CLRIJuly2012

CLRI CONTEMPORARY LITERARY REVIEW INDIA – a journal that brings articulate writings for articulate readers.

CLRI Print Edition ISSN 2250-3366

Wish to Live: A beggar on a street in Pune (India) writing her feelings on a paper to kill silence in her life. Your life is precious. Never give up, always try to live.

July 2012

Poetry

Stories/Criticism

Reviews/Arts

Akhil Katyal

Ron Koppelberger

Ghanshyam Iyyengar

Nithya Raghavan

Valery V. Petrovskiy

Meenakshi Chawla

Bestin Samuel

Ashok Patwari

Sanchita Choudhury Dr (Ms) Prem Kumari Srivastava

Lord Frederic Leighton Ezzeldin Elmadda

Krishna Keerthi Gopal Lahiri Editor-in-Chief: Khurshid Alam

CLRI publishes a wide variety of creative materials including poems, stories, essays, criticism, book reviews, film reviews, and arts among others. www.contemporaryliteraryreviewindia.com

July 2012

Contents

1. Pros & Cons of Digital Publishing by Khurshid Alam ................................................ 3 2. Three Poems by Akhil Katyal .................................................................................... 5 For the First Few Days ......................................................................................... 5 Khusro and Nizam ................................................................................................ 6 You ....................................................................................................................... 7 3. Two Poems by Nithya Raghavan.............................................................................. 8 American-Indian Daughter-In-Law ........................................................................ 8 Hollow & Empty .................................................................................................... 9 4. I Do Not Have AIDS by Bestin Samuel ................................................................... 11 I Do Not Have AIDS ............................................................................................ 11 5. Haiku by Sanchita Choudhury ................................................................................ 13 Haiku .................................................................................................................. 13 6. The Fifth by Dr (Ms) Prem Kumari Srivastava ........................................................ 15 The Fifth ............................................................................................................. 15 7. Get Me Before It Ends by Krishna Keerthi .............................................................. 17 Get Me Before It Ends ........................................................................................ 17 8. Three Poems by Gopal Lahiri ................................................................................. 18 Smile .................................................................................................................. 18 Sharing Thoughts ............................................................................................... 18 Pencil Sketch ...................................................................................................... 19 9. Three Short Stories by Ron Koppelberger .............................................................. 21 Flourishes of Half Dollar Renown ....................................................................... 21 A Breed of Rain .................................................................................................. 21 A Blessed Blossom............................................................................................. 22 10. Pete’s Records by Valery V. Petrovskiy .................................................................. 24 Pete’s Records ................................................................................................... 24 11. Mukhagini by Ashok Patwari ................................................................................... 26 Mukhagani .......................................................................................................... 26 1

CONTEMPORARY LITERARY REVIEW INDIA – a journal that brings articulate writings for articulate readers.

July 2012

Contents 12. Mistry's Bombay: Harmony in Disparity by Ezzeldin Elmadda ................................ 31 Mistry's Bombay: Harmony in Disparity by Ezzeldin Elmadda ............................ 31 13. Review on Lost In Seattle by Ghanshyam Iyyengar ............................................... 38 Review on Lost In Seattle by Ghanshyam Iyengar ............................................. 38 14. Review on Reading the Qu’ran by Meenakshi Chawla ........................................... 41 Review on Reading the Qu’ran: The Contemporary Relevance of the Sacred Text of Islam by Meenakshi Chawla ........................................................................... 41 15. Flaming June by Lord Frederic Leighton ................................................................ 45

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CONTEMPORARY LITERARY REVIEW INDIA – a journal that brings articulate writings for articulate readers.

July 2012

Editorial Digital medium is not simply a medium, it is space to our life. All its shortcomings stand tiny before its advantages. It is the best alternative to saving paper, thus to saving plants and forests. It is the fastest means of communication, you can fly your documents and files across the globe in no time and at no costs. You can share your heart and mind to the world without coming under any hammer. – Khurshid Alam, Editor-in-Chief, Contemporary Literary Review India

1.

Pros & Cons of Digital Publishing by Khurshid Alam

As there are pros & cons of everything so are with digital publishing. However, digital publishing enjoys more good than reservations. At its advent the print publishing took it too lightly and has the grudge against it. But digital publishing expanded beyond prediction and the print publishing is now feeling in the line on competition with e-publishing.

Advantages Easy to Publish Digital publishing is basically a self-publishing interface where you write a book, get it edited and proofread, convert it into PDF and upload to dozens of digital publishing houses such as Amazon, Smashwords and others. E-publishing is coupled with great easy of publishing and you can go viral in no time all over the world.

Wider Marketability The cost on digital publishing is highly affordable which makes the writers to pick it and attracts the customers as well. Its marketing area is without any boundaries. The writers have higher possibilities of selling their books to the readers from around the world. It is very easy to buy a book online and own a book of your choice on an electronic device.

No Snarky Rejection Once you finish a book, your next goal is to get it published. In the run to get your book published you submit to the publishers but you dry out when you get rejections from the publishers. Rejections do not simply mean your story lacks or is not fit to publish but more than that. In many cases publishers look for more than an idea, they look for whether the proposed books have the masala to sell.

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CONTEMPORARY LITERARY REVIEW INDIA – a journal that brings articulate writings for articulate readers.

July 2012

Editorial

Digital publishing has come to rescue a large number of those aspiring writers who have the idea but do not meet the substance of print publishing industry. Digital publishing has the power to cherish your creative dream beyond such fetters. If you want to have your story in a certain way, preserve it so. If you are not looking for money, no issues you self-publish and make your books available for free. The writers have no snarky rejection thrown on their face as does the print publishing.

Disadvantages There are some disadvantages which though are not of digital publishing but in digital publishing.

Traditional publishers generally have their own in-house editorial team. Howsoever your books are well written, edited and proofread, they are edited thoroughly. Traditional publishers do not leave the write-up to the writers but they work very hard on the manuscript. Their goal is many fold. They convert the manuscripts to the high standard of publishing style. They do good research on the subject and themes and suggest the writers to make suitable changes, if any.

Traditional publishers do the marketing themselves. They do so to earn money from the writers, rather than elixir in the literary art.

On the other hand self-publishing suffers from bad reputation of low quality on all fronts. For self-publishing there is no guide to suggest on theme and subjects, no compliance to writing styles, no research whether the story is original or a mere repeat of other stories etc etc. All these put the writers and their quality in the doc. For this it is very important that the writers must get their books edited and proofread by some good editors, must follow compliance in writing, get the manuscript reviewed by some writers.

Once again I would say digital publishing is coupled with more positive sides.

Forthcoming Topics Book Formats in Digital Publishing India‗s Stand in Digital Publishing

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CONTEMPORARY LITERARY REVIEW INDIA – a journal that brings articulate writings for articulate readers.

July 2012

poems At one

time poetry was a large part of mainstream readership. The public seemed to lose interest with the advent of gaming and the Internet, and now the Internet can be the avenue of restoration of this important genre of entertainment and enlightenment.

– Jack Huber, Poet & Author, http://www.jackhuber.com

2.

Three Poems by Akhil Katyal

For the First Few Days since I know you'll be coming down the road; since I've put away dinner 'til that time; since there is grass under ground, waiting to grow.

—Kyla Pasha For the first few days, everything here had a thin film over it, as if I saw them from the eyes of years before, that film is almost shed now and there is no distance any more between me and this gamble that is now laid down, between me and the places here where I am now hesitantly putting this hope – let me cope, after all, how tough can it be, there was love and now the next thing will be that which comes after it, a kind of (I find) modesty, an aftertaste, a willingness but without the haste and a new sort of ability to know before it comes, that trough and that crest, to know when it is time to go, and to know the time to rest.

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CONTEMPORARY LITERARY REVIEW INDIA – a journal that brings articulate writings for articulate readers.

