Reflection mag january 2015 by Reflection W&R Mag

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Contents Editorial 1 A Tribute To My City Shahid Khan 2 Boundless Bliss Aziza Hena 12 Pabuji Ki Phad Dr. Priyanka Mathur 13 The Seasons Of Life Heather Burns 24 Starlight Wisdom Chandrapal Khasiya 25 A Pitcher Neelam Dadhwal 39 Illustrator Who Makes Us Laugh 40 Breathing Inside Diwakar Pokhriyal 52 Summer Play Manish Sharma 53 A Fighter Kite Shahid Khan 55 Tips For Moving To The Middle East Raven Snow 57 How I Got Published Ruchi Chopra 62 Nurturing The Philippines' Cultural Heritage Elizabeth Esguerra Castillo

Your Reflection 70 A Non-Resident Indian Abhijit Narayan 71 Smile! As You Are In Lucknow Ruchi Chopra 73 Why Do I Write? 75 Under 15 Zone 79 Paintings On Cultural Heritage By Raj Verma 84 Guidelines 95 II

Advisory Board Chairman Mr. Brian E. Wrixon (Canada)

Members Ms. Elizabeth Esguerra Castillo (Philippines) Mr. Charles Darnell (San Antonio, Texas, USA) Mr. Sharique Jamal (India) Ms. Angie Blake (USA) Ms. Marilyn Reandino Ca単ete (Manila, Philippines)

Editorial Board Managing Editor

Iram Fatima 'Ashi' (Saudi Arabia, NRI)

Editor

Vasanthi Papu (India)

Associate Editors Dr. Ratan Bhattacharjee (India) Dr. Ruchida Barman (India) Dr. Indira Babbellapati (India)

Mr. Arnab Neogi (India)

Editor Art Section Raj Verma

Page layout

Team Reflection

Ms Jonali Karmakar (India) Dr. Sahab Uddin (India) Paintings Used On Front And Back Page are Made by Raj Verma

reflection18@ymail.com III

Dear Readers, Love to all! Firstly, I just want to thank for being our regular readers, poets, artists and writers on the completion of two creative years. This time we pick the topic ‘Culture Heritage’ to explore different cultures through our creative people all over the world and come up with an amazing treasure of poems, articles, paintings, an interview of famous Indian cartoonist Mr. Husain Zamin Zaid, to reflect their point of view and to inspire our readers. Each and every creation will amuse you, having different flavors from Philippines, US, India, Bangladesh etc, hope you people will enjoy every bit of it. My special thanks to Editor Ms Vasanthi Papu, intellectual Advisory members, co-operative Associate Editors, creative artist Mr. R. K. Verma, Mr Kumar Vikrant and his team members for fascinating illustrations. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year 2015 to all of you. May this New Year bring immense happiness, peace, joy in your life. Happy writing! Love and blessings,

Iram Fatima ‘Ashi’ (Managing Editor) Saudi Arabia (NRI)

A TRIBUTE TO MY CITY – AHMEDABAD Shahid Khan (Ahmedabad, India)

The city I was born in, my hometown, the city from where Mahatma Gandhi started the Indian Independence Movement and made it the center ofnationalist activities for freedom struggle.

Ahmedabad – the largest city of western Indian state of Gujarat is located on the banks of River Sabarmati. The city I was born in, my hometown, the city from where Mahatma Gandhi started the Indian Independence Movement and made it the center of nationalist activities for freedom struggle. It is the birthplace of the great Indian scientist Dr. Vikram Sarabhai – the father of India’s space programe. Ahmedabad is also known as ‘the City of Gates’. During the British rule, Ahmedabad was the home of a developing textile industry and therefore it earned a nickname "Manchester of the East".

On 26th February 2015, the city ofAhmedabad celebrates its 604th birthday. Sultan Zafar Shah’s son Ahmed Shah founded this city on 26th February 1411 A.D. The city ofAhmedabad has lots of fascinating historical facts which I think not many are aware of. So I would like to share some of these facts with my readers as a tribute to my beloved city on its 604th birthday.

How The City Got Its Name? Many believe that Ahmedabad was named after its founder Sultan Ahmed Shah, but this was not the only reason for naming the city as ‘Ahmedabad’. The actual reason was something different and very interesting too.

Sultan Ahmed Shah was one ofthe best rulers. During his reign the crime rate in the city was at its nadir. During his time only one murder took place that too was committed by the son-in-law ofAhmed Shah, who murdered somebody in a fit of arrogance when he was young. The Sultan got him arrested and sent him to the Kazi for trial. In order to avoid Sultan's displeasure, the Kazi ordered that the accused should give 22 gold coins to the successors ofthe dead as a punishment.

After Sultan Ahmed Shah ascended the throne, he went up to Bharuch in south Gujarat to curb the rebels. He camped at Ashaval while returning to Patan from South Gujarat. One day, on a hunting expedition along with his companions, he reached the farthest corner of the forest. Suddenly, a rabbit ambushed and frightened away the hound of Sultan. The Sultan was so much impressed by this act of bravery that he decided to make it as his capital. Before finalizing it, he sought permission of Prophet AL-Khijar through his preceptor Saint-Shaikh Ahmed Khattu Ganjbaksh of Sarkhej. The place was very mysterious and it could not be successfully established. So far no ruler succeeded in doing so. The place could not flourish unless certain conditions were fulfilled and if those conditions were met, the city would not only flourish and grow but it would survive till the Judgement Day.Those conditions were: (1) Four persons named ‘Ahmed’ must lay the foundation of the city. (2) Those four persons must be so punctual in offering Namaaz/Salaat (prayers) that since their adulthood, they must have never missed even one evening Namaaz. (3) The city must be named ‘Ahmedabad’. For this purpose, four persons, Sultan Ahmed Shah himself, Shaikh Ahmed Khattu Ganjbaksh, Kazi Ahmed and Malik Ahmed held the ends of the string from four directions. Thus, the construction of the Royal Palace started and the foundation of Ahmedabad was laid on 26th February 1411 A.D. Ahmedabad remained the capital of Gujarat for around 162 years till the Gujarat Sultanate stopped being an independent sultanate. In 1572 A.D, Mughal emperor Akbar captured the city and ended the rule of the Sultanate. Sultan Ahmed Shah was one of the best rulers. During his reign the crime rate in the city was at its nadir. During his time only one murder took place that too was committed by the son-in-law of Ahmed Shah, who murdered somebody in a fit of arrogance when he was young. The Sultan got him arrested and sent him to the Kazi for trial. In order to avoid Sultan's displeasure, the Kazi ordered that the accused should give 22 gold coins to the successors of the dead as a punishment. When the Sultan learned about it, he felt that any wealthy or influential person could take the undue benefit of such judgment. He considered the judgement unjust. Therefore, he reviewed the case of his son-in-law and sentenced him to death by hanging and asked the hangmen to keep the dead body hanging for twenty four hours, so that people could see the consequence 4

of killing someone and also know the impartiality of the Sultan. Such was the Sultan's love for justice. During the rule of Sultan Ahmed Shah when the construction ofBhadra fort was going on, a Sadhu named Baba Maneknath (who belonged to Aghori sect) who lived in a hut on the bank ofthe river Sabarmati used to create hurdles in the construction with his magical powers. He stitched a mattress during day time in parallel to the construction ofthe fort wall. When he removed the stitches in the night, the wall so far constructed would fall down. Thus, the construction ofthe fort could not be completed.

The Most Popular Legend During the rule of Sultan Ahmed Shah when the construction of Bhadra fort was going on, a Sadhu named Baba Maneknath (who belonged to Aghori sect) who lived in a hut on the bank of the river Sabarmati used to create hurdles in the construction with his magical powers. He stitched a mattress during day time in parallel to the construction of the fort wall. When he removed the stitches in the night, the wall so far constructed would fall down. Thus, the construction of the fort could not be completed. When the Sultan learned about Maneknath, he requested him to show other miracles. Maneknath told him that he was able to enter into a kettle like container and come out from the narrow pipe. When Maneknath entered into the container, the Sultan closed it from both the sides. Thus the Sultan tactfully kept Maneknath in captivity. Maneknath was made to realize his mistake. He then promised to the Sultan that he would not interfere with any construction work. The Sultan even named the first dome of Bhadra Fort as 'Manek Burj' after Maneknath. Consequently, Bhadra fort was built and the Ahmedabad city, Gujarat's commercial and financial center, was encompassed within the fort. Bhadra Fort once believed to have 12 darwajas (gates) but it actually has 21 darwajas. Each of the darwaja has beautiful carvings, calligraphy and some of them even balconies. These entrances to the city have a unique name. Pretty much the area surrounding these gates has adopted the name of darwaja as the name of the locality.

Historical Symbols (Landmarks) ofAhmedabad There are many places of cultural and historical importance in Ahmedabad. But some of them are like the identity ofAhmedabad. So I would a give a brief description of such places only.

Sidi Saiyyed Mosque

Such intricately carved stone Jaalis are not found anywhere in the entire world. This beautiful Jaali is the inspiration for the design ofthe logo ofthe Indian Institute ofManagement (IIM) Ahmedabad.

Sidi Saiyyed Mosque This is the unofficial symbol ofAhmedabad located at the heart of the old city. This elegant mosque was built by Sidi Saiyyed in 1573 A.D. The mosque is entirely arcuated and is renowned for beautifully carved ten stone latticework windows (jaalis) on the side and rear arches. The Jaalis have fine carvings in geometrical patterns with intertwined tree and foliage and a palm motif. Such intricately carved stone Jaalis are not found anywhere in the entire world. This beautiful Jaali is the inspiration for the design of the logo of the Indian Institute of Management (IIM) Ahmedabad. Every year on the festival of Eid-ul-Fitr, the entire mosque is decorated with beautiful lighting which attract lot of visitors. 6

Kankaria Lake Kankaria Lake is one of the most popular tourist destinations and picnic spot ofAhmedabad. A lakefront has been developed around it, which has many public attractions such as a zoo, toy train, children’s park, joy rides, food stalls, and entertainment facilities. The lakefront was revamped in 2008.

Kankaria Lake Kankaria Lake is one of the biggest man-made lakes in Ahmedabad. It was built by Sultan Kutubuddin in 15th century. The work was completed in 1451 A.D and was known as "Qutub Hauj" or "Hauj-e-Kutub". It was used for bathing by the kings and used to be opened to public for Wudu (ablution) for performing Salaat/ Namaaz on Eid. There is a big mosque (Eidgah) for performing special Eid Namaaz near Kankaria Lake. It had a water purification system but it has been lost with passage of time. At one point of the circular lake, there opens a walkway which later merges into a garden called ‘Nagina Wadi’ ( ‘Nagina’ is an Urdu word which means ‘Jewel’ and ‘Wadi’ is a Gujarati word meaning ‘Garden’) that is located in the centre of the lake. With an approximate circumference of 1.4 miles (2.3 km), it represents the regale history ofAhmedabad. It is a 34-sided polygon having steps leading down to water level. Kankaria Lake is one of the most popular tourist destinations and picnic spot ofAhmedabad. A lakefront has been developed around it, which has many public attractions such as a zoo, toy train, children’s park, joy rides, food stalls, and entertainment facilities. The lakefront was revamped in 2008. 7

Sarkhej Roza

The arrangement ofthe tombs, palaces and the mosques around the large tank gives a visitor a unique experience ofbeing in the lap ofa timeless entity. Like many monuments built during that period, the Sarkhej Roza fused both Muslim and Hindu principles ofarchitecture.

Saint Shaikh Ahmed Khattu ‘Ganjbaksh’, the preceptor of Sultan Ahmed Shah belonged to Sarkhej. He was a renowned saint of his time. Thousands of visitors –Hindus and Muslims, rich and poor, government officials and merchants – all types of people thronged in his place daily. He maintained an open kitchen and fed hundreds of people everyday. The annual expenditure of his kitchen was 1,25,000 Tankas. Due to this generous nature he became famous as ‘Ganjbaksh’ i.e. bestower of treasures. When he passed away, Sultan Muhammad Shah started building his Roza in 1446 A.D and Sultan Qutbuddin completed it in 1451 A.D. The mosque was also built during that time. Sultan Muhammad Begda liked this place very much. He made his mausoleum just opposite to Ahmed Khattu’s Roza and had constructed a lake beside it. He built palaces for self and his family on the south east of the lake. The pillars of those palaces still exist. Saint Ahmed Khattu’s Roza is considered the biggest Roza in Gujarat. The brass engraving of the Roza is worth seeing. There is an open pavilion with 16 pillars in Hindu style just opposite to the Roza. The arrangement of the tombs, palaces and the mosques around the large tank gives a visitor a unique experience of being in the lap of a timeless entity. Like many monuments built during that period, the Sarkhej Roza fused both Muslim and Hindu principles of architecture. There is an inscription on the main Roja which states: “The whole world respects this saint”. The Sarkhej Roza complex has been interpreted as being composed of both 'jism'(body) and 'ruh'(spirit), giving it the qualities of a human being. The world famous architect Le Corbusier compared Sarkhej Roja complex to the Acropolis.

Sarkhej Roza

Teen Darwaja (The Three Gates) On the east and west of the middle gate there are small recesses with carvings and also small towers with carvings as we find them in the mosque. There is a terrace over it. On both the sides, there are three balconies.

Teen Darwaja (The Three Gates) The Three Gates is a royal entrance to the city, popularly known as â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;Teen Darwajaâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;. It is the largest of all the popular gates that Ahmedabad has. Its middle arch is 17.5 feet wide, even a public transport bus can easily pass through it. Arches on both the sides are 13 feet wide. Its height is 25 feet. There are small arches through which one can go from one gate to the other. On the east and west of the middle gate there are small recesses with carvings and also small towers with carvings as we find them in the mosque. There is a terrace over it. On both the sides, there are three balconies. There was a roof over the gates, which were then taken out in 1877 A.D. At present, the terrace is open. It is located at the heart of the city and the area surrounding it is the most crowded place where people throng for shopping. 9

Jhulta Minar (Shaking Minarets)

Despite its ability to sway, this mosque perfectly withstands the pressure of trains passing through at one ofthe city’s main railway stations nearby. It also proved resistant to the 2001 earthquake, which shook the district ofGujarat with a 7.67.7 rating on the Richter scale. Entry to the shaking minaret was prohibited following an incident at Qutub Minar in Delhi, where a stampede resulted in many children being crushed.

In the Sarangpur area ofAhmedabad the Sidi Bashir Mosque is situated. Due to its unique construction it is popularly known as ‘Jhulta Minar’ or ‘Shaking Minarets’. It is believed that the mosque was constructed by Sidi Bashir, a slave of Sultan Ahmed Shah. A conflicting story is that the mosque was built by Malik Sarang, a noble in the court of Muhammed Begada, another Sultan of Gujarat. In either case the mosque was completed in 1452 A.D. There are two minarets in the mosque, each of which is three stories tall with carved balconies. The special thing about this mosque is that a gentle shaking of either minaret results in the other minaret swaying for a few seconds, though the connecting passage between them remains free of vibration. The actual cause of this is not yet known. This phenomenon was first observed in the 19th century by Monsier M. Williams, an English-Sanskrit scholar. In the quest of getting to the bottom of this phenomenon, another Englishman even tried to demolish one of the minarets. But all his efforts were in vain; there is still a certain mystery surrounding why and how the minarets sway back and forth. Despite its ability to sway, this mosque perfectly withstands the pressure of trains passing through at one of the city’s main railway stations nearby. It also proved resistant to the 2001 earthquake, which shook the district of Gujarat with a 7.6-7.7 rating on the Richter scale. Entry to the shaking minaret was prohibited following an incident at Qutub Minar in Delhi, where a stampede resulted in many children being crushed. I feel really proud to be living in proximity of such beautiful buildings of cultural and historical importance. I have grown-up learning about the history and culture ofAhmedabad from my granny who used to share all such interesting facts. It is due to her that I learned to appreciate the cultural heritage of my city and the history behind it.

Sources/Reference:

1) www.welcometoahmedabad.com 2) www.wikipedia.org 3) www.sakhejroza.org 4) Images used are from google images and wikipedia. The copyright of all the images used lie with the original owner/photographer.

Boundless Bliss

Aziza Hena (Dhaka, Bangladesh) Closed eyes are spurred to open up. First light of Sun awaits to make first friendship of the day; Orange company in blazing ray. Woodland cuddles with sweet shadow like a mother’s warm lap. Birds tune out melody for our ears, Free of charge. Heart places flowers in deep corners transcending fragrance at smelling zones. Colors in wings of butterflylife leave dream; Known, Unknown. Every foot step draws love out of open bosom of sandy seashore or polar edge. Warden alike mountains echo in between and upon earth plate. Blue water spaces, pretty drizzling drops quench the thirsty soul, splash mind; little waves under feet toy like a dole.

Silver glow in black canopy tell Countless tales in bedtime darkness. Shining stars brighten fests being counted by tender age.

Pabuji Ki Phad

(The Role of Women in Folk Narrative of Rajasthan) Dr. Priyanka Mathur (Jaipur, India)

Women’s contribution is significant in the origin and the development of folk culture. Folk narratives provide a pavement to study and interpret the role of women in shaping cultural patterns in little communities. Usually, the roles of rural women in Rajasthan has remained unrecognized from historic times and their voices are seldom perceptible. If ever heard, it is only in folk songs & narratives. Although Folk epics are rarely found in tribal societies, the case of Nayak Bhill in Rajasthan is an exception. The epic ofPabuji is a popular narrative in Thar Desert. While singing the epic, the principal reciter-the Bhopi-- sheds light on the tribal perspective on the material aspects oflife and the socio-religious perception ofwomen.

The epic narrative of Pabuji ki Phad is an exclusive tradition found only in Nayak Bhill tribe of Rajasthan. In this Epic, the principal singer is a woman and the whole epic is woven around the heroic deeds of the folk hero, Pabuji, an incarnation of God Laxmana from the Ramayan. The epic of Pabuji is a popular narrative in Thar Desert. While singing the epic, the principal reciter--the Bhopi-sheds light on the tribal perspective on the material aspects of life and the socio-religious perception of women. The performers of the epic are semi nomadic and may be found across the vast expanse of the Thar Desert. The Nayak Adivasis are found in the eastern region of Rajasthan, categorized on the basis of their commitment to the divine ancestral heritage of Pabuji’s Phad. They proudly enunciate themselves as the Bhopa Community. Men and women engaged in musical tradition define themselves as ‘Bhopa’ and ‘Bhopi’. This gives them a high social status within the

Patashi Devi Bhopi in Pabusar

community while marking their devotion and pledge to Pabuji. In this way, they differentiate themselves from the other much larger group of adivasi Bhils who live in remote forest and other regions of India surviving on traditional hunting, farming or pastoral livelihoods. Before independence, this musician community used to take migratory routes across the vast expanse of Thar Desert patronized by their feudal lords called Thakurs. Bhopa communities also perform for other castes including camel rearing Raika community, but do not perform for Meghwal and Chamar as they adhere to animal killing and flesh eating. Deity Pabuji was an animal savior. Sansi or kalbelia community is akin to bhopa community, engaged in dancing tradition rather than singing. Bhopa community was nomadic in prehistoric times, which took seasonal migratory routes, but in later period, specifically after Indiaâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s independence, due to decline of princely states they adhered themselves to semi nomadic lifestyle. Some feudal lords donated them small pieces of land where they setup scattered hamlets called Dhani. Each Bhopa community confined themselves to the regency of ten nearby villages which are often found on the edges of town. The Bhopa community performs for those patrons, who invite them within the boundary of predefined territory. Bhopas still move within the territorial limits and entertain their patrons. The case of breach of territorial protocol has never been found.

Deity Pabuji was an animal savior. Sansi or kalbelia community is akin to bhopa community, engaged in dancing tradition rather than singing. Bhopa community was nomadic in prehistoric times, which took seasonal migratory routes, but in later period, specifically after Indiaâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s independence, due to decline ofprincely states they adhered themselves to semi nomadic lifestyle.

Between the age of 10-14, a young girl or bhopi is pledged in

Hari Ram Bhopa in Jaisalmer 14

marriage to a young boy or bhopa. At this point, both bhopi and bhopa enter into life partnership and gradually as performers. At the age when bhopa or bhopi or both became well versed in one or more than one episode of the epic , ‘empowered by the blessing of Pabuji’, as they describe it, they begin to entertain audiences. Once the bhopi is able to sing the epic solely in dramatic high pitch and volume, the bhopa-bhopi couple become ‘earners of their own bread’, automatically graduating to an enhanced social status within the community. The Phad and Rawanhatta are essential elements in the performance as it embodies the ancestral tradition of bhopa community and portrays the alluring deeds of the divine hero

Pabuji’s ‘phad’

The men are formally indoctrinated in epic recitation as boys, but women are only allowed to sing after beginning to live with their husbands although a bhopi is a principal singer and a bhopa only initiates the epic. Mostly, bhopas learn to play the epic on the rawanhatta from his father and bhopis learn the musical notes of the most commonly known episodes of the epic from her mother-in-law since childhood. This epic-learning process is a part of socialization in the bhopa community. The actual origin of the lyrical singing of this vernacular epic is unknown but it was first recorded in 11th century. The Phad and Rawanhatta are essential elements in the performance as it embodies the ancestral tradition of bhopa community and portrays the alluring deeds of the divine hero. In the Pabuji’s epic performance, the ‘ Phad’ is a red painted scroll with a complex schematic pictorial showing multiple episodes of the charismatic actions of Pabuji described in the epic depicted along a series of horizontal planes. Although one may find various version of phad having different schematic arrangements of events but in each case the picture of Pabuji is always located at the centre. Bhilwara’s Josh i caste patronize in printing and designing the traditional phad. In principle, each phad comprises 100 different scenes or clusters, displayed in synoptic rather than chronological order, stretching along four to five meters of cloth in length and one and a half meters in width.

I found that there are two popular performance styles: Touristic and Ritual performance. Broadly speaking, a touristic performance is an amalgamation of traditional and modern fashion trends performed at auditoriums or opera to get tourist attention. Contrary to this, a ritual performance is a pure traditional style, performed at local temples of Pabuji or at the central location of village, to invoke the blessings of Pabuji. In touristic performance episodes can be recited at any time and place, according to the choice and pleasure of the audience as the performance and satisfaction of audience are unified to cash based trade. In contrast to the above, the ritual performance is usually occasional i.e. excluding the 11th day of lunar calendar. The main purpose of epic narration is not only entertainment or gratitude to divine hero but also for celestial healing of ailing animals, prosperity and purity of house by emitting evil forces. The tradition of â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;picture showmenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; or wandering bards (mankha; magadha) who made their livelihood by telling religious and moral tales using a picture board, was first recorded in India from the 11th century and subsequently, an artisanal caste of itinerant story tellerscum-teachers emerged who said that it was their vocation to narrate mythical stories using a pictorial guide. In Pabuji ki phad the distinctive picture of Pabuji is the central focal point of the scroll, flanked on the right by his courtiers and below by the prominent prancing mare, his re-incarnated mother, Kesar Kalmi. Out of four different performances I observed in Jaipur, Papusar, Jaisalmer and Jodhpur, bhopi Patasi devi from Pabusar indicated various episodes via a lamp while epic narration to connect audience, which is an essential pattern of story telling in phad tradition.

The main purpose ofepic narration is not only entertainment or gratitude to divine hero but also for celestial healing ofailing animals, prosperity and purity of house by emitting evil forces.

Statues in Pabujiâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s temple,

This concept may also be at the root ofreverence for the pictorial narrative in Pabuji in Rajasthan and veneration ofthe phad.

This mode of story-telling from pictorial aids is deeply embedded in South Asian art and story-telling and may have been derived from pre-Buddhist pictorial narrative traditions. The Bhilalas tribe (West Andhra Pradesh) paint mythical symbols and characters on the outer walls of their houses. The other version is that, they invoke some of the characters of the painted myth to descend into the wall and reside there while the paintings last and shower blessing for health, happiness and prosperity. This concept may also be at the root of reverence for the pictorial narrative in Pabuji in Rajasthan and veneration of the phad. As the offertory hymn sung by Bhopa reveals, the hero is entreated to â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;come down from his palanquin and receive arti, and implicitly, to reside there, in his image, shower blessingsâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; during the performance. His representation is incorporated on the two dimensional phad. As a result, the bhopa and bhopi should not stand with their backs to the phad and the bhopi is required in ritual performance to veil their face in deference to the presence of the Rajput hero, Pabuji, in the phad.

Bhimbetka rider

The people who listen to these stories and view images of their local deities depicted on scrolls, state that they get the benefit of Darshan, that is, the spiritual feeling of the presence of divine deity while looking at the image physically at the same time, unifying with it. Gogaji, the Snake God, is another popular deity embraced by a huge number of devotees all across Thar Desert. In Pabuji’s epic a big section of the episodes are devoted to Gogaji’s divine deeds and his strong commitment to Pabuji. Devotees extol both the deities equally.

Gogaji, the Snake God, is another popular deity embraced by a huge number ofdevotees all across Thar Desert. In Pabuji’s epic a big section ofthe episodes In Bhopa community the performers of the epic i.e. Bhopa and bhopi, are devoted to Gogaji’s wear silver medals of Pabuji astride his horse, as insignia of their divine deeds and his strong devotion to him. Wearing Pabuji’s bage is pre-eminent symbolizing of commitment to Pabuji. their ancestral heritage. Devotees extol both the deities equally. In the traditional context, a performance of the phad takes place when a patron wishes to invoke the blessings of Pabuji to heal his animals, help in bringing the rain or making brackish water sweet. A symbolic offering of food, known as Akha, either a handful of bajra or pearl millet and gur (jaggery), or the ritual offering of 51 rupees, is the token by which the bhopa couple is invited to perform the epic of Pabuji. The bhopa couple act as intermediaries and catalysts in the process of incarnating Pabuji’s presence for the purposes of healing by erecting the phad, his mobile temple, and thus invoking his Other symbols central to the spiritual presence by doing puja and accomplishing other required phad are also replicated in rituals before the performance takes place. The process of readivasi wall paintings in corporeality of the deity begins with the token offering of food as Sawai Madopur area of puja to Pabuji via his devotee, the bhopa. This offering must be made Rajasthan bordering the on the 11th day of the lunar calendar, a day ‘Pabuji does not fast’, and Chambal valley

admits offerings. Food or Prasad is made sacred by the gods and then eaten by the devotees. In the symbolic realm of Pabuji ki phad, the tangible offering of food would seem to highlight both his corporeality in death and the influential role he is believed to play in ensuring the sustainability of human and animal livelihood in the Thar desert. The arthi is sung to a slow but rhythmic pulse by the bhopa to invoke Pabuji to come to the performance of phad from his palanquin

After waving a flame in front of the phad and performing other acts of devotion, the bhopa begins the performance with the ‘offertory hymn’ known as arthi. The arthi is sung to a slow but rhythmic pulse by the bhopa to invoke Pabuji to come to the performance of phad from his palanquin. This hymn also sends a message of advocacy. This epic enshrines the voice of the poor and their critique is cloaked in metaphor. The epic singing is comprised of two distinct modes Gav and Arthav. In the performance the bulk of the singing is done by the bhopi. Known as gav, this is the longest and most exciting part of the epic performance. It is sung exclusively by the bhopi, accompanied by the bhopa (her husband) on his ravanhatta. The bhopi does not simply ‘hold the lamp in front of the screen’, she also illuminates the scene which is being narrated in the phad recitation. Singing at increasingly high volume and pitch after a musical prompt and introductory phrase from the bhopa, the bhopi dramatizes and galvanizes the performance with emotional warmth through her vocal power and skill. Equestrian Pabuji, Koriya

Arthhav is the second mode of performance, a narrative mode, spoken not sung, in a high pitched recitative by the bhopa alone. He describes

the anticipating sequence of events simultaneously pointing to images and characters on the scroll with the tip of his instrument. To punctuate his narrative, and to excite the listener’s attention, he often adds a series of musical flourishes on his ravanhatta. Some devotees among the audience, called Haukariyaa, follow the narrative with a loud voice to confirm to the bhopa-bhopi that they are connected with the melodrama. Whereas gav acts as an embodiment in song of the elaborate conflicts and encounters between principal characters over moral issues in the epic, the sequential narrative section or arthhav is purely descriptive and acts as an interlude and moment of reflection between the more emotionally charged episodes of the epic. The performances are comprised of parvaros or ‘episodes of miraculous events’. The episode of ‘ Wedding ofGogaji’ is first. I found that this parvaro is the most famous and cheered among all devotees, especially women. It is observed that the selection of parvaro is based on audience choice, but in all cases initial parvaro is always coupled with Pabuji’s Arti. Contrastingly, Gogaji’s wedding would seem to have been given less prominence in historical documents. The demand for this episode is expected to be a modern day revamp in Rajasthan.

Some devotees among the audience, called Haukariyaa, follow the narrative with a loud voice to confirm to the bhopabhopi that they are connected with the melodrama.

The equestrian Pabuji flanked by ‘the tree oflife‘ and a peacock,

Stylised tree oflife, Sawai Madhopur

Facing peacocks around stylised ‘tree oflife’ in Sawai Madhopur

The major portion of the epic or gav sung by the bhopi articulates the concerns of women who listen to and patronize the epic while arthhav, the chant performed by the bhopa, chronicles events of the epic in a more emotionally neutral ‘past tense’, as he stands in front of the sacred phad. The bhopa and bhopi perform distinct, gender-specific roles. They never sing together. Either one or the other sings. The bhopa performs the necessary devotional rituals before the performance, and sings the arth i. He is also the instrumentalist who provides the melodic and rhythmic accompaniment to the bhopi but it is she who sings the episodes with full coloratura and emotional inflection. In modern performance the bhopi’s focus in on many of the current problems of daily life revolving around family relationships and alliances while eulogizing Pabuji as a divine patron and the source of empowerment, viz, the stress the torment women feel when dowries promised are not paid; the sadness they endure; how men continue to agree impracticable dowries they can never pay to secure marriage contracts; how people may agree to take on work in honour of their feudal patron- the thakur, but feel exploited because they are not properly paid or treated with respect; how mothers-in-law make snide remarks and accuse their daughters of unseemly behaviour, often without cause, and so on. The phad also portrays a myriad of social interactions but is emotionally and dramatically neutral.

In modern performance the bhopi’s focus in on many of the current problems of daily life revolving around family relationships and alliances while eulogizing Pabuji as a divine patron and the source of empowerment, viz, the stress the torment women feel when dowries promised are not paid; the sadness they endure; how men continue to agree impracticable dowries they can never pay to secure marriage contracts; how people may agree to take on work in honour oftheir feudal patron- the thakur, but feel exploited because they are not properly paid or treated with respect; how mothers-in-law make snide remarks and accuse their daughters ofunseemly behaviour, often without cause, and so on

Detail ofPabuji with peacock and hand prints, Koriya temple 22

Many bhopa/bhopi families have expanded their income base from ritual performances to tourist venues over the years and this may have acted as an incentive to develop new melodic compositions.

The epic comprises oral compositions concocted from a matrix ofelements, ritual acts and dramatic crises, set in grand and glorious contexts reminiscent ofthe glories ofmedieval chivalry and warfare and landscapes in which women, adorned with extravagant and valuable jewels appear bearing plates cascading with pearls

The tribes of Rajasthan are adapting themselves more and more to tourism as the main source of employment but what is clear is that over the decades, while performers of the highest calibre have succeeded in raising their standard of living and wealth quotient by entering new domains of performance, others may have fallen to the wayside and drifted instead into the unskilled labour market. The epic comprises oral compositions concocted from a matrix of elements, ritual acts and dramatic crises, set in grand and glorious contexts reminiscent of the glories of medieval chivalry and warfare and landscapes in which women, adorned with extravagant and valuable jewels appear bearing plates cascading with pearls. From these performances, it can be argued that within the frame of this six century old historical context, the contemporary story revolves around local deities who intervene and contrive to help Adivasi communities rise above caste constraints and discriminative practices that affect them.

Dr. Priyanka Mathur (Jaipur, India)

Tower shrines on a ship

The Seasons Of Life Heather Burns (U.S.A)

A weaver sits among the beautiful threads weaving a glorious tapestry. The brilliant colors reflect the seasons oflife.

Then Autumn turns leaves to many shades ofgold and cascade to the ground Leaving painted pictures lying around. Looking at life differently knowledge obtainable.

Spring offers many hues ofgreen ever so soothing when hearts are young happy and care free having a promise for tomorrow, Still young enough to believe dreams will come true.

Finally the majestic days ofwinter, silver threads carefully enterwoven in retrospect the green red, gold, and silver threads have created the wonderful seasons oflife.

Oh those days ofsummer with wonderful hot red thinking we have found our hearts delight enjoying the heat of the season passion abounding.

Starlight Wisdom Chandrapal Khasiya (India) To be born in my clan means to abandon all your dreams. At the age ofplaying with toys, swords were thrust in our hands. We were beaten to pulp, thrown in the wild; prepared for just for one purpose, to obliterate Rajgadh, stone by stone. It’s been twenty years, twenty bloody years offight to reclaim what is ours. But the struggle only had cost lives ofmy dear ones. Our enemy is mighty. We are outnumbered and outmatched. My people have started losing the hope to see their land again and accepted the refuge in the jungle. But I cannot. This wilderness is not our home. I must fight. I must bring peace. But, this war cannot be won by weapons. I need something more powerful than weapons. I need words. 1

Rain lashed against their bare torso, prickling like needles. Loincloth wrapped around their waists failed in shielding them from bitter coldness. “Why do I always support you?” Gaurav chided, embracing himself. “And get myself into trouble too.” Kashyap regarded his friend’s fury. It was obvious. The entire mistake was his. Quills and scrolls were not considered as warrior’s tools, especially not for a Yudhvan warrior. His obsession had already earned him a ‘misfit’ title in his clan. “Sorry,” he said, spitting the rivulets of rain that filled his mouth. Gaurav nodded his head, shivering. “It’s all right. At least you are not alone up here in the watch tower. Now I understand why they didn’t keep roof here.” A thunder groaned above and wind picked its speed. “These towers are made to punish people like us. This night is going to be very long.” Kashyap peered down at his village. Situated in the large clearing ofVasat forest, Yudhvan was a cluster of hundred huts, arranged haphazardly.

“Can I ask you something?” Gaurav shouted. The wind and the rain almost defied his voice. Kashyap nodded. “Why do you write?” A long moment of silence stretched save for the rumblings and groaning of thunderstorm. “I write for the peace of my mind.”

Behind the shifting shadows, among the stars, you’ll find your place. Your brilliance will be adored by 2 the universe. Remember, Young Yesha, the princess of Rajgadh flipped the last page of the the star that shines brightly book, laying restless in her cosy bed. Writings were barely readable in now was once dull. the feeble torch lights. But the story was too engaging to leave, almost Everything comes at a time. making her forgot the grief of the loss of his father. She continued to All you need is to wait. read. Patience and persistence, that’s what seeds wisdom.

Behind the shifting shadows, among the stars, you’ll find your place. Your brilliance will be adored by the universe. Remember, the star that shines brightly now was once dull. Everything comes at a time. All you need is to wait. Patience and persistence, that’s what seeds wisdom. “You must sleep, my lady.” A woman’s voice distracted Yesha’s attention from the book. “Tomorrow is a big day for you.” Yesha closed the book and stared at the wide balconies of her majestic chamber. Silk curtains swayed vigorously, revealing the downpour.“Did they find the writer of this book?”

The maiden shook her head. “Is that Starlight Wisdom, my lady?” “Yes, and the writer’s name is not mentioned,” Yesha noted. “I want to meet him.” “Him?” The maiden asked, snuffing one of the torch. “How can you be sure that the writer is a man? I understand your curiosity. Our people have never read something as wonderful as this. It’s a masterpiece! Even I am as anxious as you are. Still my question remains the same, my lady. Why him? ” “I don’t know,” the princess admitted. “Something tells me from the words and the way of narration that the writer is a man. What the press people are saying about him? They should know the writer.” “I’m afraid to say, but they too are ignorant about the writer,” answered the maiden. “They found the manuscript at their doorsteps. They loved it and they published it.” Yesha then gestured at her maiden and dug herself into the warmth of her woollen blanket. The maiden dowsed the last torch and the room darkened. Tomorrow, I am going to be an empress.

With breaking of the dawn, the clouds parted, allowing the sun to bless the world with its warmth and light. “Do you think it’s our scheme?” Gaurav asked, rubbing his hands. Their time of punishment had finally elapsed and they were signalled to descend the tower. Wrapped with shawls, both friends squatted near bonfire. To kill the rising cold within them, Kashyap’s mother had provided a kittle of tea. The presence of herbs was evident in the steam. Kashyap snickered. “You mean about the death of the king? I thought it was natural.” He sipped a mouthful of tea from his saucer. The hot liquid slipped into his throat, burning away the coldness. “May be it was natural,” Gaurav said. “But what if it was not? What if it was a plotted murder? Their first suspect would be us, Kashyap. And they won’t stop at any rate to kill the last one of us.”

Kashyap stared at his friend. “You think too much, Gaurav. I don’t think our leaders have done it. It’s a cowardice act. And back-stabbing is not a virtue of any Yudhvan. We fight for what is rightly ours.” “And what we have gained till now?” Gaurav tossed a stick in the fire; sparks flickered. “Deaths. More deaths.” He gritted his teeth. “We can’t win this war by weapons, Kashyap. We have limited resources while Rajgadh has legions of soldiers. They can erase our existence at any moment they wish. Peace have prevailed for last five years because of the treaty was signed between us and them. Now with the death of the king, the treaty has ended. And that worries me.” Kashyap’s eye caught the attention of an approaching wagon at the far end of woods. The merchant had arrived. Women, children, men – everyone swarmed around the merchant.Vasat forest had indeed blessed Yudhvan people with food and shelter, but spices and wool were absent there. The merchant trade was an advantage of the peace treaty. Kashyap and Gaurav waited till everyone filled their caskets as per their needs. When wagon was emptied, Kashyap neared the old merchant. “Is anything left for us?” The kind faced man looked at the young warriors. He smiled. “Ah, there is something very special for you, Kashyap. This item will surely interest you.” From the folds of his weathered robe, he produced a book and offered it to the young man. “This is a masterpiece by an unknown. Keep it as a gift. I don’t understand why the people ofVasat don’t read.”

The kind faced man looked at the young warriors. He smiled. “Ah, there is something very special for you, Kashyap. This item will surely interest you.” From the folds ofhis weathered robe, he produced a book and offered it to the young man. “This is a masterpiece by an unknown. Keep it as a gift. I don’t understand why the people ofVasat don’t read.”

Kashyap read the title of the book. Shock stabbed his heart. “Starlight Wisdom?”

“Believe me boy, people are dying to know who wrote this brilliant piece of literature.” He skimmed random pages of the book in haste. This cannot be possible, he thought. Without saying anything, Kashyap dashed to his hut, followed by Gaurav. “What happened?” Kashyap halted and spun. Confusion and surprise battled to express his feelings. “I am the writer of Starlight Wisdom!” “That’s good,” Gaurav cheered. “No, that’s not good. I didn’t gave it to any press. Someone has stolen my work!”

Princess Yesha, now enthroned as an Empress Yesha, loitered leisurely in the long corridor of her palace. Her head ached by remembering all the names of her advisors and their duties. She could barely remember few of them, and one of them was accompanying her. Her first order as an empress was to award the writer of Starlight Wisdom with whatever he desires, if he ever show up. Many functionaries took this decision as a naïve approach. “There are truths and secrets only few of the powerful people of the kingdom should know,” told the noble advisor. “And I think as an empress you have every right to know them, all of them.” “My ears are all yours,” Yesha said, adjusting the golden circlet on her head. The advisor checked the corridor. Save for the royal guards there was no one. He whispered. “Your father death is not natural. He was poisoned.”

Yesha felt a stab of shock. Her legs buckled and the golden circlet almost slipped from her head. “But…I was told…” “Chaos would have broken out if the news of king’s murder had leaked out,” the advisor admitted. “For measures, my empress, we suppressed the truth.” “And…who have killed him?” Yesha said, barely quashingher fury. “It’s an act ofYudhvan, my empress,” the advisor divulged. “And we have firm evidence for it.” 5

Kashyap kept looking at the Starlight Wisdom. He felt hollow from inside as if someone had robbed his dream off and left him purposeless. Certainly, someone did that.Everyone in Yudhvan knew about his writing, and no one took any interest in it. For the people of Yudhvan, weapons were basic need just like food and water, and their lives’ aim was one – to reclaim their land. Then who would have done it?

For the people ofYudhvan, weapons were basic need just like food and water, and their lives’ aim was one – to reclaim their land. Then who would have done it?

“Are you feeling good?” Gaurav asked, concerned. “I don’t know. I don’t understand.” “People are liking your work, Kashyap.” Gaurav tried to rise his friend’s spirit. “They wants to know who wrote it. They wants to know you.”

“And that is not what I wanted!” Kashyap yelled. “I write for myself. Not for the world.” Dumbstruck, Gaurav tried to read his friend’s face. “What do you mean?” “This book is my dream.” Kashyap turned a page, his eyes solemn and blank. “Every word, Gaurav, in each syllable I’ve poured my soul.My only goal was to complete it.” “Wait, you mean Starlight Wisdom is unfinished?” Gaurav asked, surprised. Kashyap nodded. “It’s only half written.” A peal of horn blared from the distant, followed by the thumping of drums. Alerted, both friends rose on their feet. They exchanged a nervous look. They knew what it meant. A spy ofYudhvan had arrived from Rajgadh to deliver the updates of the royal affairs. Kashyap and Gaurav shoved their way to hear what news was brought. People crowded the leaders and the spy. Everyone were curious to know. “Chief,” the spy said. “Empress now holds the command of Rajgadh.” “We must offer our condolences for her loss,” the muscular chief expressed. “The peace treaty must remain intact. What more?” “She announced to honour the writer of some book with abundance,” the spy said. Gaurav elbowed Kashyap. “Told you. Now empress is too impressed.” Kashyap found that thought disturbing. He focused in the conversation between the chief and the spy. “There is something more,” the chief said, “isn’t it?” Fear masked the spy’s face. He gulped down the knot that was forming in his throat. “She gave another order.”

“And what’s that?” probed the chief. “To eliminate us, chief. War is coming!” 6

“My lady,” said the maiden, filling the cup of the tea. “Can I ask you something?" “Minera, you don’t need my permission to speak.” Yesha took a sip. “Besides my maiden, you are my curator too.” The aged woman sighed. “Do you deem it wise to eradicateYudhvan will bring peace to your mind?” Empress’s hand froze, her grip tightened on the cup. “They had killed my father.” “I know, my lady,” Minera admitted. “You already shared this secret with me. And you are about to kill many fathers. War is not an answer.” Yesha sneered, banging the cup on the table. “My father tried to prevail the peace, what did he get? Back stabbing.”

"Do not forget, my lady, it was your grandfather who drew them away from their lands.” Minera took a cloth and started scrubbing the spilled tea. “All I need, my lady, that you do not suffer the madness ofpower. I request you to reconsider your thought. Or else the ground will be watered with the blood of innocent."

“Do not forget, my lady, it was your grandfather who drew them away from their lands.” Minera took a cloth and started scrubbing the spilled tea. “All I need, my lady, that you do not suffer the madness of power. I request you to reconsider your thought. Or else the ground will be watered with the blood of innocent.”

Distraught, confused, Yesha picked up the Starlight Wisdom, hoping to find concord in its pages.

“I can stop this war,” Kashyap told Gaurav. The village was getting prepared for the assault. Men armoured with leathers were sharpening their swords. Women engaged themselves in harnessing the horses. They all had prepared for this day. To fight for their land. But instead of courage, Kashyap read fear in their eyes. Even the chief looked scared, though he acted confident.“I can save us.” “How?” Gaurav asked, picking up his spear. “Come here.” Kashyap whispered his plan in Gaurav’s ears. The hair on Gaurav’s neck stood up. “No! No, this is foolishness! I can’t you allow to do this.” Kashyap kept his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “This is the only way to avoid war, Gaurav. Only way to bring the peace.” “And what if your fail?” “That’s the risk I must take. Either way, we are going to perish.” Gaurav opened his mouth to say something, but could not put his expressions into words. He tried. “Then my friend, you are not going alone.”

Infantries of Rajgadh streamed through the city streets, pounding the ground with their steel boots; their mailed armours clanking. Empress Yesha looked down at them from her balcony. “Did I made a mistake?” “No, my empress,” said the advisor. “Your father should’ve taken this decision before.It’s pity that I failed to convince him. Yudhvan is a parasite that needs abolition.”

“I don’t know why,” the queen of Rajgadh confessed, “but it feels wrong. A decision taken in haste is always conflicted.” She surprised at her own words. She actually quoted a phrase from the Starlight Wisdom. “Retreat our army. We are not going for a war.” The advisor’s face tightened. “My empress, you cannot change your mind.” “Yes, I can. I am the empress of Rajgadh.” A servant appeared from the door and bowed in servitude. “My lady, two men wish your audience.” “Not now,” Yesha irately waved him to leave. “I’ve more important things to handle.” “But my lady, one of them claims to be the writer of the Starlight Wisdom.”

“I told you this is suicide,” Gaurav muttered as several guards pointed their swords at their neck. “We could’ve fight and slayed some of them. We could’ve died gloriously.” “Shut up!” Kashyap snapped. “This is some kind of misunderstanding.”

“Misunderstanding?” One of the soldiers mocked. “You’ve invited your death by crossing our threshold, you scum. How dare you enter our city?” “Leave them alone,” Empress thundered, entering the throne hall. “Guests are to be honoured, not threatened.” Kashyap sighed in relief as the guards sheathed back their swords. Time eased and he took a look at the empress for the first time. Her angelic faced glowed with nobleness, her almond shaped eyes sparkled with curiosity. The golden circlet over her flowing hair added more splendour. She was, indeed, the perfect suitor of the throne. “Kashyap,” Gaurav whispered. “Yes.” “You are gawking at her.” Realising his mistake, Kashyap drew his gaze on the ground. “I apologise, my lady.” “So you are the writer?” Yesha asked. “How I can trust you with that?” From the moment they had sneaked out from Vasat forest, Kashyap had been thinking the same. How would he prove his authenticity? It had been difficult, but somehow he sorted the problem out in a day’s journey. “You can either believe my words or you’ll have my life. Choices are yours, my lady.” He said with utter confidence. For few heartbeats, Yesha looked at him in bewilderment. An insecure feeling grew in Kashyap’s mind. Did he made the mistake in coming here? He doubted himself. “You are from Yudhvan, a clan that breeds warriors. How can a gem be born there?” asked the surprised Yesha. “May be I was born to end this war, this tension between your

kingdom and my clan.” Kashyap risked to step further. “May be my words can stop things that weapons has failed till now.” The majestic door closed behind him with a thud. Alarmed, Yesha rose from her throne. “What is the meaning of this?” “Precautions, my empress,” the advisor said, battening the door. “A Yudhvan kills our king. I can’t risk your life at the presence of their kind.” “We haven’t killed your king!” Gaurav declared. “Someone did this dirty job and blamed us for it.” He spun to the queen. “Believe me, my lady. We have been framed.” The advisor cackled, his laughter echoing in the throne hall. “Don’t you think you’ve more brain than you are supposed to have, worm. Ten years I’ve waited for this. And now when the moment has arrived, I won’t allow anyone to ruin it. Yudhvan must fall!”

The advisor cackled, his laughter echoing in the throne hall. “Don’t you think you’ve more brain than you are supposed to have, worm. Ten years I’ve waited for this. And now when the moment has arrived, I won’t allow anyone to ruin it. Yudhvan must fall!”

“What are you talking about?” Yesha said, placing her hand at her waist. “Princess,” the advisor teased. “Oh, my apology. Empress, are you looking for this?” He displayed a sharp knife with a golden hilt. “You must take care of your belongings.” “Give me my knife.” Yesha order, enraged. “Guards! Fetch him and throw him into the dungeons!”

Kashyap’s stomach churned as no guard moved an inch. A horrible truth flooded him as he realised apart from the queen, ten guards, Gaurav and the insane advisor, there was no one. And the hall was locked. That meant only one thing. It was all plotted. “You killed the king!” The advisor’s scowled. “Yes, I’ve poisoned him to death. He left him no choice. He wanted to give back the land to Yudhvan.” Yesha’s leg failed and she slumped back in the throne. “But why?” “War has destroyed my family. It was a Yudhvan skirmish that snatched the lives of my dear ones. My wife, my son, my mother – everyone whom I loved.” The advisor’s eyes brimmed with tears, his face contorted with hatred. “And I am not the only sufferer. These guards too have lost their relatives. And now I’ll end this by destroying everything! The armies had already reached out the gates.” He raised his hands. “Brothers, they are all yours.” Brandishing their swords, the guards neared Kashyap. For the first time in life, Kashyap felt proud to be a Yudhvan.”Gaurav, till the death?” “Till the death, my friend.” Kashyap ducked in nick of time as one of the guard attacked him. With swift defence tactics, he disarmed his foe and armed himself. The guard hollered in pain as Kashyap struck at his heart. Another leaped and their sword clashed. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Gaurav fighting four of the guards. It was a relief to see a sword in his hand and a headless guards beneath his legs. Clangs and cries filled the hall. Pain seared in Kashyap’s shoulder as one of the guards drew a cut from his blade. Enraged to see his own blood, Kashyap spun his blade, decapitating him. The lifeless body collapsed. “Help!” Kashyap heard Yesha’s scream. Half of the guards had met their doom, half still were alive. “Gaurav!” Gaurav understood what his friend meant. He leaped and engaged himself in deflecting the assaults of five swordsmen at a time.

Kashyap seized this opportunity and dashed towards the dais. 10

Horror chocked her throat as Yesha watched the advisor towering upon him. The blade flickered the daylight from the high vents. “Sorry, princess,” said the advisor. “Your reign ends now!” A sword pierced his chest and the advisor howled, crumpling beside the throne. Kashyap stood behind him, his sword stained with the betrayer’s blood. 11

“Why do you write?” asked Yesha, watching Yudhvan people settling back in their homeland. Kashyap smiled. “I write for the peace of my mind, my lady. Now, I’ll write for the peace of my people.” “Kashyap,” Gaurav called. “There is something you should know.”

A sword pierced his chest and the advisor howled, crumpling beside the throne. Kashyap stood behind him, his sword stained with the betrayer’s blood.

“What’s the matter?” “It was me, who traded your Starlight Wisdom for wool with the merchant.” There was an awkward silence. “What?! I swear I am going to skin you for this.” “Be calm, Kashyap,” said Yesha. “It was his mistake. Forgive him. Think if he had not committed this mistake, then your people would not have been saved.” “That means I saved them all, right?” Gaurav asked, hopeful. They all burst into laughter, a laughter of celebration.

A Pitcher

Neelam Dadhwal (India)

Slowly carves my life These earthly hands over The pitcher the fine lines, I run my fingers Knowing nothing for certain How long I have been thirsty. Sometimes over a long way Among the shadows oftrees, Or filling it the song ofwomen The scent ofwater without A whisper I start to believe The shape ofearth it surrounds. Till today in some corner Ofmy heart there is a pitcher Flowing ceaselessly, the song, The moonlight and the stories Ofa night full ofstars Lie in my cot in unabated breath.

Husain Zamin

Illustrator Who Makes Us Laugh

Mr. Husain Zamin Zaidi is a well known illustrator in the world ofhindi comics. Letâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s know more about him through this interview. 40

Portrait OfSardar Vallabhbhai Patel By Husain Zamin 41

Ashi: Greetings to you Sir! At the outset, on behalfof ‘Reflection Magazine’, I would like to thank you on becoming a family member ofReflection and for accepting my request to interview you. Sir, please do tell us something about your family, childhood and education.

I was born on 2nd Oct, 1952 in Mumbai. My father was a manager in tea shop at the railway station. I was brought up in Manmad and did my schooling from Saint Mary School. Ashi: When did you develop interest in art and sketching?

In 1970 I failed in Matriculation and could hardly concentrate on my studies. In my exams, instead of writing answers, I used to draw cartoons and write jokes to impress my teachers so that they would let me pass my exams but unluckily they didn’t. In my childhood I used to act as though I were the owner of the canteen and bakery where my father worked. My classmates used to call me ‘Pop-In’ and it amused me a lot. Ashi: When and how did you get interest in sketching?

My elder brother, late Md. Zamin Zaidi, used to draw and after seeing him I too developed interest in it. He had the looks of a hero and after sometime he turned towards acting but I was still interested in my art deeply.

Bollywod Legend Dilip Kumar In Various Moods By Husain Zamin

Comics Page By Husain Zamin

Ashi: Did you ever face any trouble in drawing?

Yes, few of my father’s friends used to object by saying that sketching is prohibited in Islam and sometimes even my father objected. Being an obedient son I never rebelled against my father.

Once when my father was not at home I stood on a table and made a 3-4 feet long sketch ofmy Aunty. When my father came back home I hid myself out offear. He called me and I was surprised when he hugged me instead and requested me to sketch a portrait ofmy grandmother beside my aunt’s.

Ashi: Did your family easily allow you to choose ‘Art’ as your career? Ifnot then how did you convince them for it?

I used to draw in secret and hide it from my father. One day my father received a telegram and came to know about his only younger sister Aabeda’s demise. He cried badly and usually when he missed her he looked at her photo for comfort. Once when my father was not at home I stood on a table and made a 3-4 feet long sketch of my Aunty. When my father came back home I hid myself out of fear. He called me and I was surprised when he hugged me instead and requested me to sketch a portrait of my grandmother beside my aunt’s. Ashi: How did you decide to turn your hobby into a career?

At that time we had only one comics- ‘Indrajaal’ which was published by Times of India, Mumbai. It had foreign characters like- Betaal and Mandrake. Few were imported like DC comics (Superman and Spiderman) and Gold Key comics (Walt Disney etc), but these were very expensive. I was only a student in school. I bought these imported comics and then copied the comic strips as it is and display it on the school’s notice board. All my fellow students enjoyed reading those and none of the teachers and neither the principal objected to it ever; they too enjoyed reading those. Ashi: Have you had any formal training in making posters or sketching?

In 1970 after failing my Matric, I started making oil paintings of film stars. Nobody trained me for that. I bought colour on my own and started painting by mixing water and then kerosene oil. Then I met a man who used to make sign boards and from him I came to know that water and kerosene wasn’t used in oil paintings. The only thing 44

Comics Page By Husain Zamin 45

used was linseed oil. I used to make large portraits of famous film stars. The customers who visited the canteen where I was working as an assistant manager in those days were mesmerized by my art. Sometimes I used to make sketches on the marble tables to impress my customers. Few customers demanded those and even appreciated it but after sometime my father ordered me to wipe it all. Ashi: How did you start your career and when did you get your first break?

Phantom comics left deep impact on me since my childhood. It is designed by many but most ofthe work is done by Mr. Seymour "Sy" Barry and he is my ideal. I like Tintin also because ofits good script and amazing illustration.

I wanted to leave my job at the canteen. I used to make comics of ‘Phantom’ which was published in ‘Indrajaal’ and made my own stories and sent those to the publishing house by post. Mr. A.T. Singhvi was editor at that time. He appreciated my work but didn’t publish it because of copyright issues of that character. One day I received a call letter from him. After reaching there he offered me the job of cutting and pasting the cartoon pictures on comics. Ashi: Who is your ideal and inspiration?

Phantom comics left deep impact on me since my childhood. It is designed by many but most of the work is done by Mr. Seymour "Sy" Barry and he is my ideal. I like Tintin also because of its good script and amazing illustration. Ashi: What was your reaction when you got published for the first time?

Once I made a parody of the Hindi movie ‘Sholay’ and sent it to several magazine for publication and at last Mr. B. K. Karanjia, the editor of Filmfare, appreciated my work and showed interest. I translated the parody in English and submitted my first art work. It was published under the names of my elder brother and me in November 1977 issue of Filmfare. I remember, I slept with that issue and whenever I woke up, I saw my name in print with wide eyes. After that my work regularly featured in several magazines. Ashi: Is there any particular character that you like to draw? 46

Comics Page By Husain Zamin

Yes, I like late Ibn-e-Safi since my childhood. I like all the issues of his ‘Jasoosi Duniya’. I really had keen desire to make his characters like- Faridi, Hameed, Qasim and Imran. Ashi: Who is your favorite writer and artist?

Tintin’s creator Herge and Mathew are my favorite writer and artist. Phantom’s artist Mr. Sy Barry and writer Mr. Lee Falk are also my favorites. Ashi: What is your favorite pastime?

Yes, I like late Ibn-eSafi since my childhood. I like all the issues ofhis ‘Jasoosi Duniya’. I really had keen desire to make his characters like- Faridi, Hameed, Qasim and Imran.

Spending time on Facebook for fun. Ashi: When did your complete comic get published and what was its name?

My first complete comic was ‘Veer Savarkar’ and after that two more with the same publisher ‘Surya Sen’ and Subhash Chandra Bose’. Ashi: Do tell us about some ofyour other published comic and comic characters .

I created two characters ‘Nanha Jasoos Babloo’ and ‘Filmi reporter Kalamdas’ from 1980 to 1990. In 1986 for Manoj comics I started making complete comics and went on doing 30 to 40 comics for them. Ashi : Ifyou get a chance to go back in time then what would you like to change and why?

Science has improved a lot and it saves time and energy now. Earlier I used to carry my work in briefcases to show those to publishers and if there was any mistake then I had to carry all that back. Payments were made through cheques and needed to wait 3-4 days for clearance. But now in this age of computer and internet I get all my work done from the comfort of my home and go out only for the household works. Ashi: Which ofyour art work gave you most creative satisfaction?

I like all my art work as other artists do but yes, every now and then I wish that I could do even better and then I start to search better techniques for this .

Comics Page By Husain Zamin

Ashi : What are you doing now a days?

After the arrival of cartoon channels the craze for comics is almost over and so is its publications. As I donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t know anything else, since 1990, I have started sketching pictures for educational books. But this kind of publishing has two seasons a year, one is production and another is sales. During the sales season we artists are sidelined and in production season we get very busy. I enjoy this production time as it is of my interest. In sales season when I am free I create storyboards for advertising agencies. Ashi : Is there any special message that you would like to give through Reflection magazine?

On social media people mostly say that they want to be software engineers or doctors but after seeing the popularity of artists they too get fascinated by this career. Through this Reflection magazine I want to convey this message to all the readers that you should choose your career according to your interest and not by seeing the popularity of others. Ashi : Thank you for sharing your true words ofwisdom in the field ofart and for improvement ofour literary magazine. The budding artists are sure to draw nourishment from the radiance ofyour spirit and your gracious advice would boost up their enthusiasm to be creative. Profound thanks to you!

I feel more than honored appeaing in REFLECTIONâ&#x20AC;Ś.in fact I must THANK you.

Legendry Comics Artist Husain Zamin

Breathing Inside

Diwakar Pokhriyal (Delhi, India) I want to know the true nature, Ofmy cultural soul, Roots that reside deep inside, My consciousness and my goal, The power ofthat ardent belief, Or that thin line oftrust, I know my culture teach equality, Have respected place even for rust, Deciphering magic ofunity in diversity, I grasped the senses ofdivinity, A culture ofrespect and understanding, Perfect beliefin trinity, The shining colors offreedom, Fierce warriors ofthe time, Oh Lord! I salute your creation, So soothing as rhyme, Ohm Namah Shivaye, Constitutes the whole universe, We breathe the air offreshness, Developing the power ofverse.

Summer Play Manish Sharma (India)

Summers in Punjab are furious and sore where temperature touches nearly 50o C. All afternoons are silent. Skies are blank, roads are empty. Shops keep waiting for the customers. Fans run slow due to low voltage. Life is even slower than a snail. But the sweat runs fast on face and forehead. After sunset the streets, shops and parks are full. Children come out to play, enjoy ice cream. On one evening children were playing in their mohallas (streets). Suddenly there was a power cut. It was nothing unexpected for them. They all screamed in the same familiar tone. They will scream back again when the power will resume.

“Mohan come home,” said his grandfather. “Coming dada,” he said. “Find the match stick and light the lantern.” As it was all dark, Mohan entered the store room with great difficulty and found the lantern hung on a hook. He found the match stick from the kitchen and lightened the lantern. The small room was full of light. Mohan ran outside to play again. Suddenly with a scream the power was resumed. Everything was again bright. Dada blew the flame to extinguish it and switched on the fan and light. After ten minutes there was again a scream, as supply was snapped again. “Mohan come home,” said his grandfather. “Coming dada,” he said. Find the match stick and light the lantern.

A Fighter Kite Shahid Khan (Gujrat, India)

On 14th January every year the festival ofâ&#x20AC;&#x2DC;Uttarayanâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; (the kite-flying festival) is celebrated in Ahmedabad. Irrespective oftheir religion everyone enjoys kite flying throughout the day, in fact for two days (14th and 15th January). The number ofkites flying in the sky of Ahmedabad is more than that ofthe kites flying anywhere in the world. People of Ahmedabad are so passionate about kite-flying that they fly kites from whichever place they can (i.e from terrace, roof, road, balcony, river-bed etc.). Some (like my brother) are so passionate that they would continue to fly kites even when their fingers and palms get severely cut by sharp glass-coated strings. They spend the entire day flying kites and to make the atmosphere more enjoyable music is played at full-throttle. So the localities reverberate with music from every corner. In the following poem, I have tried to capture the fervor ofthis festival and highlight some skills which are applied in kite flying, like kite cutting & capturing. There's lot more to it. People fly kite for various purpose. Some do it just for enjoyment or some like to cut others kite down while some others like to capture etc. There are no fixed set ofrules. And now-adays some people even rope-in DJs to make most ofthe day. In short, it's like a full-blown party with the basic theme ofkite flying. Although the kite-flying day is celebrated in most part ofIndia; the fun, frolic and the craze with which it is celebrated in Ahmedabad remains incomparable.)

A Fighter Kite I had to pass the test on the day offest When colorful kites adorned the whole sky I was set out gently to mingle with the rest And to rule the sky was my sole conquest.

As none was left within my range I danced a bit just for a change To the upbeat music which was loud Now I was talking to a thin cloud.

With the personality and resemblance Ofthe bird ofprey, the lord ofthe sky I flew graciously away so high And steadied myselfwith pure elegance.

There came a stray kite closer to me It was so colorful, so pretty That I felt true love for that cutie Serenaded around her to capture that beauty.

Now the time was right to clear the sky By bringing down all which were so nigh With a non-stop clinical pull on my right Four went down and out ofsight.

Encircling and spinning around her to capture Finally entangled my string with that ofher Now I was sure she would be mine But a gust ofwind snapped my line.

On my left were two with one Jumbo kite. But all went down without giving a fight. I felt proud to be a â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;Giant Killerâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; As the shouts ofjoy got loud and shriller.

Both went floating together in the sky And the change ofwind took us high Up and away from the reach ofany hand Forever together until we land.

Shahid Khan 56

Tips For Moving To The Middle East Raven Snow (Jordan)

I remember people always used to ask foreigners why they had moved to the states

“We are moving” the words hit

little over a year ago. It is a

me hard, “You’ re one stubborn

move from the land of the free to

girl you know, this is for your

a place, where a rapist gets to

own good. ”

marry his victim. Pleasant!

“I don’ t want to go. I yelled

Right!

back, “I don’ t want to. ”

I remember people always

“Well good thing you have no

used to ask foreigners why they

choice. ” My mom ended the

had moved to the states. They

discussion.

always gave the same response

“You’ re unbelievable, uffff… . ” I

‘ we wanted a better life for our

said as I slammed the door shut.

kids’ . Yet there I was being

This was maybe the third time

moved back to a small village on

me and my mom had fought

the other side of the world. It’s

about that dumb move, it was a

actually funny when I think of it

The first thing that struck me was the Arabic. Everyone spoke this weird alien language like they were all part ofsome cult and I was the only outside looking in

actually pretty ironic. My parents decided I needed a reconnection to culture and religion. I thought they were nuts, I mean how can people in dresses ever help me in life? But unfortunately there was no use talking to them, their minds were made. So I was dragged to a whole other planet, the Middle East. The first thing that struck me was the Arabic. Everyone spoke this weird alien language like they were all part of some cult and I was the only outside looking in. My mom wasn’t kidding when she called me stubborn; you see I completely refused to learn it. I will not give into their ways, I will not, at least that’s what I told myself then. It was always like that, me against the world. My sisters might have been on my side the first couple of days but soon after they elegantly found their

place in that messed up society and were deemed model citizens. I think I missed the awarding ceremony or maybe I was never invited since I was too much a freak, yeah, I guess that’s it. I’m sure they threw them a party; it’s the only thing that would explain how they were suddenly all happy go lucky with everything. Next on my long list of culture shock was meeting the family. Like wow, the second we set foot into the luggage area a choir of our names started. I freaked out at first, and then saw the horde of people standing there to greet us. Now the kisses, that’s a whole other story. Arab kisses go on forever, let’s just leave it at that, it’s an eternal movement from one cheek to the other with various kissing noises being made depending on the person, sort of like a mating call of some kind. Be prepared. I still don’t understand their rules and

I was suddenly living in those weird soup operas nobody watches anymore. All that fake happiness but talking behind the back, the rivalry, the betrayal yet oddly when it was an outsider trying to affect someone all shields were up and an army was instantly there to defend

purpose actually, I doubt I ever will. It was somehow declared that there will be a family meeting this Thursday, and get this, it applies to every Thursday from here on out. If only I was consulted I might have been able to describe to these people what a lovely choice pizza was, but no we got stuck with mansaf. Now if you don’t know what mansaf is I don’t think I can really describe it, you’ll either love or hate it, luckily for me I was on the long love list. ‘Help me out of here’ I cried to myself every night, ‘I don’t fit in here’ at least at that time I thought I didn’t. Over the years I’ve realized family is everything here, yet being in the Arab world it can never be as simple as that. I was suddenly living in those weird soup operas nobody watches anymore. All that fake happiness but talking behind the back, the rivalry, the betrayal yet

oddly when it was an outsider trying to affect someone all shields were up and an army was instantly there to defend. Another thing I’ve learnt bout Arab families is that they aren’t all that taboo. Let me explain, here the ideal marriage is of that where two cousins get wed. So get used to hearing oh you’d be perfect for your cousins blah. Even the kids do it, you would not believe the number of times I’ve been accused of falling in love with my cousin just because we played together and it was all my other cousins that started it, people that I thought were my friends, families. Now I know that’s just the way they are taught, boys are boys and girls are girls, they shouldn’t mix. They are to this world what drugs are to mine. There goes ¾ of my friend base ever. Just another reason I thought I’d never fit in.

Now, I know it may seem like it’s the worst place ever but it has its goods as well. Cultures are all the same in a way, they have their dos and don’ts. They all have their restrictions and their own versions ofwhat’ll make you happy

Culture shock number 4, don’t ever show any form of love. Sleeping on your grandfathers’ lap is rude. Speaking your mind is rude. Listening to adults talk is rude. Playing anything other house is rude. I really didn’t know what to do anymore. You’re going to hear the word over and over again Arab, there is no real way to translate it. It’s just the word Arabs use to stop you from doing anything basically. Arab became like the curse I kept falling into again and again. So eventually I decided to take a step back, shut my mouth from time to time, stopped annoying my grandfather, and stopped playing with the guys in any form. But there was one small problem with that decision; I don’t fit with my gender role. Here’s basically how it goes, girls cook guys watch sports. Girls do well at school guys aren’t. Girls look

pretty, guys are hairy. Girls gossip, guys fight about news. I know that’s how most culture are, or at least start but it was just more intense here. Now, I know it may seem like it’s the worst place ever but it has its goods as well. Cultures are all the same in a way, they have their dos and don’ts. They all have their restrictions and their own versions of what’ll make you happy. Weddings are a must here, yet they are different. Remember what I said about drugs? Guys have their own room n girls have another. While over their pizza is the weekend meal here a form of rice probably will be. But in the end its still the same concept gathering around something as a kind of mini celebration for finishing the week. Foods important, it becomes a kind of identity.

Cultures aren’t just barriers to keep people out like I though, no they are identities used to keep us together

If finally decided to stop whining and try to learn a thing or two. Traditions are warm and exciting, something that has been done for as long as our people existed. Yes it’s different than what I grew up with, very different yet I can’t help see all the similarities now. Cultures aren’t just barriers to keep people out like I though, no they are identities used to keep us together. To make sure we don’t forget, so we won’t be forgotten either. They show we are all human, we all have links to the past, and we will never and are never alone. In my year here I’ve learnt a lot. I don’t agree with everything and that’s fine. I’m learning what it’s like to be Arab and what it’s like to be

Russian, and Indian and African and I’ll go on learning. Cultures’ can be good or bad depending on how you use them. I’ve changed a lot and I think I’m more me now. I’ve learnt new ways to look at things yet that doesn’t mean I’ve given up on myself. I bet you are all pretty bored by now, I hope I can be more informative next time. Sorry I totally digressed; I tend to do that all the time. Anyway I’ve got to get going. Will write more soon. Maybe I could get my friends to write about their changes as well and we’ll get a guild to the world. Yeah, that would be cool. Anyway till next time, Tanya

How I got published Ruchi Chopra (Indian stays in USA)

“Everyone who can understand the nuances ofthe expressions and emotions can write.”

Publishing industry has seen huge overlapping endearments and testimonials in varied identities and charms in the form ofbudding writers in recent years. Gone are the days when parents used to say to their kid, “Why to waste your time in writing poetry and stories, study harder to be doctor, engineer or appear in administrative services.” In contemporary world, writing and publishing industry is one ofthe major industries that have seen monumental growth in its stature and prominence over the years. “Money and fame is the catchphrase ofany industry abuzz with the charms and fame.”

Nobody can underestimate the nuances ofprofession wherein name, fame, adoration and money comes weaved well within the tapestry ofimaginative canvas which is bejeweled with shining words. How to achieve it and how to become a great storyteller or writer is one ofthe interesting questions? The profession has seen a full-fledged growth in its learning format with innovative concepts, writing courses and worldwide seminars available for budding authors both online and offline as an accessory support system. “Expression is the key to the world where words rules the hearts.”

How to get published is one ofthe questions from the Pandora box ofthe dreams ofany aspiring writer. The ways and means might have seen changes in the recent years as the publishing industry has seen mushrooming ofnumerous self-publishing houses and with the advent ofthe Internet it has become far more outreached and outstretched. Still the classical approach for this

renowned profession remains the same with so many gems ofliterary world such as Rabindranath Tagore, Munshi Premchand, Shakespeare, Robert Frost, James Patterson, Jane Austen, Charles Dickens, and Margaret Atwood.

Few Do & Don’t checklists:

• Any aspiring write should know the language especially the spelling and grammar usage. Nowadays for people who struggle to understand the proper grammar usage might find many useful tools and online support free of cost like- transliteration facility and easy to learn editing online tools. • Any aspiring writer has to be an avid reader also, as you have to read others writer’s works and comprehends it. • Participate in book discussion meets and books clubs if you can. It has two way benefits, you learn and you earn friends and readers for your work also. • Any aspiring write needs to understand the difference between all the genres and the current trends in the publishing fields. • Branding of authors- many publishing houses that mostly caters to introducing their budding authors on every possible social media platform. It gives the coverage and the exposure in every possible ways. “Exposure to world and to opportunities is buzzword in today’s contemporary world.”

Sources to get published are many and to validate opportunities in a better ways, every writer needs to understand from experience and sources the functional and other aspects of publishing industry. Traditional sources ofgetting published:

• Any aspiring writer can send the draft of his/her novel(s) and the articles as per as Publishing houses demands. These days every renowned publishing house has a website and page on the various social media platforms. • Newspapers and magazines of varied interests and genres these 63

days calls for the submission from the budding writers as per as listed pre-requisites listed on their webpages/websites or blog or pages on various social media platform. • Content writing is also getting popular these days and the demand for good content writers is increasing day by day. • Blogging & Micro blogging is another popular feature for the aspiring writers who wish to make most of their free time and Internet tools.

Modern means ofgetting published: • With the advent of the Internet and Global village waves, connectivity and reachability are synonymous with the exposure. Grab the opportunities free of cost available on the Internet platform from e-journals, search engines, joining literary groups on the social media platform. Most of the times you will find contests run by many publishing houses seeking submission from the aspiring writers. •Do make best use of free Internet technology and opportunities posted on the various social media platforms, groups and pages.

Tips from my experience: “Zeal heals the failures indeed.” • Conventional diary writing habit is one of its kinds. I have been following this habit from many years but of lately I have switched to penning down my thoughts in my smart phone. So don’t hesitate to pen down your emotions and thoughts. It’s first step to build your self-confidence. • Read and read and read a lot. • Don’t despair if you are not selected once or for the few times. Don’t give up. Keep trying with your self-belief. Many times it’s not easy, as I too have got experience for the rejection but selection also. One thing keeps me motivated all the times since I was in grade 8th, if I didn’t have the grades I expected I tried harder next time. Sometimes competitiveness and positivity is our best ally. I feel motivated always to improvise and to write best next time if I am rejected somehow on varied platforms.

How Igot published: Well Yay! My first anthology as a contributing author is published with the title “Her story: It's not always a story”. I got this chance in the form of contest link shared with me by my mother over Facebook chat. It was last day, in fact just few hours’ left for the submission time. I submitted my story and a poem for the contest. Few days later I got the wonderful news for the selection. Then I started to look for more such contests hosted by publishing houses and got the links shared from the groups and the co-authors Facebook pages. My experience in the publishing industry has been varied. As a career in broadcasting & print media I knew the nuances of the industry but learning from the experiences. The self-publishing houses have been supporting budding authors from the very young age to write and to get published with the stipulated amount of money for the printing and marketing prerequisites. Only a word of caution would be that learn from your experiences both good and bad. Keep writing and improvising on every step you take as a writer. Keep exploring new opportunities, which come in your ways. As there is no set golden rule for being successful in any field in my opinion except, you have to learn and grow with your own experiences. Few more book titles have come such as- 31 sins, Page a day poetry Anthology2015, Blank Space and few more to come by early next year. My few poetic muses have been published in online journals also. I explored the online journals, kept it in my habit to read few pages online everyday. I got my chance to get published first as a student almost 18 years back in the youth section for the Hindustan Times. Than the journey began from making my career in the broadcasting media than switching to print media as a correspondent and now I have started my second innings as a writer and feel great to pursue my passion.

How Iam envisioning my dream: Trying to grow and learn from my experiences and also from the other person’s perspective and words of wisdom. You can read me at my blog address

Ruchi2312.wordpress.com

You can reach me at my email address

Rucche.chopra@gmail.com

Keep writing Keep reading Keep inspiring everyone around Cheers 65

Nurturing the Philippines’ Cultural Heritage Elizabeth Esguerra Castillo (Philippines)

Our archipelago, the Philippines is blessed with enchanting and wondrous landscapes. The Pearl of the Orient never fades to amaze people from foreign lands. Get a hold of our captivating islands with their pristine beaches and wade your feet in the clear, blue waters. Our cultural heritage should be nurtured to allow the young generations to come to still enjoy the country’s natural beauty. The Philippine Cultural Heritage Law provides for the protection and preservation ofThe Philippine Cultural Heritage. The National Historical Heritage is the sole agency to place “Heritage Markers” rather than “Historical Markers”. Here are 5 places in the Philippines named by the World Heritage:

1. Tubbataha ReefNational Marine Park 1. Tubbataha Reef National Marine Park, South Sulu Sea, Palawan – the marine park is the Philippines’ first inscription on the UNESCO World Heritage List in 1993, recognized for its’ importance to regional diversity. It was also named as one of the most outstanding coral reefs in Southeast Asia. 66

2. Banaue Rice Terraces in Ifugao 2. Banaue Rice Terraces in Ifugao â&#x20AC;&#x201C; The stair-line rice plots is likened to a staircase to heaven. The Rice Terraces of the Philippines is one of the most outstanding places in the country lying high in the Cordillera Mountain Range.

3. Vigan, Ilocos Sur 3. Vigan, Ilocos Sur â&#x20AC;&#x201C; Vigan, Ilocos Sur was recently names as one of the New7Wonders Cities. The Spanish-style old houses where most old films go for location shootings. This city situated in far Northern Philippines boasts of a rich cultural heritage which is preserved and maintained even in our modern time these days.

4. Church ofSan Agustin in Paoay

4. Church of San Agustin in Paoay, Ilocos Norte – built in 1604 and is one of the most outstanding “earthquake baroque” structures in the Philippines.

5.Puerto Princesa Subterranean River National Park, Palawan

5.Puerto Princesa Subterranean River National Park, Palawan – the park is natural wonder and is considered among the longest river in the world. 68

**Source : www. tourism. gov. ph

Photos, captions and sources: 1. First photo caption: Tubattaha ReefNational Marine Park, Palawan Source: New10Wonders. blogspot. com 2. Second photo caption: Banaue Rice Terraces, Ifugao Source: destination360. com 3. Third photo caption: Vigan, Ilocos Sur Source: infocomtrade. com 4. Fourth photo caption: Church ofSan Agustin, Paoay, Ilocos Norte Source: explorerPhilippines. com 5. Fifth photo caption: Puerto Princesa Subterranean River National Park, Palawan Source: puertoundergroundriver. com

YOUR REFLECTION I am privileged to be part of a journal, which compliments my writings and gives it the encouragement, to help me realise am on the right path Thank you all,the whole team. Always shall I try to justify my presence as a writer and an advisor. May it grow from strength to heights of literary growth. God bless you all.

A warm and heartfelt thanks to the entire team of Reflections. ......indeed its been an enriching experience being a part of this highly creative voyage. Ruchida Barman (India)

Thank you so much REFLECTION MAGAZINE for the opportunities you give to all Sharique Jamal (India) the artists, poets and photographers! My poem entitled ''THE ENCOUNTER'' is on It is the warmth and encouragement provided page 38 of the November 2014 Issue. by Reflection Team that motivates me to create Congratulations to all our friends & and the something or the other even at times when my contributors Elizabeth Castillo, Christena mind hits the block road. So thanks to you people Williams Antonia Valaire, Ashok K. Bhargava who provide me full support which helps me and more. grow as a writer. Special thanks to sisters Ashi, Elizabeth Heartfelt wishes to the whole team of Esguerra Castillo and the staff! Reflection on completion of two years Long live! successfully. May this journey continue forever Ceri Naz (Philippines) with compounding success and appreciation with each issue. Congratulations and cheers. Thank you very much and my mom loves the Shahid Khan (India) picture. She loves flowers and nature. She has her own huge garden. Wish you all the best for many coming years Wow that poem by Praveen Gola loving it too! What a collection of intellect put together! always. One of the best magazines I read and am part of. Antonia Valaire (USA) Neelam Dadhwal (India)

Abhijit Narayan Abhijit Narayan is a corporate lawyer. He studied law in the USA and practised in India before moving to Germany. He started writing while he was in school. He was pre-occupied with professional commitments until he moved to Europe. That is when he took to writing poetry seriously. He describes poetry in the following words: 'for long, I remained a stranger to poetry and for long, I remained a stranger to myself'.

A Non足Resident Indian

Abhijit Narayan (Indian stays in Germany) On a beautiful night, When the stars twinkle And give company to A glorious moon, Shining as bright as Only it can, My sleep eludes me. My emotions, Like the unpredictable Waves ofa turbulent sea, Distract me. My thoughts, My memories, About You, Are busy, Pacing up and down In my mind.

India, Although, thousands ofmiles Separate us, My love for you Remains unchanged. You are alive within me, Like a beautiful feeling, Throbbing, pulsating, Which cannot be expressed In emotionless words, Only experienced, Like all things Closer to our heart. Someday I will return, To greet you, Hug you, And be with you, For, I belong to you,

Ruchi Chopra Ruchi is a homemaker by choice & freelance writer by passion. Writing gives her a creative space to express herself. She is passionate about Mother Nature, Photography & musings on life. She loves to read anything which is interesting & worth to learn or deliberate later on. She believes that â&#x20AC;&#x153;Life is choices & actions linked with sprinklings of fate & faith.â&#x20AC;? She is Indian by descent based in Brecksville, Ohio, USA. She has past work experience in Broadcasting & print Media, in India. She has been contributing her articles & writings to various social networking websites, newspapers, magazines and documentary.

Smile! As you are in Lucknow Ruchi Chopra (Indian stays in USA) Life is full of gaiety and love here Adab&Adaab woo hearts forever Urdu language is heartbeat of this Shayarana city Singing praises of city’s beautiful cultural legacy Exciting & zealous development is seen in varied fields Perfectly blended cocktail of old & new life’s verities Famous monuments Rumi Darwaza, Bada Imamabara, Chattar Manzi l& Bhool Bhooliya

Gives friendly smile to mesmerize tourists Awadh i cuisine is hailed as one of the best

Around the World Culinary Delectable palates Shaan & Shaukat at city’s cultural legacy behest

Roaming around the Old Lucknow streets on the Rickshaw & Watching the crowd puller stunts at various Nukkad & Chauk shops Savoring the Hanuman temple boondi ladoos on every Tuesday Nothing can beat down the bhiayaji ki chai and chaat

No one minds the jaunts and juxtaposition of verbal dichotomy The city breathes in & out Shaan, Shaukat, Nazakat & Tehzeeb

One forlorn thought crept into my mind When I visited my hometown after seven long years Legacy of my hometown city will be protected well

Chicken delicacies or chiken fashions It’s the Nawabi way of living life Morbid thoughts turned into rosy smiles Just roaming around the city For its famous Paan or kababs or Kulfi delights

From the growing nuances of Pollution & cramming traffic problem If city dwellers fondly known as Lucknowites Will adopt green ways to flaunt its cultural legacy baton

Nothing can beat down frenzied evocative smiles Dripped in sensual pleasures by savoring street delicacies Around famous Chowk, Aminabaad & Hazaratganj markets

The city, which flash its famous flamboyant lines“Muskariye, Ki Aap Lucknow mein hain”

“Smile! As you are now in Lucknow” The city, which has Luck in its name May the City revels in its velvet fame

Why Do I Write?

For me, this question is just like someone asking a human, why you breathe. Anmol Ratan Sachdeva

This question is presented before anyone who is known to pen down his/her feelings in the form of words to present in front of the world. For me, this question is just like someone asking a human, why you breathe. Like a newborn child, who does not know about the phenomenon of breathing and its importance for his existence, I feel the same for myself too. I used to convey my feelings in the form of incomplete paragraphs and lines which I felt came partly from my daily life experiences and partly from what I see around me. But I never thought that I would write seriously at any point of time in the future. Today when I see myself, I just have one clear image in my mind, to make myself capable of changing and

touching lives to a level where human beings and my readers feel the importance of happiness in lives. I want to touch every single soul who reads my writings in a way which not only entertains them but also help them realize the true worth of their existence. I want to spread the notion that it is important to find happiness deep within one's own personality rather than wandering here and there in search of happiness. When I write, I feel the real power in my hand where I am just like the writer of someone's destiny which will surely affect everyone who comes across that character in the future. This ability to create something makes me write in a way which can impact others in some way or the other. 75

I want to make people understand the

complain or to feel broken. Real struggle

true meaning of love, happiness, life and

is in fighting and winning over your own

dreams. I want them to realize who they

weaknesses and struggles and rising to a

actually are and wish that one day, in this

level where all the struggles and defeats

j ourney; I should understand the true

appear small and insignificant.

Anmol Ratan Sachdeva (India)

meaning of life, at large. Through my writings, I j ust want to make a difference in the lives of people at a level where they understand that it is never hard to

I write because words are my air and without them I'd suffocate in this cruel world Raven Snow

I’ ve asked myself this question time and time again, why do I write and every time the answer is different. I don’ t really know what drives me to pick up the pen and stain that all too white paper. Sometimes it is because I want to be heard. I want my thought to be yelled out to the world. I have a deep fear of being forgotten, of being nobody j ust like everyone else. Sometimes I j ust can’ t stand living in my skin so I need to take it off, even if it’s only for the time that words bleed on to this page. I write because I’ m angry, I write because I’ m happy, I write to prove to the world I can. I write because my words are my paintbrush, it’s how I can show you what I see, it’s how I can paint the sky and the clouds as they slowly drift away reminding us that everything must change. I write to show I’ m not perfect, and you’ re not perfect either. I write because there are kids fighting for their lives. I write because of the voices in my head that I j ust need to release. I write because I need to write. I write because words are my air and without them I'd suffocate in this cruel world. I write because it’s the only way to be me. It makes me and it gets me to discover what this world really is and it’s also the only way I’ ll stay sane. It’s the only thing that reminds me that it will get better; it’s the light to my hope. I can make the world a perfect place or I can draw its reality both have their time, both have their effects. So I ask myself again why I write. Why would anyone write? I doubt there will ever be one concrete answer to that. Maybe it’s j ust cause this world is full of stories j ust waiting to be told. Whatever be the reason, I know I’ ll never stop. Writing keeps me whole, and I think everyone should at least try picking up that all too familiar pens and see where it takes you.

Raven Snow (Jordan )

I write primarily because it is my passion and for the Love of the feeling that comes straight from the heart .

Ronald Tuhin D'Rozario

This is an interesting and touchy point of the thought on Why do I write? Is it because I am not a good orator? No! How can that be? I can speak well. Then, where lays the reason and the purpose behind my writings? What is it that makes me write? Well, the answer to this question is a bit simple and a bit complex as well. I write primarily because it is my passion and for the Love of the feeling that comes straight from the heart. So, writing gives me joy and peace. It is a great way of expressing ones ideas and exchanging thoughts without being interrupted. In truth, writing is what that makes me who I am. I live for writing. And when thoughts turn into words that are when I pick up a pen to write. That's when am born. Being in the public is always very easy; but to have a voice of your own that would reach out to people saying, "Hey listen to me!" is pretty difficult. Writing does that for me. Like now, as you are reading my thoughts in my written words. This is what writing is to me. But, In addition to that, there is something more to it which I would like to share.

existence should encompass? IfYes, then such a life is a 'Selfish Life!' What a waste of one's existence! Each life has a purpose and a meaning to it. We often get so involved in clicking selfies that we fail to capture what lies beneath the skin. The soul. The selfies of our purposes, our works and our agenda for being in existence.

There comes a point when life makes you stand at its break even, and it is then that you analyze about the purpose of your mortal existence. Buzzing hornets of questions swarmed into my mind. Was there a pre-birth? Will there be birth after life? Who am I then and what have I been born to be? What is the purpose of my life? What have I achieved and what do I have to offer? A thought that often daunts me. At first I don't have answers to those questions. But then I begin to look deep within my heart to seek out for an answer. A purpose.

I seek to leave a mark behind after I am gone, so that it bears the testimony of the epitome for generations to come that, "Once I belonged here."And so I write. For this is all that I can do. I can write. I follow my heart first and instincts later. Since the pen is mightier than a sword, I write to bring about a change. Writing is the best alternative for me. One requires silence to read and this silence helps one to absorb what the writer has to say. And at any point of time one can always refer back to the pages one has read. So, this is the reason 'Why I write' and I always will!

Born today, