May-Jun 2014
short fiction
Vol 4 Issue 3
essays
64 Pages
verse
`50/-
reviews
On The Buddha’s Trail abha sah
Interview: Hansda Sowvendra Shekhar r k biswas
The Gambia Stories / Poetry
sarah rand
arun chitnis • barnali saha • mohd junaid ansari • nanda ramesh • p shukla & l luthria padma prasad • sita mamidipudi • snehith kumbla • somendra singh kharola • vijayalakshmi harish
May-Jun 2014 Vol 4 Issue 3 64 pages
short fiction essays verse reviews
Published, owned, and printed by Vaishali Khandekar, and printed at National Printing Press, 580, KR Garden, Koramangala, Bangalore-560095 Published at 177-B Classic Orchards, Bannerghatta Rd, Bangalore-560076 Editor: Vaishali Khandekar Editing Support: Arun Kumar, Manjushree Hegde Subscriptions, business enquiries, feedback: readinghour@differsense.com Ph: +91 80 26595745 Subscription Details: Print (within India only) or Electronic (PDF): Annual subscription Rs. 300/- (6 issues) 2 years subscription Rs. 600/- (12 issues) Payment via cheque / DD in favour of ‘Differsense Ventures LLP’ payable at Bangalore. Subscription form elsewhere in this issue. Online subscription: readinghour.in Submissions: editors@differsense.com Advertisers: Contact Arun Kumar at arunkumar@differsense.com / +91 98450 22991 Cover: Satish Kumar Story Illustrations: Raghupathi Sringeri Disclaimer: Matter published in Reading Hour magazine is the work of individual writers who guarantee it to be entirely their own, and original work. Contributions to Reading Hour are largely creative, while certain articles are the writer’s own experiences or observations. The publishers accept no liability for them. Opinions expressed by our contributors do not necessarily represent the policies or positions of the publisher. The publishers intend no factual miscommunication, disrespect to, or incitement of any individual, community or enterprise through this publication. Copyright ©2014-2015 Differsense Ventures LLP. All rights reserved. Reproduction of any part of this issue in any manner without prior written permission of the publisher is prohibited.
Editorial Ah, summer. It slows us down, and we follow its lazy curves, meandering past work and pursuant demands. Summer is saddled with expectations of good journeys, health, and harvest. It allows us to linger, unwind and bear the weight of the year… Abha Sah undertakes one such journey tracing the path that the Buddha traversed more than 2000 years ago, and transports us to Gaya, Lumbini, Sarnath, Nalanda… a journey replete with history and lore. Sarah Rand describes a journey of a different kind: an Audubon ‘bird census’ in the Gambia; a frantic, focused, exhausting activity of species identification and counting, and sightings of unbelievably exotic birds in their native habitats. An interview with Hansda Sowvendra Shekhar, who makes his debut as a novelist with The Mysterious Ailment of Rupi Baskey, reveals a writer refreshingly different from today’s widely travelled, jet-setting set, a writer who is quite content to say “I am afraid I can write only about Jharkhand”. The making of another writer, the delightfully named Patralika Patranobis, is recounted in the story The Truth And Fiction by Barnali Saha. The protagonist of Nanda Ramesh’s The Legacy is that all too familiar type, the corrupt politician, who must finally face up to his own devils too. Mens Rea which sounds like some alarming ailment, is actually a legal term; writer-pair P Shukla & L Luthria weave an engrossing story of a death at a high-profile law firm. In A Closed Universe Arun Chitnis deals with the trials of courage faced by a man with an unresolved childhood trauma. A Paradise Of One’s Own is a whimsical story, of a man’s death and his earth-entangled soul. Sita Mamidipudi explores relationships and the nature of love in Leave Behind A Whisper. Padma Prasad’s doctor protagonist comes perilously close to losing his dharma before he is brought rather painfully back on track, in A Doctor’s Dharma. It’s time, then, to take on the blistering days and the balmy evenings—bring out that ice-cream and go ahead, open up your copy of Reading Hour… happy reading! ~Editors facebook.com/readinghour readinghour.in
CONTENTS
14
On The Buddha’s Trail abha sah
ESSAYS
42
The Gambia sarah rand
INTERVIEW
26
LIGHT STUFF
35
48
REVIEWS
60
LAST PAGE
Hansda Sowvendra Shekhar r k biswas
FICTION 3
The Truth And Fiction
10
The Legacy
21
Mens Rea
29
A Closed Universe
38
A Paradise Of One’s Own
51
Leave Behind A Whisper
55
A Doctor’s Dharma
barnali saha
nanda ramesh p shukla & l luthria arun chitnis
mohd junaid ansari
POETRY 47
A Tattoo And A Cat
47
Walking Down Taboot Street
54
The Least Count Of A Ruler
59
Government Office Lullaby
vijayalakshmi harish
snehith kumbla
somendra singh kharola snehith kumbla
sita mamidipudi padma prasad
Inside cover: Pictures from the Gambia, courtesy Sarah Rand
FICTION The Truth And Fiction barnali saha Barnali is a transplanted Bengali currently living in New Delhi. She enjoys writing short fiction and poetry, and has been published in several magazines and newspapers in India, and in various electronic journals in USA.
T
he morning of the first day of winter was daubed with layers of fog. Fog gathered abaft the streets and hung balefully over the whole city,
restricting vision and disrupting traffic. The streetlamps strove to penetrate the miasma, but the yellow luminescence that issued from them seemed slight in comparison to the fog’s dense deposit. It was a morning overflowing with colourless gloom. In a sober corner of a pedestrian-less road, a little away from the busy high street where vehicles en route
to
offices
progressed
on tiptoe through the bleak morning, stood a weather-beaten house, observing, like a bent septuagenarian, the curled-up figures of a couple of street dogs on the pavement, with a bemused gaze.
FICTION The Legacy nanda ramesh Nanda worked as an Engineer before taking up hobbies close to his heart, like bird photography, writing and volunteering. He has published with newspapers, and Unisun.
I
slammed down the receiver, my hand shaking. How dare they accuse me of a crime! All I had tried to do was help our people. This was clearly a conspiracy by my detractors. My wife watched me anxiously. She was familiar enough with my moods to refrain from asking me what the matter was immediately. She would wait for a calmer time. I did not offer an explanation either. For now, I needed to get out of the house, organize my thoughts, analyse the situation and think of a way out. I called for Mohan, my dependable personal assistant, who had been with me from the start of my political career. He approached, looking concerned, probably sensing the gravity of the situation from my demeanour. “Mohan, get the car out. I want to go on a drive. Alone,� I instructed.
ESSAY On The Buddha’s Trail abha sah Abha taught English for sixteen years. She is a writer and translator living in Mumbai.
L
ast autumn, I was reading Old Path White Clouds. As I followed the Buddha’s life in the lyrical style of the Vietnamese Buddhist monk, Thich Nhat Hanh, a little longing began to grow subliminally. What if one could retrace the path that the Buddha had traversed? As it happened, a friend was going on the Mahaparinirvan Express and invited me. It was as if the Universe had sensed my yearning. Organised by the Indian Railway Catering and Tourism Corporation (IRCTC), the route covers important places in the Buddha’s life, though not in chronological sequence. Lumbini, his birth-place, is in Nepal, and one of the last to be visited. Bodh Gaya, where he attained enlightenment
is the first. The stops, therefore, are chosen according to geographical convenience.
FICTION Mens Rea p shukla & l luthria P Shukla & L Luthria are practising advocates based in Bangalore who co-author short fiction.
M
ost people read obituaries in newspapers but even if one wasn’t in the habit of doing so, the size of the one for Ajeeth Kumar, B.A, L.L.B, Partner of Rai, Johar & Associates, 4.8.1957-17.12.2013, would have commanded attention. The black and white photo which showed a good looking man with wavy hair was obviously taken a decade ago. Below the photo, was prominent mention of the fact that the obituary had been placed ‘in deep sorrow’ by the law firm of Rai, Johar and Associates, Advocates and Solicitors.