July 2012

poems Khusro and Nizam The real causes of the loss of the Mughal Empire were some mistakes committed by the elders of that king [Bahadur Shah], and the biggest of them all was that they had separated lover and beloved from each other, by burying Muhammad Shah between the graves of Hazrat Mahboob Elahi and Hazrat Amir Khusro. —Ahmed Ali, Twilight in Delhi They parted them in their graves, for a Mughal to be buried in between.

Khusro and Nizam count the days, how long before this city's razed?

Part not the lovers, the curse had been, they parted them in their graves.

Now look from the ridge, all Delhi's ablaze, 'They exiled the king, what do you mean?'

Khusro and Nizam count the days, till Bahadur Shah looks for a little place to be buried in, far from home, unseen, they parted them in their graves.

Setting up the marquee, a worker says, 'They're white as milk, the new king an' queen,' Khusro and Nizam count the days, till the time another Delhi pays its ransom to the lovers that had been, they parted them in their graves.

Khusro and Nizam count the days.

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CONTEMPORARY LITERARY REVIEW INDIA – a journal that brings articulate writings for articulate readers.

July 2012

poems You You push the bag under your seat, sidle back, make space for more, 'This is the Piccadilly line service to Heathrow terminal 4,' you see attics pass by and vacant lots of the city you are leaving make their graffiti as if to say - a year later, it is only yesterday, a year later, it is only yesterday. And you think, if you were given one more question for her, you would ask, how long does this year of separation last, how long does it take for a shadow to fall between what we love an' what we fear; you are near, the tube halts, you take a long step out so as not to miss the ground beneath your feet, how bad a joke departure is, to leave everyone you meet. You board your plane, take your seat again, an' by way of love, the city tilts when you see it last, it begins to melt as the plane turns around, you sigh, for love, a bit like the seat-belt you tie, guards you but always holds you down.

Author’s Bio: Akhil Katyal is a writer based in Delhi. He teaches literature at Delhi University and his poetry has been published in several international journals and anthologies.

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CONTEMPORARY LITERARY REVIEW INDIA – a journal that brings articulate writings for articulate readers.

July 2012

poems

3.

Two Poems by Nithya Raghavan

American-Indian Daughter-In-Law She stands before you— your daughter-in-law, white-skinned, sunset pink touch of hibiscus on the American snowfall.

A tap‘s air-water pressure congests your chest in its prejudice and beliefs coil around your belly; snake hisses acid bubbles.

She is transformed, has waxed away her customs, falling from her bit by bit along with the curved black hair on her smooth legs.

She stands before you in the nine-yard Saree of your ancestor‘s traditions.

You‘re shocked. The society has footballed you in its opinions, stuffed trash into your lotus pink tongue, renowned for 8

CONTEMPORARY LITERARY REVIEW INDIA – a journal that brings articulate writings for articulate readers.

July 2012

poems its sweet speech. A door creeks open. She‘ll be one of the discarded antiquities in your attic, unheard, unspoken of…

Hollow & Empty Your words fragment into letters and syllables slip and fall into this phonetic space, never raise their heads at me except in those feeble threads of memories. I, the sarangi instrument standing before you am space, void.

Blow through those organs, sensations fall into slumber, a polar bear‘s hibernation nothing more than an echo in a cave or a wind‘s commotion in a tree trunk. I stand before you to let those scars fabricate into trails of shooting stars in 9

CONTEMPORARY LITERARY REVIEW INDIA – a journal that brings articulate writings for articulate readers.

July 2012

poems the night sky. I am what I am—Existence, nothing more than ~hollow & empty~ Author’s Bio: Nithya Raghavan has finished her BBA at Heriot-Watt University, Dubai. Her poems can be found on www.poemhunter.com, www.fictionpress.com (Ghost of Words), Muse India, Kritya, Asia Writes, Qarrtsiluni and Nether magazine. She has also published articles for Nxg, The Hindu, Time Out, Abu Dhabi, letters to the editor in Khaleej Times and Gulf News and a column in Khaleej Times.

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CONTEMPORARY LITERARY REVIEW INDIA – a journal that brings articulate writings for articulate readers.

July 2012

poems

4.

I Do Not Have AIDS by Bestin Samuel

I Do Not Have AIDS Even though the odds are heavily stacked against me, I am confident.

I do not have AIDS. Education taught me that morality is, fortunately, relative.

That I need not curb my desire to mate when I felt like.

That when I do curb, I am conforming.

Which, obviously, is for the uneducated.

The Philosophers among my friends told me that being bisexual is amazing.

As I get the best of both worlds. I was happy: I could crack a thousand gay anecdotes and jokes, and finally walk away with my girlfriend.

And let my philosophically-challenged friends heave a sigh of relief.

When I lost myself in the vortex of carnal pleasure once, twice, thrice With men, women and some who were children at their hearts.

I never felt a single pang of guilt. I was happy. Yes, I was. Wasn‘t I? Yes, I was.

Of course.

I‘m sure this article in the magazine on my lap holds no sway over my life.

Only the brothel-visiting sex-crazy perverts get AIDS. Poor them.

I do not have AIDS. My mind is playing too many games with me these days.

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CONTEMPORARY LITERARY REVIEW INDIA – a journal that brings articulate writings for articulate readers.

July 2012

poems Author’s Bio: Bestin Samuel is a postgraduate in English from the University of Hyderabad, and is currently employed with the Editorial team at Cambridge University Press India, Hyderabad. He evinces keen interest in Culture Studies, Dalit Literature, Eco-criticism and Christian Studies. Having presented papers at various National and International Seminars, he intends to pursue research on Childrens' Writings and Eco-criticism. He is also a prize-winning cartoonist and poet. He can be reached at: bestinsamuel@yahoo.co.in.

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CONTEMPORARY LITERARY REVIEW INDIA – a journal that brings articulate writings for articulate readers.

July 2012

poems

5.

Haiku by Sanchita Choudhury

Haiku 1 Winged time brings me here Withered time emancipates Time is immortal.

2 Droplets melt in rain Incessant drops oozing new Yet we need some more.

3 Needless to move on We move in the frame of time Race with time no more.

4 Stars and stars amassed A full moon night no specialA treat for the moon.

5 Feathers together Can‘t infuse life in a bird Being-becoming.

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CONTEMPORARY LITERARY REVIEW INDIA – a journal that brings articulate writings for articulate readers.

July 2012

poems

Author’s Bio: Sanchita Choudhury works as an Assistant Professor and DIC (department-in-charge) in Padmanava College of Engineering, Rourkela in the Department of Humanities. She has completed her Ph. D from IIT Kharagpur in the field of Ethnomusicology. She is also a performing artist (vocal). Sanchita is a poetry lover and spends her time writing poems and experimenting with different genres of poetry. She is a UGC trainer of Capacity Building of Women Managers.

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CONTEMPORARY LITERARY REVIEW INDIA – a journal that brings articulate writings for articulate readers.

July 2012

poems

6.

The Fifth by Dr (Ms) Prem Kumari Srivastava

The Fifth Twelve years ago, she entered the staff room. ‗5 appointments made,‘ exclaimed the colleague from Political Science disbelievingly. ‗Major tug of war ensued till late last night,‘ echoed the other. ‗Two new faces‘ chirped the ‗one‘ always with news. ‗Three predictable appointments,‘ crooned the lazy one. ‗the fourth a very bright one, the Head‘s protégé,‘ came a voice from the corner. ‗the fifth?‘ ‗we don‘t know‘ ‗An outsider,‘ was the unanimous verdict.

She heard it…all of it.

Her face belied, but I noticed her ears Beetroot red.

This was twelve years ago.

Today, she had called.

And narrated for twenty-five minutes.

I put the phone down and almost mumbled to myself, ‗she is dying.‘ This girl-woman with inherent brilliance flighty, unsure, grumpy, cranky, would laugh and cry in one breath, rushing in, when there was no hurry; in frenzy, when wholly unnecessary; A Samaritan for people in distress; a warm, wailing puppy, when in stress.

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CONTEMPORARY LITERARY REVIEW INDIA – a journal that brings articulate writings for articulate readers.

July 2012

poems Today, I saw a death of what she was, and what others thought - and rebirth all at once! into a bright, sure-minded poetess!

Author’s Bio: Prem Kumari Srivastava is an Associate Professor of English at Maharaja Agrasen College, University of Delhi. A Visiting Shastri Fellow at University of British Columbia, Vancouver in 2010, she has several research presentations (national and international) and publications in books and eminent journals such as South Asian Diaspora, Routledge, Indian Literature, Sahitya Akademi, Literary Paritantra and Creative Forum to name a few. Co-Guest Editor of the journal Fortell (Forum for Teachers of English Language and Literature), New Delhi for four issues in 2010-2011, she has been appointed the Guest Editor again for its forthcoming Silver Anniversary Issue no. 25, Sep 2012.

Her research interests are Cultural Studies (indigenous and the popular) American studies, Religion of Saints and e-learning: with an overarching focus on Gender. Her poems have been showcased in Indian and African journals.

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CONTEMPORARY LITERARY REVIEW INDIA – a journal that brings articulate writings for articulate readers.

July 2012

poems 7.

Get Me Before It Ends by Krishna Keerthi

Get Me Before It Ends As the world comes to an end, i can't find me any friend, I stuck myself in the room of, Loneliness I can't take off.

Chaos has got into my veins, Repercussion is what my heart's at, With it fights all my guts, But loss is the only result.

I try to get my hopes all high, Treasure all the might I live by, Revolting the dark insight, Forgive me oh pessimist.

One day the sun will dance again, My eyes will downpour heaven's rain, Grab my hand, we shall run again, On the shore of our dreamy nations.

Author’s Bio: Krishna Keerthi is a poet.

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CONTEMPORARY LITERARY REVIEW INDIA – a journal that brings articulate writings for articulate readers.

July 2012

poems

8.

Three Poems by Gopal Lahiri

Smile On the cluttered pavement, A boy fixes his eyes to nowhere, Rickety hands have only scars and wounds.

He never goes to school, never read rhymes Never play with the butterflies, smell the flowers Sleep on the streets unwanted and alone.

He has seen sun being merciless on his frail body He has seen clouds only to be battered by rain He has seen moon through his hungry eyes.

Tears roll into his eyes when he is beaten up for nothing Still he works on to feed his empty stomach Struggle hard to live life, save the day and night.

His weak legs do not hide the spider veins, Unmindfully hold a poster board...telling the world Look at me and spare a smile, it‘s free.

Sharing Thoughts Come and sit here, in this narrow, windy courtyard To pursue, to seek, to find and return to what I am Perhaps an era, an eon has walked past slowly.

Share something that blossoms; knowing your thoughts are roots Shift but never change to another image, grow but never wane A forward step, nothing behind, a flash of lightening in an empty sky.

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CONTEMPORARY LITERARY REVIEW INDIA – a journal that brings articulate writings for articulate readers.

July 2012

poems

We are miles apart, you say, life isn‘t like that fires within, Something is on the way, something is blocking the view Turning on the light, still lock in our magical dreams.

You are the true musicians, bringing smiles to my heart Lit up the mind with shafts of your melodious light, A kind heart underlying the flame, flickering images persist.

You always say- goes to the root look inside and pray For promises carve in the mountains and rocky stretches I feel shy, awkward, can‘t express what is in my heart?

Pencil Sketch A pencil sketch Look at me every night All that is good or bad Eyes not in cohesion, The aimless game Lurking around From one end to the other…

A contoured face Explodes in anger To get the fire along A whiff of suspicion, Her lips quiver Drifts in a low song Able to speak the truth…

And then all of a sudden Her silent words Each note each syllable Crumbles in tears, Winds whistle through 19

CONTEMPORARY LITERARY REVIEW INDIA – a journal that brings articulate writings for articulate readers.

July 2012

poems The cracks of the wall You look like him…exactly like.

Author’s Bio: Gopal Lahiri, a bilingual poet from India, has been writing poetry for more than twenty years. He writes both in English and Bengali.He also occasionally writes fiction, short story, essay, articles on current affairs and scientific interest and does translation work. He is an earth scientist and currently lives in the coastal state of Gujarat, India.

He has had six poetry collections in Bengali published from India and four collections in English published from Lulu, USA. His latest poetry collection in English (Silent Steps) has been published from Cyberwit, India. His literary works appeared in print (notably in Indian Literature, Taj Mahal Review and Illuminations) and electronic publications (Arts and Letters, Underground Window, Muse India, Poetry Stop, Debug etc) worldwide and his poems published in several anthologies (National Treasures, A posy of poesy, Concerto, Poet’s paradise, Global Fusion Voice, The Silence within etc) printed in India and abroad.

He is a regular contributor of poems to several poetry web sites. He can be reached at: glahiri@gmail.com.

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CONTEMPORARY LITERARY REVIEW INDIA – a journal that brings articulate writings for articulate readers.

July 2012

Stories Flash fiction is fiction with its teeth bared and its claws extended, lithe and muscular with no extra fat. It pounces in the first paragraph, and if those claws aren’t embedded in the reader by the start of the second, the story began a paragraph too soon. There is no margin for error. Every word must be essential, and if it isn’t essential, it must be eliminated.

– Kathy Kachelries, Founding Member, 365 tomorrows

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Three Short Stories by Ron Koppelberger

Flourishes of Half Dollar Renown The sole resemblance of chance and need, wont and waiting freedom, was a struggle in scarlet battles of wine and snakes that shorn confederate passage allow. He considered the wisdom of promise and pose, able arts and existence.

The half dollar fell to the concrete and the wind sang, tiny tempests swirled in the rain tinctured sunshine spears of light. The coin spun on the edge of a grain of sand as the seconds passed. He saw the design of dust and the savor of oaths in ash and dew, in sovereign applause and ether, in affirmed delight and amazing, absolutely amazing taboo. The coin fell still and random wills sighed in relief as the sun whispered and the world continued to revolve. He had half dollar renown and a distant love of life.

A Breed of Rain The eclipse of mystery in omens was a deluge in the life of Prey Claw. He found the crème in his coffee was curdled yet sweet and allayed to the harmony of sunshine dawns and wont. A wonder of ascending taste and a mildly amused rhythm of tender embrace. Prey sanctified the contents of his cup and swallowed the bidden blood, ―Ahhhhhhhhaaaaaahhhhhh.‖ he whispered in satisfaction and passage.

The springtide fray he thought in simmering reserve, the course of maelstroms and the way of weeping rain, he considered the beholden day and birth in trade with the gentle assay of what is and what has been a tear in the depth of miracles and myths of coffee care, a sweet and a bitter barter. He sipped and found respite, reprieve in rages of fortune.

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CONTEMPORARY LITERARY REVIEW INDIA – a journal that brings articulate writings for articulate readers.

July 2012

Stories Pray strapped the leather harness across his waist and shoulders in easy movements of bond.

Bond between the gods of chance and the fates that tell muzzy dreams where to sleep, where to amend the night and the calm in secret repast. Prey secured his harness to the edge of the cliff and around the trunk of an enormous weeping willow. The sun whirled immigrant beams of warmth and stray moted substance of soul. Prey took a final sip of coffee and in betrothal to the arrangement of wind and sun, teasing mountain balance and rapt crowns of revelation, secured the poise of his task and he sang as he absorbed the present. ―Foretell the blessings Of daisies and dandelions In tempers of rare wine And wild adventure, A Consonance with salvation.‖ The will of god saved Prey that morning and he endured in courage and sighs, wonder and sensation. * The rope snapped and a child would amend the faith in Prey, she would make him whole and in sunshine and rain, she would show him the paths of harvest saffron.

A Blessed Blossom The naturalness of the gentle blossom was in fine-spun magic with the seasons of both ash and harvest. A bloom in blushing chagrin with the accounts of angels and saints, full in sleep and boundaries of frayed glory. There was a perplexing innocence in the beginnings of reflection and birth, bearth and gusty meandering sanctity.

It came in sad sorrow of shadow and shade, a departure from love and animate intimacy. It was a cold proposition in favor of demons and blackened berserkers, the season in rebuke, the time of parched acquiescence and discreet dark diversion. It was the bane of passerby, the wane desire of soliloquies in bone dust, rattle and gossiping devils.

The flower cringed and withered in lieu of passion and sated cycles and in the miracle that defines the amaranth it found purchase in a new day as the specter of loves lost and declared diabolic dissolved into the soils of perdition, passing without further fanfare. A bloom in crowns of possession, a soul in search of harvest hearth, the amaranth of dark confessions 22

CONTEMPORARY LITERARY REVIEW INDIA – a journal that brings articulate writings for articulate readers.

July 2012

Stories Author’s Bio: Ron is a poet, a short story writer and an artist. He has written 102 books of poetry over the past several years and 18 novels.

He has published 642 poems, 600 short stories and 115 pieces of art in over 212 periodicals, books, anthologies and 9 radio Broadcasts.

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CONTEMPORARY LITERARY REVIEW INDIA – a journal that brings articulate writings for articulate readers.

July 2012

Stories

10.

Pete’s Records by Valery V. Petrovskiy

Pete’s Records ―Now, let his best friend have the floor‖, said a master of ceremonies turning to me. It sounded as if it were not Pete‘s burial but a recital or an inauguration of a monument. But no outstanding personality ever was born here to set up an obelisk; all were ordinary people, nothing to say, and they all were buried under regular oak crosses. The only monument in town was put to those perished in WWII. They were buried somewhere far away, and the memorial was here.

Pete‘s face was as if shadowed, but he looked quite sound and his haircut was regular. His eyes were closed as if he were sleeping, just had fallen asleep. Still there was no life coming from his face, a shadow lay on it. And the day was dusky, and gloaming, and no sun around. So, I looked at Pete and had no words. I proved to be unready, never had a rehearsal to say the last words to him. Sorry, Pete, I don‘t remember what I said. Not the right words I ought to. I hadn‘t prepared myself and I didn‘t say the main thing: that he was the best friend, not I! Then many fellows of his gathered around his grave. The master made room for me when called upon to speak. Not because there were too many people but because the graves were closely set: so folks who came along were cramped, one couldn‘t step aside. All of them were familiar to me though I hadn‘t seen them for a long time, and they hadn‘t seen me either. It was not the exact place to shake hands, and it wasn‘t the right moment: one was not supposed to at the burial in Russia.

I greeted them by a nod, as though we parted yesterday, that‘s all. As though I left my town for half a day, took a morning bus and was soon back in the afternoon, and already was missing all the mates, missed the green lanes and the side streets with soft grass, missed faint shades along the fences at sunset. In fact, it was ages since I visited my town last.

I never saw Pete asleep, just once when we had woken him up to take his record player. It was quite a thing! Then we took away his record player to arrange an occasion for high school graduates. School leaving party had closed already, and under exposed heaven with the stars like birthmarks a question poised in midair: what‘s next? And we made up our minds: a dancing party to Pete‘s records then! Dancing until the daybreak as it is supposed once per life!

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CONTEMPORARY LITERARY REVIEW INDIA – a journal that brings articulate writings for articulate readers.

July 2012

Stories So, we simply made Pete awaken then and asked him for the stereo record player. But I didn‘t catch Pete asleep – we were for music! Then we had hurried to Pete for music records by a pothole country road walking on air …

As for music, there was no music at his funeral. It all happened ordinary and dismal. He wasn‘t a distinguished one, just Pete. He was so plain that didn‘t distinguish bad things, no black! More than that, he confused black and white when speaking local dialect. He uttered ―black α white‖ – this and that, such was my playfellow, my close friend.

Though the sun didn‘t reveal itself that day, the sky was getting clear as it happens in March afternoons... Only on Pete‘s face there lay a shadow, not quite a shadow, just a tinge of a stiff idea as though he were about to utter a word or two. You know such a look when one is going to open his mouth, such an intense expression but no words.

So, now his best friend is called upon to speak… And I was unable to put it right.

A lonely crow would fly away from a crooked tree at the graveyard; it has nobody to fly to.

Author’s Bio: Mr. Valery V. Petrovskiy is a journalist and short story writer from Russia. Не is English Department graduate Chuvash State University, Cheboksary, graduated VKSch Higher School, Moscow in journalism, and got a degree from Kazan State Technology University in psychology.

He has been writing prose since 2005. Some of his writing has been published in The Scrambler, Rusty Typer, BRICKrethoric, NAP Magazine, Literary Burlesque, The Other Room, Curbside Quotidian, DANSE MACABRE, WidowMoon Press, PRIME MINCER, Hulltown 360, Apocrypha and Abstractions, Apollo’s Lyre, The Legendary, The Monarch Review, The Atticus Review, Marco Polo, Unshod Quills in the USA, and Australian The Fringe Magazine, Skive and Going Down Swinging journals.

At the moment he is writer-in-residence at Marco Polo arts magazine, while staying in Russia. He has recently interviewed in Gloom Cupboard: http://gloomcupboard.com/2011/08/11/valery-petrovskiy-interview.

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CONTEMPORARY LITERARY REVIEW INDIA – a journal that brings articulate writings for articulate readers.

July 2012

Stories

11.

Mukhagini by Ashok Patwari

Mukhagani Parvati had another glimpse of setting sun dipping in to the horizon. She stood there all alone, under a lean dried up tree, aimlessly looking towards the ghat1. She was scared to go near the ghat because she knew that the chowdhury2 clan will drag her away if she is seen too close to them. Village sarpanch and other biradari3 members were also continuously gazing at the setting sun. Impatiently standing in front of the crowd, sarpanch4 had a tired look on his face as if waiting for time to tick away quickly so that he could proclaim his decision which seemed a foregone conclusion.

Parvati knew pretty well what could be the consequences, but for her the situation demanded that she doesn‘t remain a silent spectator. She gathered some courage, covered her head with her sari and quietly started moving towards the ghat. Luckily for her nobody noticed her presence. She looked around and finally her eyes stopped at Chowdhury Laxman Singh – her father-in-law. For the first time in her life she gathered all her courage to look directly at his face. For a change his face looked sober without a grimace. But his king size moustache, prominent cheeks and deep set eyes still reflected the dignity, pride and arrogance he always carried with him. His loud and harsh voice would unnerve anybody – particularly Parvati who always trembled with nervousness whenever he gave her a scary look. But now she could stare at him with a sense of relief and hatred in her eyes. Chowdhury Laxman Singh could no longer shout at her or beat her.

His motionless body was peacefully resting on the pile of wood arranged by villagers for his cremation! ***** It was a great family disaster when Chowdhury Laxman Singh‘s youngest son Raghu got married to Parvati against the wishes of his parents. The newly-wed couple was not only insulted but thrown out of the haveli5 to live in the cattle shed. Raghu was mentally prepared to face a harsh reaction from his father because he had married a girl from a ‗lower caste‘ but did not anticipate to be punished like this. With the passage of time Raghu started believing that he has committed a blunder by going against his parents. Parvati felt sorry for Raghu‘s plight and considered herself responsible for his misfortune. The death of Raghu‘s mother proved to be a final blow to 26

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Stories Raghu‘s self-esteem and dignity. He was not even allowed to attend her cremation. Raghu was heartbroken. For the first time in 10 years after his marriage he decided to leave, never to return!

Parvati, as much as she could remember, was always a victim of patriarchal hegemony. Her father was very rough and abusive and sometimes beat her and her mother. When her younger brother grew up as a lad, he behaved the same way. This infuriated Parvati and she felt helpless in a world dominated by men. Her father-in-law, Chowdhury Laxman Singh was a limit as far as male arrogance could be imagined. She married Raghu against the wishes of both the families simply because Raghu was a gentle and caring human being. But even with that kindness, he quietly left Parvati and their son Sonu without even telling them. As a single parent, Parvati tried her best to bring up Sonu in such a way that he grows up as a well-mannered adult. Sonu grew up as a gentle and affectionate boy. He cared a lot for his mother. But when Sonu moved to secondary school he suddenly turned in to a monster. Sonu and his friends had a tiff with one of their classmates and beat him to death with hockey sticks, Parvati was shell shocked. Even though Sonu and his friends were moved to a Juvenile Remand home, Parvati felt as if death sentence was pronounced for her. Her memories of the past brought all ugly flashes of light in front of her eyes… her father…. brother….Laxman Singh…. her in laws. When Raghu left her she still had some expectation from life but with Sonu‘s arrest she could hardly bear it. She gave up and decided that she will not even pursue his legal proceedings in the Juvenile court.

While Parvati‘s dream of a respectable life was shattered, Chowdhury Laxman Singh‘s family also disintegrated. Raghu‘s both brothers moved to town along with their families leaving behind Laxman Singh, because he didn‘t want to be lose his identity as the strongest man in the village.

For first few years a lady from the nearby village used to cook food for him and looked after the household. But because of his harsh tongue and shabby behavior she left the job. His intolerably arrogant behaviour made him so infamous that nobody was prepared to work for him. Parvati once offered to help but Laxman Singh got so much offended that he abused and beat away with his stick. Parvati never dared to go near the haveli again. Laxman Singh‘s children and grand children also never looked back! **** It was early in the morning.

Parvati heard some footsteps approaching her door. It was after ages that her ears heard somebody coming to her cattle shed. Sonu…?….a pleasant thought crossed her mind….. she 27

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Stories could not believe what she thought…. Raghu? Another name flashed in her mind before she came out!

Parvati was surprised to see the village sarpanch with a small group of elders approaching her. ―Your sasur is dead!‖ he declared without much concern. Parvati could not compose herself to respond to sarpanch‘s declaration. There were just two words which echoed in her mind ―sasur‖ and ―dead‖. Chowdhury Laxman Singh was her sasur6 was a recognition which she never got in his lifetime. He always treated her like dirt and now the sarpanch, head of the Chowdhury biradari was recognizing her as the bahu7 of the clan which gave her a feeling of triumph – but Laxman Singh‘s death brought all the gloom with it! ―He might have died 2 or 3 days ago‖ sarpanch was trying to complete all the formalities, ―the stink coming from the haveli made us suspicious…!‖ Parvati did not know how to respond. With her recent recognition as Chowdhury‘s bahu she appeared to take up the responsibility and be ashamed of for this kind of an end to his life when none of his 25 children and grandchildren were around him, not a verse from The Bhagavad Gita was recited which could help his soul repose in peace, not a single copper coin to help him cross vaitarni river and not a of drop of ganga jal to give him mukti. ―Do you have any information about Raghu….?‖ Parvati got another jolt and felt embarrassed how to say that she has not seen her husband for the last 10 years. She shook her head and started looking down to the ground. ―Anyway we are sending two boys to town to inform Shambu and Bishnu. Somebody from the family ought to be present to perform ‗mukhagani‘….‖ Parvati nodded her head and did not realize that the sarpanch and the crowd has already left. She kept on staring at the ground as if excavating a tunnel which could help her to reach any of the off springs of Chowdhury Laxman Singh.

The villagers arranged some people from the nearby village to give the old man his last bath and prepare his remains for his cremation because nobody from the village was prepared to do it, obviously due to the stink coming from the dead body. Parvati observed all these rituals from a distance and could not dare to go near lest any one of them get mad at her. She quietly followed the crowd when the dead body was carried to the river bank for his cremation. Keeping a 28

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Stories distance she waited under a dried up tree which served as the boundary for the cremation ghat.

She waited under the tree with the hope that somebody from the clan would arrive for dah sanskar8. Shamboo and Bishnu had settled down in a nearby town and should have arrived by now. Raghu‘s whereabouts were not known and could not be informed….. Sonu….? Parvati thought for a while. At least he could have been around if he was not in the remand home.

Parvati could read the impatience on the faces of assembled crowd and the sarpanch. Sun set was imminent. Parvati felt helpless. For a while she forgot all hatred she had for Laxman Singh. After all he was her father-in-law and deserved some respect. ―Chowdhury Laxman Singh had a big family that comprised of 25 people and we can‘t see anybody here….. shame …shame …..‖ she imagined as if these loud voices are coming from the crowd !

Sarpanch looked towards the sun setting for the last time and then looked at the people who had assembled around the pyre, he cleared his throat and said ―I am sorry. Nobody has come‖ He paused for a second and then declared ―I think Kaloo charji will have to perform the rites‖ ―But…?‖ everybody was surprised because a charji is not normally supposed to perform mukhagini to lit the pyre. But given the reality, nobody said anything.

As usual Kaloo charji had drunk the country liquor and was lying with face down on his rickety charpai when he was called by the sarpanch. Kaloo lifted his body with great effort and with a staggering gait he walked towards the pyre. Pandit Ji, thrust the log of wood in Kaloo‘s hands for lighting the pyre. ―No‖ screamed Parvati from the crowd. Everybody turned around and looked towards her. ―No. Kaloo won‘t….‖ Parvati rushed towards Pandit Ji, snatched the log of wood from Kaloo‘s hand and roared like a tigress, ―I will perform Mukhagini. His ‗bahu‘ is alive…‖ ―No. You can‘t.‖ shouted Pandit Ji and hysterically started running after her, ―A woman cannot do this, that too a…‖ Parvati pushed him aside and lighted the log of wood. ―Stop her…. Stop this anarth9….somebody stop her‖ waned Pandit Ji who was unable to get back on his feet. Before somebody could forcibly stop Parvati, sarpanch stepped forwards and with his raised finger indicated to everybody to let her do it.

Parvati performed ‗mukhagini‘ and sat in front of the pyre, crying bitterly, perhaps for the first time in her life.

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Stories Hints: 1.

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ghat: a common place at the bank of a river choudhary: a type of a caste biradari: caste group sarpanch: village chairman haveli: house that symbolizes special dignity sasur: father-in-law bahu: daughter-in-law sanskar: culture anarth: sin Author’s Bio: Ashok Patwari is a Pediatrician and Research Professor, International Health, School of Public Health, Boston University, USA. Earlier he was Professor of Pediatrics at Lady Hardinge Medical College, New Delhi. His short stories have been published in leading Urdu journals since 1968. His compilation of Urdu short stories, "Kuch lamhe kuch saayey", won him the Delhi Urdu Academy award in 2005.

He has also published a compilation of Hindi short stories,"Behta Paani". Ashok Patwari can be contacted at: akpatwari@gmail.com.

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criticism

I criticize by creation - not by finding fault. – Marcus Tullius Cicero

12.

Mistry's Bombay: Harmony in Disparity by Ezzeldin Elmadda

Mistry's Bombay: Harmony in Disparity by Ezzeldin Elmadda Introduction This article discusses Rohinton Mistry's portrayal of the city of Bombay as a unique locale in India and in his fiction with all the differences of its inhabitants in terms of ethnic background and religion.

The article in particular focuses on Mistry's novel Family Matters, with reference to the other novels in general as well as his collection of short stories Tales From Firozsha Baag. The focus is on the quotidian life of the people of Bombay and their harmony in living in tolerance despite all the difficulties and hardship of life in this city as depicted by the novelist. It explores the reason behind choosing Bombay as a setting in almost all Mistry's novels.

Like Dickens's London, Bombay is associated with the setting of almost all Rohinton Mistry's novels. Misrty sticks to the old name of the city even in his recent novels, although the city name has been changed to Mumbai since 1996.

The questions this paper pose: what is unique with this city? And what made the novelist fond of it? The paper will attempt to answer these questions by referring to some of Mistry's novels and some of his characters in them.

Bombay has it is significant place in almost all Mistry's novels and short stories. Sometimes it is portrayed as a protagonist and humanized. The city is depicted vividly showing its positive and negative sides with all the entailed social ramifications. Undoubtly, Bombay is used as location for some Indian writers in English like Salman Rudhdie and many others who experienced living 31

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criticism in it. As Roshan G. Shahani argues about the narrative in Bombay in general "To locate the narrative text in Bombay, is to textualise the complexity of its realities and to problematise the unrepresentative quality of a 'typical' Bombay experience (1252)."

Family Matters In Family Matters (2002) Mr. Kapur tells Yezad: What I feel for Bombay you will never know. It's like the pure love for a beautiful woman, gratitude for her existence, and devotion to her living presence. If Bombay were a creature of flesh and blood, with my blood type, Rh negative- and very often I think she is- then I would give her a transfusion down to my last drop, to save her life (152).

Later on Mr. Kapur proceeds telling Yezad,"You know I 'm always talking about Bombay-how it means to me, how much it has given me (157)."

The welcoming nature of the city of Bombay against all difficulties and hardship is well appreciated by Mistry through the character of Mr. Kapur explaining to his employee Yezad: "You see how we two are sitting here, sharing? That's how people have lived in Bombay.

That's why Bombay has survived floods, disease, plaque, water shortage, bursting drains and sewers, all the population pressures. In her heart there is room for everyone who wants to make a home here'' (152) What Mr. Kapur has said shows the strong ties and bond between the novelist and the city where he was born. The city that he left behind in 1975 when he migrated to Canada, however the memory and love of this city remained within him.

For Mr. Kapur as the representative of the novelist, Bombay seems to have many attributes and traits that it deserves to be loved and adored. These positive attributes made the city fortified and resilient to all kinds of threats that tend to crumble and bring down it is social strata and harmony. As M.L. Pandit argues that Mistry ―writes most authentically about his experience in India before going to Canada (16).‖ As Mr. Kapur asserts: Bombay endures because it gives and it receives within this wrap and weft is woven the special texture of it is social fabric, the spirit of tolerance, acceptance, generosity.

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criticism Anywhere else in the world, in those so called civilized places like England and America, such terrible conditions would lead to revolution (152).

Jaydipsinh Dodiya believes that "Mistry's love for his old city, Bombay, shines through loud and clear in the words of Mr. Kapur (94)."

Mistry tries hard to demonstrate the picture of Indian demography in his novels by bringing together different characters of different Indian communities, different religions and different social backgrounds.

The harmony and unity of the people of Bombay is clearly portrayed when Mr. Kapur in Family Matters describes a scene at the railway station where he was observing passengers: I never travelled by train, I see how crowded they are when I drive past the tracks. But from the platform that day I saw something new. A train was leaving, completely packed, and the men running alongside gave up. All except one. I kept my eyes on him, because the platform was coming to an end. Suddenly, he raised his arms. And people on the train reached out and grabbed them. What were they doing, he would be dragged and killed, I thought! A moment later, they had lifted him off the platform. Now his feet were dangling outside the compartment, and I almost screamed to stop the train. His feet pedaled the air. They found a tiny spot on the edge, slipped off, found it again. (159-60) The passenger risks his life and trusts 'strangers' to bring him to safe spot on the train.

Mr. Kapur wonders, ―Whose hands were they, and whose hands where they grasping? Hindu, Muslim, Dalit, Parsi, Christian? No one cared. Fellow passengers, that's all they were (160).‖ The railway station scene is a rare scene that can only be observed in India and mainly in Bombay to witness the people assist each other irrespective of what religion or caste one belongs to. The real scenes of actual daily life of this city are meticulously registered by Mistry in his fiction. Mistry excels in drawing real scenes from real life.

Dodiya remarks, ―It is in this realism which makes Mistry well known (93).‖ Mr. Kapur continues his admiration for Bombay ―This beautiful city of seven Islands, this jewel by the Arabian sea…this enigma of cosmopolitanism where races and religions live side by side 33

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criticism and cheek by jowl in peace and harmony, this diamond of diversity, this generous goddess who embraces the poor and the hungry and the huddled masses… (160).‖ Strangely enough, Mr. Kapur the true lover of the city of Bombay has lost his life for refusing to change his shop signboard from 'Bombay Sporting Goods Emporium' to ' Mumbai Sporting Goods Emporium' when requested by two members from Shiv Sena. He wants to retain the name of the city that fascinated him if not for the city itself which he has no hands in that at least to retain the name for the shop he thinks he has full authority on it by virtue of ownership.

In Such A long Journey (1991) Mistry's rejection of changing names of streets and places is pronounced through his Parsi character Dinshwaji when he talks to his friends Gustad: Names are so important. I grew up on Lamington Road. But it has disappeared, in its place Dadasaheb Bhadkhamkar Marg. My school was on Carmac Road. Now suddenly it's in on Lokmanya Tilak Marg. I live at Sleater Road soon that will also disappear. My whole life I have come to work at flora Fountain. And one day the name changes. So, what happens to the life I have lived? Was I living the wrong life, with all the wrong names? Will I get a second chance to live it all again, with these new names? Tell me what happens to my life. Rumbled like that? Tell me! (74) Mistry puts the blame on Siva Sena for creating havoc in the city by changing names and sowing the seeds of conflicts between different communities of one nation. He goes far even to insult and uses derogatory words in this novel describing the leader of this group which resulted in banning his novel from being taught at University of Mumbai in addition to public burning of his book. His beloved city university rejected his book and removed it from the syllabus like Mr. Kapur in Family Matters whom denied a place on the crowded train of the city he loves.

In his novels, Mistry does not advocate zero tolerance or the use of violence, but sincerely condemned such behaviour.

Bombay is the representative of India‘s multicultural society as a whole. It is the microcosm of life in India. In Family Matters we find the owner Mr. Kapur is a Sikh, Yezad is a Parsi and Husain the peon is a Muslim. They work in harmony and tolerance like members of one family at 'Bombay Sporting Goods Emporium' In his first collection of short stories Tales from Firozsha Baag (1987) the inhabitants of the Baag building belong to different castes and religions. The same way we see the inhabitants of 34

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criticism Khodadad building in Such A long Journey belong to major castes and religions in India. It is also materialized when Gustad asks the pavement artist to draw some gods and goddess of different religions on the building compound wall to stop the people from urinating on the wall.

Although, this seems humorous, but it is Mistry fascinating way to tackle problems and to bring religions together to live in harmony despite all the differences. When the pavement artist is questioned by Gustad about his knowledge of different gods of different religions, it turns out that the artist 'has degree in world religions' then the artist smiled, "There is no difficulty. I can cover three hundred miles if necessary using assorted religions and their gods, saints and prophets: Hindu, Sikh, Judaic, Christian, Muslim, Zoroastrian, Buddhist, Jainist (182)."

Consequently, the pavement artist carries out his job happily with the portraits of symbols and idols of all the major religions in India. When it comes to Islam he draws a portrait of 'Jumma Mosque' for Islam 'prohibits portraits of prophets'.

Mistry seems to have detailed knowledge about Indian religions which enabled him to write accurately without cultural or religious flaws.

Another instance from Such A long Journey of religious tolerance and harmony in Bombay is seen in Gustad who has no limitation as a Parsi to befriend Malcolam who is Christian even accompanies him to Mount Mary church to pray for his sick daughter Roshan as well as to interact with Ghulam Mohammed who is a Muslim.

In A Fine Balance (1996) Mistry gives full vent to his anger in various ways against the sexual exploitation of low caste women, the caste system in general and the atrocities committed during the 'State of Internal Emergency' and the disposition of poor people under the pretext of city beautification.

But still these atrocities have not taken away his love to his city and whenever there are dark sides there are lights. Mistry depicts in A Fine Balance how Hindu and Muslim families protect one another as the communal riots spark in India when the British in 1947 decided to divide the country into two (India and Pakistan). Families show solidarity and unity during this ordeal in the history of modern India as Om and Ishvar in this novel protect Ashraf Chacha's family from being exterminated by the angry mob. Furthermore, by the end of the novel we see Dina who is a Parsi still helps her Hindu tailors even when they are reduced to beggars.

From what is mentioned the answers for the questions posed at the beginning of this article can be already inferred.

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criticism Rohinton Mistry is fond of his city Bombay not (Mumbai) the city he has known since his childhood and for 23 years of his life spent in it. Changing the name means changing the history and memory.

As I resembled Bombay to Dickens's London at the onset of my argument for Dickens himself was fond of London of his childhood; the London of the couches and horses the magic of the past. Despite the fact that, trains started service in London in 1854 during Dickens' life he never brought London of trains except in one novel Our Mutual Friend. However, London of the couches and horses occupied most of his works.

The uniqueness of Bombay is seen in its people and their peaceful living together in tolerance regardless of their shades of colour, religion, caste or ethnic background. Bombay is the real example of modern India which transcends the differences of its nation and brings them together in unity and harmony. It is Mistry's Bombay which shows the harmony in disparity.

Similarly, Mistry resents any disruption of this harmony whether by changing the names or creating conflicts among the different communities of the peaceful city.

References: 1. Dodyia, Jaydipsinh. Perspectives on the Novels of Rohinton Mistry. India: SARUP and SONS, 2006. Print.

2. http://www.en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charles_Dickens Web. 20 February 2012.

3. Mistry, Rohinton. Tales From Firozsha Baag. London: Faber and Faber, 1987. Print.

4. Such A long Journey. London: Faber and Faber, 1991.Print.

5. A Fine Balance. London: Faber and Faber, 1995.Print.

6. Family Matters. London: Faber and Faber, 2002.Print.

7. Pandit M.L."Fiction across Worlds: Some Writers of Indian Origin in Canada" The Fiction of Rohinton Mistry. Ed. Joydipsinh Dodiya. London: Sangam Books, 1998.1422.Print 8. Shahani , Roshan G. "Polyphonous Voices in the City: Bombay's Indian-English Fiction " 9. Economic and Political Weekly, 30. 21 (May 27, 1995): 1250-1254.Web. 04 August 2011.

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criticism Author’s Bio: Ezzeldin Elmadda is a writer.

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Book reviews The artist doesn’t have time to listen to the critics. The ones who want to be writers read the reviews, the ones who want to write don’t have the time to read reviews.

– William Faulkner

13.

Review on Lost In Seattle by Ghanshyam Iyyengar Lost In Seattle – A novel that traces social turmoil in the after math of the recession Khurshid Alam, Editor-in-Chief, Contemporary Literary Review India

Review on Lost In Seattle by Ghanshyam Iyengar Bruce Louis Dodson, in his debut novel Lost in Seattle, tracks the economic slowdown that descended in 2008 on America and its impact through the middle-aged character William Brenner. Willie, who once had a well-paid job, ruled the roost until his organization, like many others, bit the dust. Financially and socially broken, Willie is forced now to shuffle from one temp job to another.. Divorced and unable to bring his ailing mother to stay with him, the protagonist watches his credit card debt pile up. As the walls close in, he toys with the idea of accepting the bribe of a job to give false testimony against a friend.

Willie is forced to live in acute loneliness and decides to find joys wherever he can and with whoever he can; a parrot, a drug addict, and a sexy artist. Willie temporarily brings home Lulu, the parrot, but the feathered companion soon becomes an indispensible part of his life. He rescues George, his African-American fellow temp worker, from a work accident and unwittingly sparks an unusual friendship between them. However, his ultimate bliss lies in the company of the tempting Alice.

Lost in Seattle is a story of frustration and depression – and the will to float instead of sink.

Willie becomes a victim of the recession and struggles to regain balance in his life. Working various odd jobs as a temporary worker and trying to make ends meet, Willie befriends people he never thought he would as he is thrown headfirst into hazardous manual jobs.

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Book reviews The highlight of William‘s new life is his intimate relationship with a much younger woman, an artist, Alice. In order to impress Alice, Willie starts to write, creating a story around the experiences of his mother, Faith, who suffers from Alzheimer‘s. The next turning point in his life comes when his young daughter, Mary, arrives from a Buddhist monastery, to live with him. Her composure and quiet optimism brings real warmth into Willie‘s otherwise cold and dreary life.

With the help of Mary‘s efforts, Willie is able to reconnect with his ex-wife Laurie, whom he still loves. The story closes with hopes of a new beginning in his personal as well as professional life, but hints at further struggle.

The storyline is realistic and reflects the pessimism prevalent in contemporary times. However, the author‘s pragmatic approach is revealed in the unending perseverance of the characters to overcome their struggles and problems through hard work. The light at the end of the tunnel is constantly visible and the tone of the novel echoes optimism with tiny flecks of hope thrown in between broken relationships and the stresses of unemployment. It reminds me of a quote, ―There is nothing worse in the world than the end of hope.‖ The breaks or pauses (the Robert Roberts Show) used as a device to reflect and comment on the society and milieu represented in the novel like the inter-chapters employed by Steinbeck (The Grapes of Wrath) present a glimpse into the stark reality of life: the recession and downsizing plaguing present day society. The end seems to turn hopeful only to announce further bleakness with news of further layoffs that indicates yet another fight, yet another struggle.

The theme of the novel is nonetheless one that has been used by various contemporary writers from Salman Rushdie to Stephen Gill. The theme centers on the burning topic of economic meltdown, globalization, unemployment, immigration, outsourcing of jobs and its after effects on the individual, the family and society. The work holds much potential and great market value as it addresses those contemporary issues that are close to the hearts and minds of the readers today. The language is simple, lucid and carries the nuances of the American life. In fact, the novel aptly and truly represents the social milieu to which it belongs. The contemporary life scenario makes the novel interesting, balanced and thought provoking. The variety of themes and the lucid language makes Lost in Seattle by Bruce Louis Dodson a ‗must read‘ novel.

The author Bruce Louis Dodson is talented and insightful. His language and expressions reflect his grasp of the society he represents in the novel, while his delineation of characters reveal his genius in comprehending and portraying the depths of their dilemmas, yearnings, trials and tribulations.

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Book reviews Reviewer’s Bio: Ghanshyam Iyengar is a critic editor and review writer with CLRI.

Book Title: Lost In Seattle Author: Bruce Louis Dodson Publisher: Amazon.com, 2012. http://www.amazon.com/Lost-In-Seattleebook/dp/B00819TZVM/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1337594092&sr=8-2

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Book reviews

14.

Review on Reading the Qu’ran by Meenakshi Chawla

Review on Reading the Qu’ran: The Contemporary Relevance of the Sacred Text of Islam by Meenakshi Chawla We live in an unsettled and unsettling world. Religion is at once a personal value and a public stance – it is at an uncertain juncture in these unsettled times. At the heart of present uncertainties and perceived future impossibilities is a book - the Qu‘ran, the Sacred Text of Islam. What is read as the Qu‘ran and how it is interpreted by people, both Muslims and nonMuslims, contributes to contemporary debates, positions, arguments and fears. To that end, this book by Ziauddin Sardar is an invaluable resource. Written with conviction, and a humility born of study and reflection, the book attempts to demystify the message of the Qu‘ran and its significance today.

Ziauddin Sardar brings forth a certain facet of the Sacred Text again and again in different ways, and that is ‗the ―Word of God‖ is not beyond question; only through questioning the text can we tease out possible answers to our moral dilemmas. This is precisely why one of the most insistent commands in the Qu‘ran is to think and reflect‘. Sardar lays before the reader, perhaps here he targets primarily the non-Muslim reader, the structural beauty of the Qu‘ran, its lack of a strict chronology, and the importance of sound, or a ‗musical symphony‘. It is illuminating that the first word of the revelation was ‗Iqra‘ (‗Read‘), to which the Prophet replied ‗I cannot‘. But the Prophet repeated orally each revelation to his growing tribe of followers and recited it in prayers.

The innate beauty of the language enabled the community to memorise the sounds, and to this day, millions of devout Muslims commit the Qu‘ran to memory. The Qu‘ran was revealed in installments over 23 years from 610 to 632. For non-Muslims engaging with the text of the Qu‘ran, the changing voice is equally a concern. The speaker is God – but it confuses readers when the speaker changes from ‗I‘ to ‗We‘ to ‗He‘. Why? How? The author explains these apparent ‗aberrations‘ as also the fact that there is an internal logic to the Qu‘ran, a higher logic than the Aristotelian logic the West has propagated and that we are familiar, indeed comfortable, with.

As just another ordinary reader completely unfamiliar with the text of the Qu‘ran, I found it helpful that Sardar draws upon other scholars‘ views through their translations and interpretations. He has drawn upon the earliest translations, for instance, The Alcoran of 41

CONTEMPORARY LITERARY REVIEW INDIA – a journal that brings articulate writings for articulate readers.

July 2012

Book reviews Mahomet (Alexander Ross, 1649); The Koran: Commonly called the Alkoran of Mohammed (George Sale, 1734) to more recent ones like The Koran (N. J. Dawood, 1956) of which Sardar disapproves because he believes the translation ‗projects the Qu‘ran as a violent and sexist text‘ and The Holy Qu’ran: Translation and Commentary (Yusuf Ali, 1934-37). This engagement with various interpretations and translations makes the Sacred Text come alive to the needs of a changing world, a world woefully short of spiritual capital, a world fast losing its ethical moorings in the face of multi-hued adversities. That is the true power of the word of God. For this work, the author synthesizes a number of translations and picks the translation that has the ‗most lucid language, shorn of archaic form‘ to convey the sense of the verse under discussion. The author also does not adhere to the traditional method of interpreting the Qu‘ran verse by verse, and ‗atomise the Sacred Text‘. He examines the verses in the context of the whole, ‗questioning the interrelationship within and between the verses‘ and thus embarking on a ‗deeper understanding of the logic behind the structure of the text‘.

Part One: Overview provides the framework within which the remaining sections unfold as well as the historical backdrop of the revelation of the Book. Part Two: By Way of Tradition goes through the al-Fatiha and Al-Baqara. The opening sura, al-Fatiha, is known to Muslims as Umm al Kitab, ‗Mother of the Book‘. Al-Baqara is the longest chapter in the Holy Book and covers a wide range of subjects that Sardar takes up in separate chapters (for instance, Paradise, Children of Israel, Law of Equity, War and Peace, Arguing with God and more). It provides an overview of what the Qu‘ran means as a spiritual and practical guide to humankind. The author describes it as a seeker: ‗…to read each verse, each passage in relation to each other and in the context of the whole, to remember at each instant, with each word, that there is nothing in isolation and that everything that is being said is constantly referring to past, present and future.‘ The sura ends with a prayer that emphasizes human frailties – forgetfulness, erroneous judgement and unintentional error. The Holy Book promises hope – there is always hope of forgiveness and God‘s mercy and guidance.

In Part Three: Themes and Concepts, the author employs substantial dexterity of analysis and thought to present the teachings of the Holy Book in context, since the ‗multiple distinct contexts the Qu‘ran addresses‘ escape the average reader. Each verse, the author argues, must be read in its context – a verse cannot be divorced from its context, to grasp its meaning and true significance. Thereafter interpretation is a singularly individual effort and again, as a general reader, I found Sardar‘s interpretation most enlightening and enriching. The thirteen chapters in this section of the book range from Prophets and Revelation, Truth and Plurality, Reason and Knowledge to Reading and Writing. The ideas put forth are powerful and stir the intellect to 42

CONTEMPORARY LITERARY REVIEW INDIA – a journal that brings articulate writings for articulate readers.

July 2012

Book reviews reach further than it can see. In the chapter on ethics and morality, the author discusses human virtues of patience, humility and moderation – universal qualities that most of us were taught by our parents and that we have discarded as incongruous with a life of competitive materialistic appropriation and advancement. The ideas themselves are deceptively simple, but ‗reading‘ them with Sardar as it were, rejuvenates a fraying moral fabric and revives faith in simple things.

The most important concept in the Qu‘ran is tawheed, or the unity of God. ‗God according to the Qu‘ran is One and the absolute possessor of the universe.‘ The idea of tawheed extends to nature – there is Divine purpose in its creation. Thus the Qu‘ranic term for nature is ‗created order‘; all nature is a ‗sign‘ of God and thus, sacred.

Part Four: Contemporary Topics engages with subjects and views that are highly divisive and arouse passions around the world – homosexuality, the veil, suicide and the Shari‘a. So, is the veil sanctioned by the Qu‘ran? The author explains that the term associated with the veil is hijab meaning a curtain, screen or partition, and occurs eight times in the Sacred Text. The author further explains that in none of the verses is hijab used in quite the way as understood by modern societies around the world - the Middle East, Indian subcontinent or Arabia. In the Qu‘ran, the word is used as ‗raiment of righteousness‘ (as in the Yusuf Ali translation). Sardar elaborates: ‗This raiment of righteousness, counterposed to any actual garments one wears, is a moral condition, a state of mind and of being.‘ On suicide, assisted or otherwise, the author categorically states that ‗life is sacred; so it cannot be ranked. All life, whatever its quality, according to the Qu‘ran, is equally valid and valuable. …it is a journey that must reach its natural conclusion.‘ And this brings the reader face to face with the suicide bomber and his abhorrent act. Sardar is scathing in his criticism of ‗suicide bombing‘, and reaffirms that ‗the notion that the bomber is heading straight for paradise is perverse.‘

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CONTEMPORARY LITERARY REVIEW INDIA – a journal that brings articulate writings for articulate readers.

July 2012

Book reviews

Author’s Bio: Meenakshi Chawla is a Delhi-based writer.

Book Title: Reading the Qu‘ran: The Contemporary Relevance of the Sacred Text of Islam Author: Ziauddin Sardar Publisher: Hachette India 2011

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CONTEMPORARY LITERARY REVIEW INDIA – a journal that brings articulate writings for articulate readers.

July 2012

arts

15.

Flaming June by Lord Frederic Leighton

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CONTEMPORARY LITERARY REVIEW INDIA – a journal that brings articulate writings for articulate readers.

July 2012

Editor’s talk Contemporary Literary Review India (CLRI) is a rapidly growing literary journal and has become reckoning in a very short span of time. CLRI receives huge submission each month from writers belonging to a wide range of professions from around the world.

On one hand we strive to give space to as many writers as possible, on the other hand we regret that we‘re unable to include all submissions. Earlier selection to all submissions was about 90% which has gone down to about 70% to 60%, which however raises the quality of the journal in turn. Moreover, we still make all efforts to publish more and more writers.

CLRI has started some paid writing services such as book review writing, digital formatting, ads to promote writers, and recently we started a column on Featured Author that brings a writer to the light. These services have been started on the demand and requests of the writers who want their work to be known to a wider audience and hence sell their titles.

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CONTEMPORARY LITERARY REVIEW INDIA – a journal that brings articulate writings for articulate readers.