February Fever!

Hi Friends,

Write Space is back once again with its treasure chest of creative stuff.  We are sure you are going to love it!

Write Space takes this opportunity to welcome our new Write Space writer friends:

Welcome Sunil Sharma. Your poem is sure to touch the hearts of the readers.

Welcome Madhumita Ghosh. You finally made it here! Your story telling is sure to get you a lot of fans out here (too)!

Welcome Indrani Basu. Your pet piece is really going to reach out to many.

Hoping Write Space is able to cater to the needs of all writers who need a platform to express their thoughts and emotions in the creative form they are best comfortable with.

Happy Reading All.

Keep sharing your thoughts like always.

Cheers!

Write Space Admin

 

 

 

POETRY IN ACTION: Homes by Sunil Sharma, India

Searching home,

Away from home,

He wanders—

Odysseus-like, in the

Alien lands,

Weathers unseen earlier,

Helping hands,

Smiling faces,

Each mirroring a rich nation,

Languages different,

Gestures common,

Each journeying

In the Odyssey,

Bound by goals,

Middle-class and global;

Cooped up in a small

Sublet, doors shut,

Cooking, ironing, studying,

Talking on Skype,

Remembering Mumbai coastline

Drenched in the fierce sun or the torrential rains,

^^^^^^^

Now—

Dreaming of the golden Florida shoreline

That quietly beckons,

The young lonely student,

—A teetotaler and vegetarian, a stranger in his own land for this habit among the Indian male hedonists, defined purely by daily intake of the meat and foreign liquor—

Away from the hustle- bustle of an Asian mega-city,

Secluded like a monk,

Doing individual lessons and Internet,

An international learner,

Searching love and home,

After every three months,

In grey Aarhus, covered

In rains/snow,

Moving about like a poor tramp,

Powered by a soaring young spirit,

And youthful determination,

In the university European town,

Where identical aspirations,

Come to

Complete disparate fellowships,

Of mutual support and understanding;

^^^^

In Aarhus, my dear,

A welcome occasional invitation,

For coffee in a restaurant

With two loving friends,

—Three is a crowd everywhere—

From varied geo- locations,

Sounds so good, real and fulfilling,

 A rich soul-curry,

Served with care,

Or,

A relaxed nightly chat with nuclear family,

In a receding far-off home

Now, it seems

Lost forever!

 

SOCIETY SUCKS: Terror strikes Hyderabad…again by Beyniaz Edulji, Secunderabad, India

On the evening of 21^st February 2013, we were on our way to a friend’s place in Hyderabad when we started getting calls from family and friends asking if we were fine. Terror had struck Hyderabad again for the third time in the last 6 years.

We were almost at the friend’s place which was just a few kilometres from Dilsukhnagar where the twin blasts took place and already the police were clearing the roads. Soon the disconcerting sirens of several ambulances racing past the house were the only noises to be heard. Mobiles worked only intermittently over the next two hours. The National Television Channels had started their race for Target Rating Points. The local channels were showing blood, gore and severed limbs. A little sensitivity would have gone a long way. One can only imagine what mental trauma the relatives and friends of those injured or missing in the area of the blasts were undergoing.

On the positive side, social networking sites were forwarding the details of hospitals where the injured were being taken, blood donors were offering help and helpful hints like ‘Please DO NOT call people! Send sms to loved ones to confirm if they are fine. Let the phone network be free for use by emergency services! Avoid any kind of movement for a while’ were being put up by socially conscious people like the Indian Blood Donors.

However there were still many incidents of people milling around the sites of the blasts, some to help, but the majority to stare, take pictures on their cell phones and generally hampering the work of Specialists, Paramedics and the Police. In some places, vehicles were parked hap-hazard in the middle of the narrow lanes around this area, obstructing the progress of ambulances and emergency services. This kind of ‘Terror tourism’ must be avoided at all costs. Do something constructive, donate blood and keep away from areas that the beleaguered police forces are trying so hard to clear. Also to be condemned are knee-jerk reactions from Politicians calling for a Bandh the next day to protest. The best possible message to the terrorists must and should be normalcy to show that we are not running scared, that we are getting along with our lives like before.

On the way back home late that night I saw vegetable and fruit vendors wearily pushing their still laden carts back after two days of National Bandhs, only to hear of yet another State Bandh being announced the next day. Last heard was that a candle-light vigil was being planned in the vicinity of the crowded terror strike area!

MUSIC TO THE EARS: Raga Malkauns-Inspired by Gallantry by Indrani Talukdar, Anand, Gujarat

Man tarpat hari darshan ko aaaj… Remember the delightful bhajan in Baiju Bawra? It took the  genius of Naushad to compose a bhajan based on the king of ragas, the heady pentatonic Malkauns, steeped in veer rasa. Leonine in aspect the raga commands a majesty that its more delicate counterpart – Chandrakauns – fails to inspire for the same reason. With its flat Third, Fifth, and Sixth, Malkauns stands tall amongst ragas. Filtered through the soft-limbed kirana gharana this valorous raga sounds delicious rendered by the tremendous vocals of the late Pt. Bhimsen Joshi uploaded by cypher8888888 on You Tube.

The supremo’s emphasis on each note – the hallmark of a true kirana specialist – happens to be the recital’s chief highlight. I couldn’t help contrasting this performance to the more ornamented rendition of the same raga by that legendary exponent of the Patiala school of music-Pt. Ajoy Chakraborty.

Punditji’s recital in chota khayal in ek tala begins with a short signature alaap. Despite the strong sentiment of valour in his rendition the deific elements of a hymn could not be missed. This seemingly simple duality could have only been pulled off by the laudative genius of the late Pt. Bhimsen Joshi who had had to run away from home in order to learn Hindustani classical music. His complex bol tans too, are a tribute to the great exponent’s humongous talent and command over musical grammar.

You can hear this wonderful fourteen-minute piece on www.youtube.com/watch?v=B8ImhlCYCj4. 

 

STORY SPACE: The Music Room by Dr. Madhumita Ghosh, Kolkata, India

There were days and there were nights, one rolling into the other, fading, mingling and engulfing each other. Indifferent days didn’t seem to affect the house much. They passed by in an unobserved routine play of light and shadow, seen only by the trees in the century-old unkempt garden and the drying pond heavily silted up with withered decaying leaves and fast-spreading water hyacinth that made the water body look like a field thick with vegetation fitted with little mirrors positioned strategically to reflect the sun at different times of the day. The dilapidated mansion didn’t care about day, or the sun. It stood in the midst of a wild growth of greens half-hidden by the aggressive woody limbs, itself sprouting dwarf trees all over its brick and mortar body. The house responded only to the winds. The rickety wooden window shutters with blinds that were falling apart, loosened from the rusty hinges, would swing in a gusty wind, singing a haunting distorted repetitive tune.

But the nights were alive. They spoke to the house. They played dark games, secret ones that only they knew, embraced and loved the house in its dark corners, lurking shadows and whispering silence. The moonlight lolled and rolled, when it visited the lonely house, in glee on the rough cobbled surface of the terrace and peeped playfully through the skylights with broken panes to gaze at the chandelier hanging in the sprawling spacious music room below. The chandelier danced in the breeze that crept in, hand in hand with the moon, a soft dance, the pendulous crystal pieces tinkling like anklets on the fair moon’s dainty feet.

The chequered marble floor in what was white and black one day, now an un-uniform grey, would feel cold if one stood barefoot there. One pair of feet did tread on the floor, into the room every night, but never felt the cold. They came in search of a warmth never felt, a melody never found, but longed for, with a burning yearning desire. But of that, later. At right angle to each other, against two walls, were a dusty chaise longue and a low bed, a kind of divan, expansive enough to accommodate at least ten people lying down. But ten people had never lain there ever. Only one did, half-lying, propped up by two velvet bolsters with five odd companions and three attendants, enclosed in a magical world as a pair of hungry eager yearning eyes watched, from the terrace, through the skylight, alone, with the moon for company. That was long ago. But the sighs in those longing envious eyes didn’t disappear into the roaming terrace air of yesteryears. They still hovered around the house, in the music room, lying low during the day, raging at night, becoming thick and solid like the tangible darkness all around that one could collide with, if not careful.

Two hands leaped up from behind all of a sudden, held her in an iron grasp and two rough palms slapped on her face, shutting her eyes and sealing her mouth and nose, gagging her. She was pulled away, dragged into a room, she couldn’t tell which one and pushed and hauled down unending stairs. She slipped and tripped until she felt water at her feet.

….to be continued

TRAVELLING PLACES: Beauty of the Beast by Vimala Madon, Secunderabad, India

Nothing can match the sense of delighted awe at seeing a wild animal in its own habitat. Nor is the sense of our own insignificance in the natural order of things so pronounced. So it was at the Tadoba-Andhare Tiger Reserve near Nagpur in the state of Maharashtra, a wild bamboo-thicketed expanse covering some 625.4 kilometers of core reserve area surrounded by a buffer zone of 1067 km. comprising 79 villages. Home to various species of deer and other ruminants as also carnivores, we had warned ourselves not to expect a tiger sighting, just to consider ourselves fortunate should we actually get to spot one but all our lucky stars must have been rooting for us for we got much, much more than we had ever hoped for!

Our package included a two-day stay in cottage suites and full boarding and 4 expeditions by jeep over two days, with driver and guide thrown in. The first outing was disappointing, nothing more spotted than the wild Indian bison from afar, curious spotted deer, nervous barking deer, stately sambar dressed in majestic multi-pronged antlers gazing warily at us before melting silently into the bamboo brush, and other animals of smaller size. The following morning in the deep chill of early dawn, we met a large sloth bear, unmindful of watching eyes yet warily alert as it rooted in the ground before sliding into the undergrowth when it had enough of prying humans.

Then came THE sight, and the highlight of our memorable tryst with India’s national animal mascot! A fully grown male, splendidly orange and black, crouched by the stream below the jeep trail, stopping at several points to drink,  unmindful of the several jeeps and their human contents. Soon, it clambered onto the trail, tail swishing slowly, and moved at a leisurely pace into the thicket on the opposite side. We inched alongside watching it through the bamboo branches and leaves, when suddenly it assumed a stalking posture, shoulders flexing slowly and paws moving silently one in front of the other. Then it was gone from our view when suddenly we heard an agonized cry. Peering through the dappled growth we saw antlers flailing as the large deer thrashed about for more than 20 minutes before it became still.

After that of course the spot became the mecca for all expeditions until the prey was disposed of by its hunter over the next 3 days. During the anticlimactic noon expedition we heard the tiger drag its prey further inside, away from prying eyes.

On our last safari our priority was to sight a female tiger with her four five-month old cubs or the one with 3 nearly adult year- olds. It was morning and pugmarks of cubs and an adult were seen leading to a waterhole. We waited breathlessy with other tourists before an open space between two large clumps of forest. Suddenly a large tigress emerged from the left and strolled to the opposite side. Partly screened in the bush we saw a nervous cub peering out at us, then suddenly dashing across towards its mother. A minute later the second cub did the same, then the third and the fourth. It was simply awesome!

We had got an intimate look into the reclusive world of a magnificent animal who, to save his breed, has retreated deeper and deeper into the undergrowth to avoid the traps, guns and electrocutions that are the poachers’ deadly arsenal which threatens to eliminate these precious creatures with a  finality that can never be reversed. Skewered data about the tiger population creates a false sense of complacency instead of bolstering efforts to protect our wild life and their environment.

Tadoba is also home to many endangered reptiles and a variety of the strangest and largest spider varieties, whose large red webs spread across trees like giant fishing nets. It is an ornithological paradise with 195 species of birds and raptors and 74 butterfly species. And some of the strangest trees  (many with medicinal properties) it has been our fortune to see – ‘crocodile’ trees(ain) with barks as striated and ridged as the reptile; tall, leafless , white ‘ghost’ trees shining eerily in the gloom of dusk, branches reaching up towards the moon.

How many lucky people would actually have been at a tiger kill and seen a tiger family as we did? Could it be because the Tadoba reserve is better managed than the others and flourishes as one of the best tiger breeding centres, with an excellent ratio of tiger sightings? Among other initiatives the villages in the buffer area are compensated for loss to their cattle by predators while local tribal youth form patrolling parties on a rotation basis, to curb illegal activities and reduce man-animal conflict while earning a livelihood.

STORY SPACE: The Advent Of Air by Michael C. Keith, USA

  Life and death are one thread,

                                                the same line viewed from different sides.

                                                                          –– Lao Tzu

 The Wu family had emigrated to the U.S. from the Gansu Province in Northwest China when their only child, Jin, was fourteen years old. Hoping it might help him blend into the new culture they gave him an Anglo first name. But Jason, as he was anointed, had difficulty adjusting to his freshman year in an American high school because he found the English language particularly difficult to master. Despite this, he soon excelled in his schoolwork and ultimately graduated with honors.

In his first year at a prominent New England college, however, Jason was confronted with what seemed an insurmountable challenge. He was required to give a ten-minute talk in his Introduction to American History class. The idea terrified him. The thought of standing in front of his peers drained his lungs, making it nearly impossible for him to utter a word.

While the prospect of giving a presentation robbed him of sleep, locating a subject he could talk about was not a problem. On several occasions his parents and relatives had spoken about the exploitation of Chinese laborers in the 19^th century gold fields and construction of the California railroads. At first he found the subject only marginally interesting, but as he searched the topic on the Internet for his class talk, he became keenly engaged by the plight of his forbears. It saddened and angered him to learn how abjectly they had been treated. I’ll let the class know about how terrible America was to these poor men, he thought with growing purpose. For a moment he felt confident about the assignment, but when he reminded himself that it involved making a speech, his resolve was shaken.

When he focused on his research, his anxiety receded offering him a temporary respite. “The Argon Mining Company and California Central Railroad employed thousands of Chinese workers,” stated one website article. He read on.

During and following their work in the gold mines and on the railroads, Chinese immigrants were persecuted by American workers, who perceived them as competitors for jobs during the major economic downturn in the 1870s. Many Chinese were brutalized and slain and forced removals, known as The Driving Out, resulted in the expulsion from the countryside and cities of a vast number of immigrants, many of them in this country illegally.

A photograph captioned “Miners suffocate in cave!” showing the bodies of several Chinese workers being laid out near the entrance of a mine drew Jason’s attention. In another photo, an Asian man of unusual height stood proudly and defiantly before two armed white men. An inscription beneath it stated, “Chinese labor leader Deshi Peng protests mining conditions.” In another photo, Peng was shown speaking before a group of his fellow laborers, his arms raised high and his fists clenched. What a brave man, thought Jason. His mood suddenly turned dark when yet another photo showed the rights activist being led away in chains. Its caption read, “Troublemaker led to gallows for inciting a riot resulting in two deaths and several injuries.”

“That was wrong. So wrong,” grumbled Jason. “He was standing up for his people . . . my people.”

…..to be continued

EMOTION IN VERSE: Hardly a Poem by Afzal Moolla, Johannesburg, South Africa

Splinters embedded under my skin,

each memory a shard of stinging glass,

^^^^^ 

I see that I see it all now,

the infinite regrets meandering,

down foggy alleys of yesteryear,

as decades and moments come to pass.

 ^^^^^

Wearing my many masks as I cascade,

leafing through my conscious betrayals,

of gentle hearts once treasured,

now left to decay, in the empty cold.

^^^^^ 

Seeing my treasures turned to stone,

while wearing the blues like a convenient coat,

untrue to most, I stand accused,

in the dock, the fragments of my past,

are all that I am able to hold.

^^^^^^ 

Where do I go from here,

as I stand ashamed, rooted to this spot,

my sins are countless, my excuses fickle,

the lies have been many,

and all the untruths have already been told.

^^^^^ 

Was it not just a fortnight ago,

when I was younger than I am now,

you loved me completely, you told me so,

while I slithered inside my thick skin,

shutting you out,

and embraced comforting desolation into my fold.

^^^^^^ 

Now the momentary tears have all been shed,

the wounds of time too, have silently bled,

and all beseeching prayers have been said.

^^^^^ 

I stagger on, my reflection a mirage,

my heart and soul battered black and blue,

 ^^^^^^

still, grasping onto the tendrils of hope,

if not, then I am truly dead.

PET PASSION: A Tribute to My Valentine..Twinkle by Indrani Basu, Kolkata, India

James Herriot, the famous vet, in one of his masterpiece described about the boy Wes, who in order to save his dog Duke from distemper, turned from a mischievous miscreant to a responsible lad earning honest money to buy Duke fresh food and medicine. But when Duke died, the same boy turned into a crook who at the age of thirteen started stealing cars. This shows that animals do play very important roles in the development of a child.

In this modern world of nuclear families where parents are busy in following their ambitions, a child find solace in the companionship of his furry friend be it a boisterous lab or a cool composed cat or even a hamster. This is very true in my case as my best friends have always been ‘dogs’. I acquired my first dog at the age of seven and from then on I have learnt so many things from each one of them. I learnt working in group, loyalty, patience, never to complain, adjusting power and many more…Animals can be our nonstop teacher…teaching us different facts of life that we are losing with our drifting off from the nature.

Jim Corbett picked up his Robin from a dirty basket consisting of a litter of his other brothers and sisters. He was told, Robin was a spaniel and he bought him for a sum of thirty rupees -when the pup was only three months old. Later, Corbett realized that he had indeed picked up a winner and when Robin was thirteen years old Corbett declared that even all the gold of India could not take Robin from him. I find this story of Robin very interesting because this was exactly what happened with me.

I went to my aunt’s house in Champahati  (Sunderban area) and visited a relative’s house. There I found that their Cocker spaniel has given birth to a litter of five puppies and one of them instantly attracted my attention towards her…her big, round, soft, brown eyes that looked up to me made me fall instantly for her…and at that moment without thinking of any pros and cons, brought her home – when she was just one  month old with my first earned salary…and from that day every penny that I earned went for her upkeep…her bed, collar, necklace, medicine and what not! And from that day began my adult relationship with her … a relationship based on love, understanding and trust.

She was very intelligent as a young pup and it was very easy for me to train her and she quickly responded to my different commands like ‘boso’, ‘esho’ etc. She has been my constant companion since then. I have heard that dogs who are left all to themselves develop problems but my Twinkle…that’s what I call her because of her mischievous, twinkling eyes …never developed any sort of problem. Whenever I leave for work she says goodbye to me with her beautiful eyes and smiling mouth and when I return from my work and before I press the calling bell, I can hear her excited bark and when the door is opened she gives me a hearty welcome to show how happy she is to see me. She never complains if I am ever late…she treats me like a princess whenever I am at home… she does not mind sitting with me when I am at home, she loves exploring our locality whenever I am ready for walk…she loves socialising with me when my friends come over for tea… so I, like Corbett, can tell that I have picked up a champion from the remote village of Champahati.

Only once in her entire life of seven years she barred her teeth to me because I unknowingly touched her paw which was painful. But after this incident she was so embarrassed that she remained lying on my feet and licking my feet for the entire day to tell me how sorry she has been to lose her temper on me…this shows that we have lots to learn from our pets if we do spend our time with them…even a small gold fish can teach us many things. We just have to look around and learn.

My sweet tempered, docile pet has taught me a lot just like the ones before her had. I am sure that if every child had a pet of his own he would be guided to be a wonderful person which is highly essential for our planet…

FEMME FATALE: Does empowerment mean divorce by Shail Raghuvanshi, Chennai, India

Recently, I came across a contest celebrating International Woman’s Day which is coming up in the month of March. Amongst the many topics mentioned to reflect about, there was one that caught my immediate attention. And that was, “Does empowering Women invariably increase Divorce Rates?”

I would like to think that empowering women does not automatically result in the creation of an arrogant, power hungry woman gloating with pride and throwing away love, family and caution to the wind. That would be a highly conservative and chauvinist view. Even the most fragile, weakling of a woman could cause a storm in a home. The woman needn’t be empowered to increase the divorce rates. I am sure many of the men reading this piece will vouch for that. A frustrated, nagging woman can really turn a haven of a home into one hell of a house (pun intended).  So, one doesn’t actually require an empowered woman to jump headlong into the divorce queue. Right?

But, it is a fact, a growing trend now-a-days, that when women are made aware of their rights, their powers, something goes haywire. Not always the case though. I am not generalizing mind you. But, when a woman becomes conscious of what she had been missing all along, (with or without empowerment) -this awareness kind of leads to a lot of grudging for the drudgery done all the years in the name of family duties, and sacrifice for the good of all! One part of her mind is extremely happy that she is finally getting her due while another part resents the time, energy, sweat and grime wasted. While one section of such suddenly empowered women are elated and make their lives better in their own silent graceful manner without opting to walk out, there is the other section of women who no longer wish to remain in the confines of society’s conservative, superficial and hypocritical laws. The latter lot are the ones who fall for the divorce bait.

Not to say that divorce is not liberating. For many it is a chance to be free, to be able to fly the way any human with dreams should. But, divorce may not always be the way out for all. Again, I need to emphasize the fact that only the woman having gone through a divorce for whatever reason knows how she feels within. Her sense of liberation or frustration, the stigma of being a divorcee and thus being ‘available’ – all are subjective emotions. But, divorce rates are definitely on the rise today. Be it in the upper classes or the middle classes. At the drop of a pin, a marriage that was solemnized for a lifetime is done away with. Those not brave enough to take such a huge step or those worrying about their children, step behind and continue suffering. But many others opt for this way out leaving behind a spate of broken relationships…and a lot of hurt, sadness and humiliation. So:

• Are our lifestyles to blame?
• Are our changed perspectives to blame?
• Are our ever changing priorities to blame?
• Are the easily available facilities and opportunities to blame?

This takes me back to the topic I had mentioned. About empowering women and increased divorce rates. The answer would be a yes and a no. No. Empowering women does not automatically lead to increasing divorce rates. Yes. An awareness conscious woman could consider the option of walking out of her marriage to make her life better.

This Woman’s Day, let us wish, hope and pray for a contented, healthy, happy and peaceful innings for women all over the world.