in literature. The unified family life, cohesive culture, emotional affinity towards nature etc are some of the hallmarks of Indian life style. The stories like “Bear Behind the Glass Door”, “Ramya Celebrates Golu...”, “The Girl Who Loved Flowers” embody family narration, Indian tradition, and mention of Amar Chitra Kathas in the story. In the family-oriented tale, “Pendulum,” she reiterates, “Success is not measured by accolades and recognitions from distant lands; staying rooted in tradition, culture, and customs brings a greater sense of fulfilment.”
References to Nobel laureate CV Raman and the Indian philosopher J. Krishnamurthi (JK) in “Bear Behind the Glass Door” are some of the added dimensions to her reverence for the Indian thoughts and spirit. She highlights the noble works of Gandhi, Kasturba, and poet Nizzim Ezekiel.
Enumerating the universal Indian culture of oneness she cites: “The reference of Indian culture …”And finally, understand the concept of “Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam.” The world is one family, regardless of “ethnicity, religion,” or “culture” in the story, “It’s One World, One Life...”
The village well acts as a central spot for family discussion amongst women, children’s education, weddings, joy etc. Indian culture and the vivid images of the rural landscape are portrayed in the story “The Well.” The story revolves around making the village a place of happiness with traditional South Indian customs, although it occasionally feels overloaded with many characters.
Interestingly, the collection is endowed with words like yoga, kolam, Mahamaham festival , brewed chai, Pujas, Ishta devata, hinnai (sipping filter coffee), Payasam, palak paneer, rotis, Paavadai-chattai ,ghagra-choli Sari, Kurta –pyjama, Thambulam ( Goodie bag with betel leaves), and respectful references of Appa (Father) and Amma (Mother).
Poetic Style and Tenor
“Bitter-Sweet” is an interesting story about Pinky,who worked as a ‘chocolate taster’ in a factory. A beautiful assimilation of poetry with prose in between reminds me of the influence of Prosimetrum writings. She experiments with an inventive way of combining prose with poetry in the short story.
In the character, Pinky distributes chocolates to children during sale time. After some time, the factory closed unexpectedly, and Pinky lost her job. Hema expresses the agony:
bitter-sweet chocolates satisfying
to the palate
trials in life agonizing
to psyche and body
broken nest – bird begins with intensity
failed career – a sorrowful propensity
anything but sweet!
Later, Pinky gets a new job in a nearby school and the story ends on a positive note for the readers to rejoice.
Hema is an embodiment of a brilliant writer and poet. Hema is a mainstream poet and also a writer of Japanese short-form of poetry. Precisely so, the Photo-story, analogous to the haiga ( a combination of image and haiku) is an extension of it. She prefers to be simple in narration, gently keeping the dialogue with the readers. She enriches the story with poetic idioms creating soothing resonance.
She is very critical about war and conflict. In “Gossamer Threads...” Hema firmly expresses with poetic shade, “Little do these narcissistic rulers know that flowers will continue to bloom, and birds will begin to chirp...and they will go just as the way other arrogant rulers have gone, leaving behind “Wreck, boundless and bare” while the “lone and level sands stretch far away.”
Expressions like “a silent prayer escaped his lips”; “The large peepul tree nodded to the gentle wind as birds began to chirp gaily from the large trees overlooking the sunlit pond” (in the story “Anugraha”) etc add a poetic nostalgia to the stories.
Environmental Issues
Often Hema’s stories pivots on educational flavor and importance. The one that stands out in prominence is her concern regarding climate change, wildfires etc enumerated in “Whispering Park.” She is vocal in voicing: “The earth does not belong to man; man belongs to the earth.” She describes the beauty of banyan trees and poetically resounds: ‘Listen to the rustling leaves...Listen to the chirping birds.... Listen to the splashing waves. Listen... Listen... Listen to Nature’s Song...’ Painfully, she adds: “Trees are poems the earth writes upon the sky, we fell them down and turn them into paper, that we may record our emptiness.” In a micro poetry competition by children, she cites the winner’s entry:
banyan tree-
memories of grandma
stitching banyan leaves
The story of a bird lover, Glory, a chief librarian of a Govt. Library and the way she takes care of the geese has been nicely portrayed in the story “Geese Lover’s Tale.” This augments Hema’s concern and love for other creatures and their preservation with care.
Philosophical Attributes
Hema brings the essence of life and spiritual feelings, into her story. She conjures her inner urge through the family-centric landscape with delicacy. I believe the nostalgic approach depicted in the collection will resonate with readers for a long time. The journey of the widowed young, Kanika, in “Walks of Life” and her emotional exchanges with friends evoke profound emotions.
Recalling the days of joy, agony and resilience, association with her friends, Shanti and Mini, she feels: “The sun was rapidly descending to the horizon, and the golden hue around was mesmerizing, quietening all thoughts.
Is this the transcendental truth that ancient sages have revealed?”
Narrating a story of a Station master, Hema uses a mirror as a metaphor in the story “A Mirror Reflects” and infuses a subtle philosophical line: “We take what life offers!” With due importance to travelling and mingling with people of different cultures, she quotes “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a step” in the story “It’s One World, One Life...”
The collection is a literary souvenir for every family and Hema’s creation of ingenuity and intriguing elixir would add an exotic substance to every bookshelf.
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Hema Ravi
Hema Ravi is a poet, author, reviewer, editor (Efflorescence), event organizer, independent researcher, and resource person for language development workshops. Her writings have appeared in reputed newspapers. A prize-winning poet and author, her poems, short stories, travelogues, and articles have been featured in well-known international online and print journals. In 2023, 2024, and in March 2025, she conducted Communicative English sessions for the students of SheViL STEAM, an initiative of IITM. She was a guest faculty trainer in the Virtual Communication Skills Program for the Undergraduate Students of IIT Madras in 2020 and 2021; a resource person in the National workshop ‘English Language Skills for Academic Purposes’ at Sastra University,
Pravat Kumar Padhy, based in Bhubaneswar, India, obtained his Master of Science and a Ph.D from Indian Institute of Technology, ISM Dhanbad. He is a mainstream poet, an essayist and a writer of Japanese short-form poetry. His literary work is cited in Interviews with Indian Writing in English, Spectrum History of Indian Literature in English, Alienation in Contemporary Indian English Poetry, History of Contemporary Indian English Poetry, etc.His poem “How Beautiful” is included in the university-level undergraduate curriculum. He served as a panel judge of “The Haiku Foundation’s Touchstone Awards for Individual Poems” and haibun and haiga editor, ‘Under the Bash?. ’ His work has been anthologized including Contemporary Haibun, Red Moon Press anthology, and others. He introduced new forms of poetry: Hainka: a fusion of haiku and tanka, Braided Haiku and Micro-Haiga (One-word Haiku). He is honoured as the Confluence Councilor for Confluence Haiku Journal and the jury member for the “Wind on the Cherry Blossoms Haiku Project,” Associazione Culturale "Rami d'Oro, Italy ( 2026).
A MUST-READ STORY OF "A JIVE DOWN MEMORY LANE", AN EAGLE`S VIEW
Dr. Ajay Narayanan
"A Jive Down Memory Lane", written by Ailey Denis, captures the reader’s attention in many ways.
As I read it, I found myself immersed in layers of romantic moments and the profound depth of friendship. These two ‘emotional poles’ as the author indicates, unfold not only the characters’ feelings but also the organic growth of human nature. The story beautifully reveals the warmth of the bond shared between Jessy Kurian and Shane D' Mello, where friendship and romance intertwine with remarkable sensitivity. Jessy herself describes these experiences as her “wealth of thoughts”, a phrase that aptly reflects the emotional richness of their journey.
The narrative revolves around its central character and narrator, Jessy, as she revisits her childhood memories at Frances Hill. Her recollections are deeply intertwined with the neighbourhood, the D’Mello and Murray families, whose presence lends warmth and vitality to the story. Their Anglo -Indian lineage adds a rich layer to the story as it unfolds through the eyes of an ordinary non-Anglo- Indian girl.
The narrative organically unfolds as Jessy’s childhood crush on Shane gradually blossoms into love, though their relationship is marked by moments of tenderness as well as conflict. She never reveals her true feelings for Shane but on the contradictory, he does. The members of the D’Mello family are portrayed as affectionate, lively and full of joy, enriching the novel with their vibrant presence.
Surrounded by numerous children, Jessy’s childhood is presented as a delightful and inclusive experience, drawing the reader effortlessly into their close-knit circle. We soon become familiar with children like Erica, Martin, and Liam, whose presence makes the world of Frances Hill feel authentic and welcoming. In one sense, this is a coming-of-age story for teenagers; in another, it serves as a nostalgic memoir for adults, inviting them to revisit the innocence, friendships and emotional landscapes of childhood.
One of the most engaging aspects of the novel is the manner in which Ailey Denis anchors the narrative within a distinct historical timeline. These subtle references help readers situate the story in a familiar social and cultural context. For instance, the year 1994 is recalled as the year when Sushmita Sen and Aishwarya Rai brought home the coveted titles of Miss Universe and Miss World. Likewise, the arrival of Fanta and other fizzy drinks in India is alluded to as taking place “by the end of the mid-90s.” References to Doordarshan further evoke an era when television began opening windows to the wider world, bringing distant cultures and events into the living room. Such details lend authenticity to the narrative and evoke a strong sense of nostalgia.
Equally noteworthy is the gentle humour that runs through the story. Incidents such as the amusing misreading of “I hate you” as “I mate you” add light-heartedness and charm. The novel also incorporates expressions rooted in Malayali culture, such as ganji water (rice gruel), along with snippets of familiar song lyrics. These cultural markers enrich the narrative, making it feel both natural and deeply rooted in everyday life. Together, the humour and cultural nuances infuse the story with warmth, vitality and authenticity.
The concluding chapters leave the reader with a profound sense of loss as Shane gradually disappears from the narrative. The delicate, often indecisive relationship between Shane and Jessy—where they rarely apologise to one another, yet care so deeply for each other—evolves naturally from childhood companionship into a tender love story before culminating in separation. It is this emotional progression that gives "A Jive Down Memory Lane" the qualities of a poignant romance.
One passage beautifully captures the innocence and subtlety of their growing affection:
“Jessy smiled as she caught his eye from a distance. She motioned for him to calm down and followed it up with a wink! Shane’s mood changed altogether in an instant!”
The effortless flow of the narrative vividly portrays the emotional bond developing between the two young hearts. Though they are portrayed as ‘polar opposites - much like a Libra and an Aries’ - they remain irresistibly drawn to each other. Set against the backdrop of the era when the blockbuster Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge captivated audiences, their story carries the charm and nostalgia of the 1990s.
A turning point arrives when Jessy leaves Margalo, bidding farewell to her childhood friends and to Shane, as she moves to Mattankara in Kerala. The move marks the beginning of a new phase in her life. As she matures, the narrative also offers a deeper understanding of her mother, Valsa, a resilient single parent whose strength quietly shapes Jessy’s life.
The story reaches its emotional and the unexpected climax which is shocking and heartbreaking, leaving not only Jessy but also the readers with a lingering sense of grief. It is this deeply felt emotional ending that makes "A Jive Down Memory Lane" a memorable and moving novel.
And there the narrative comes to an end. Yet, it is more than just a story—it possesses a distinctly poetic touch that lingers in the reader’s mind long after the final page.
The narrative style is simple, fluid and highly engaging, carrying the reader effortlessly through Jessy’s emotional journey. At times, it becomes intensely evocative, drawing us into the warmth, pain and nostalgia of her memories. There is little more to be said about Jessy’s life; the story itself speaks with sincerity and grace.
In my view, “A Jive Down Memory Lane” will be a good reading experience for anyone who appreciates stories of friendship, first love, family and the enduring power of memory.
The glossary at the end of the book was particularly useful, guiding the readers through the culture and tradition of the Anglo-Indian way of life and helping them appreciate its unique finer details.
The book is published by APK Publishers.
You may reach the author at aileymdenis@gmail.com or
instagram.com/aileydenis
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Ailey Denis was born in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania and raised in the Anglo-Indian enclave of St. Thomas Mount, Chennai.
A lawyer by qualification, she spent over a half a decade working in HR, Training and Instructional Design before discovering her passion for storytelling in 2011.
Her writing draws inspiration from memory, migration and the quiet emotional rhythms of everyday life. When she isn’t crafting fiction, Ailey enjoys photographing flowers in overlooked corners of the city, baking indulgent treats and swimming — not necessarily in that order!
She lives with her family in Chennai. A Jive Down Memory Lane is her debut novel.
I am Ajay Narayanan, born and raised in Kalamassery, in Ernakulam district, Kerala. I come with about 35 years of teaching experience abroad. While pursuing my career, I was afforded an opportunity to engage in research in the field of education. After my retirement from work during the Covid era, I started exploring Malayalam literature. In a way, it was a journey of self-realization. So far, I have published three books in Malayalam, edited a couple of anthologies of poems and short stories including a book in English.
Published books - Parabola - Anthology of poems, in 2022. Avadhootham - Stories, in 2023. Thekkedathamma v/s Ramakavi - Stories, co authored by Darshana, in 2023.
I found my writing activities self revealing, fulfilling and empowering. I thoroughly enjoy these initiatives. The founding stones of my achievements were laid by my late parents Sree Narayanan and Sreemathi Sundaram. My wife, Umadevi and our only child Dr. Bhavana (Ireland) supported me in the process of becoming a writer. I believe that I am still learning.
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