LIGHT STUFF Rising Sun, Sinking Souls rachna singh Rachna is a bestselling author of three books: ‘Dating, Diapers and Denial’, ‘Nuptial Knots’ and ‘That Autumn in Awadh’. This is adapted from her upcoming novel, ’Digs, Dogs and Drama’. More at: www.rachnasingh.net.
A decade ago, when in Japan, my husband and I stayed at a business hotel for a month. Now, the demarcations in Japanese culture are clear-cut and specific. A business hotel is meant for business stay, which means that you wear a business suit, leave for office, return late at night, make yourself some green tea in the room, take a shower and sleep. This was the definition till a dozen or so Indian ‘business’ people showed up in Kawasaki on work. They all checked into the same hotel, booking rooms for a month in advance. The manager, Iezaki san must have been delighted, and sushi-ed and sake-ed all night that day. But his joys were short-lived. A week into their stay, their families started arriving with bottles of pickle, bags of rice, stashes of papads, garam masala, and podi powder. These families comprised newly-married wives, slightly-married wives and wives with small infants/toddlers.
Recipe: Bundt Cake manjushree hegde
About ten years ago, an aunt bought a Bundt cake-pan from the States and made a present of it to Mum. Who’d heard of Bundt cakes in those times? Not me, not Mum. But there it was, a shiny red aluminum pan with grooved sides, and a central tube that would leave a hole right through the centre of the cake. A masterpiece from H. David Dalquist’s Nordic Ware.
FICTION A Closed Universe arun chitnis Arun is a professional content and copy writer, proof-reader and editor. His areas of interest are medical and lifestyle issues, family dynamics, parenting, natural health, home improvement, real estate, humour and fiction. He lives in Navi Mumbai.
S
aurabh Chakraborty’s office
In an unpleasant way, it was like an
door was one of the last few
alcoholic blackout. He had often
open as the ornate wall clock over his desk struck a solemn six o’clock. He looked up at it with surprise and irritation—in his absorption with the BPL file, he had lost all track of time. He felt slightly disconcerted as he glanced around, for the first time in two hours, at the now empty cubicles and work stations in the office. “Shit…” he muttered. When had everybody left? Once again, he had allowed himself to be preoccupied to the exclusion of everything else.
been called a workaholic.
Chatting With Hansda Sowvendra Shekhar r k biswas
Hansda Sowvendra Shekhar is a doctor, like his mother. He is an only child, and has never lived anywhere but in his beloved Jharkhand. And from the well spring of this love for his birthplace, has emerged a luminous story about men and women whose lives are woven with lore and magic, good and bad Gods, and a landscape that is almost surreal. The Mysterious Ailment of Rupi Baskey. Hansda’s novel traces the lives and times of the Baskey family: Somai the patriarch, his alcoholic daughter Putki, her devout and upright husband, Khorda, their sons Sido and Doso, and Sido’s wife Rupi, once the strongest woman in Kadamdihi. And it brings to vivid life their colourful stories in the Santhal village of Kadamdihi in Jharkhand. Hansda has written short fiction before. He has been published in Indian Literature, The Statesman, The Asian Age, Good Housekeeping, North East Review, The Four Quarters Magazine, Alchemy, The Tranquebar Book of Erotic Stories II and The Times of India. ‘The Mysterious Ailment of Rupi Baskey’ is his first novel. Here he chats with R K Biswas for Reading Hour. R K Biswas is the author of ‘Culling Mynahs and Crows’, a novel set mostly in the Bengal of the 1980s. She has been widely published in journals and anthologies both online and in print across the world. She has won prizes and accolades for her work, including the first prize in the Anam Cara Writers Retreat Short Story Competition 2012, and has participated in literary festivals and readings in India and abroad. She blogs at http://www.rumjhumkbiswas. wordpress.com.
FICTION A Paradise Of One’s Own mohd junaid ansari Junaid studied Literature at the University of Delhi. He has done comic series for newspapers and enjoys writing poetry and short fiction.
T
he day I killed myself, it was Basant Panchmi. I left my body writhing in pain on the ground, and began to rise up through the air, light as
paper. I watched my wretched body, the windows of my room, the apartment, the lane where I’d lived, all grow smaller and smaller in size. Good times must finally be here, I mused. I was already starting to feel superior to the puny willed human beings who continued to suffer on the earth. Now I was near the clouds, where the wind was strong, and the kites swooped past me from all sides with a terrifying whoosh! Just then, I heard distant cheers of ‘Kai po che!’ ‘Kai po che!’ from down below and in a jiffy, my ascent to the heavens came to an abrupt end. I felt myself floating down through the air like a feather. The locality, the apartment, the street came closer and closer, and I hit the street lamp near my window. On its pole I perched.
ESSAY The Gambia sarah rand Sarah is a practising psychiatrist living in the USA. She enjoys travel, nature-watching and documenting new experiences.
T
he National Audubon Society is named after John James Audubon (1785 to 1851), the French artist who documented and painted the
Birds of America. The Mission statement of the Audubon Society is: To conserve and restore natural ecosystems, focusing on birds, other wildlife, and their habitats for the benefit of humanity and the Earth’s biological integrity. There are 2500 Audubon ‘natural areas’, designated ecosystems where bird habitats are preserved and conservation programs are underway.
POETRY A Tattoo And A Cat
The Least Count Of A Ruler
vijayalakshmi harish
somendra singh kharola
A learning & development professional, Vijayalakshmi’s interests include literature and mythology. She is also a writer and poet.
Somendra studies Physics at IISER, Pune and enjoys writing poetry.
Walking Down Taboot Street1
Government Office Lullaby
snehith kumbla
snehith kumbla
Snehith is a poet based in Pune.
Snehith enjoys writing poetry and short fiction. He lives in Pune.
REVIEWS Are you reading this?
Invisible Monsters Chuck Palahnuik Review: Manjushree Hegde
The Mysterious Ailment Of Rupi Baskey Hansda Sowvendra Shekhar Review: Rumjhum Biswas
FICTION Leave Behind A Whisper sita mamidipudi Sita is a student in Delhi, India. Her fiction has been published in Rose Red Review and Helter Skelter and longlisted for the Toto Awards 2014.
F
alling in love with a woman is nothing like falling in love with a man. The first time I fell in love with a girl, real love, not the nonsense you
see in Hindi films, she was wiping the mayonnaise off her lips. Short Haired She, sitting in a cafe, reading a worn out copy of Fifth Elephant, which was my favorite Pratchett. Or may be it became my favorite in that instant. I don’t know really, linearity has never been my strong point. She sat across from me for as long as I sat there, her sandwich half-eaten, giggling at times, hardly looking up from her book, certainly not at me.
FICTION A Doctor’s Dharma padma prasad Padma is a writer and painter. Her work has appeared in Eclectica and A Thousand Worlds - An Anthology of Indian Women Writers. She is currently working on a collection of short stories, tentatively titled All Except One.
I
n the new clinic that Dr. Sibi opened at Number 44, Kamaraj Street, his hours were Monday to Friday, 6 to 8 p.m. He thought he would still do mornings at the old clinic, at least until most, if not all his patients got used to the new one. It was really quite convenient because the clinics were within two miles of each other. On the verge of sixty three, Dr. Sibi looked at least ten years younger. The top of his head was almost bare; he tried to cover the nudity by growing out the remaining hair and plastering it all the way across his pate from the left to the right. He had
a smooth, round face with clean, radiant skin and strong facial muscles, strengthened by a lifetime of smiling charm. His young patients knew all about this famous charm. Babies would fall under the spell of his benevolent gaze, and take their shots without a whimper. Feverish little girls were cured of their colds or strep throats or stomach aches or whatever, the moment he stethoscoped them; and little boys with growing pains only grew and forgot the pain when their mothers brought them to him.
LAST PAGE On The Sublime manjushree hegde
“My dog stood still, and then slunk back disconcerted. Plainly he too had to recognise that power. I called him to me; and a feeling of reverence came over me as I passed on… Love, I thought, is verily stronger than death and the terror of death. By love, only by love, is life sustained and moved.” Sparrow or a mountain, when they are sublime, they are all the same, for then, each becomes infinite. It is the comprehension of sublimity that makes life delightful, worthwhile.
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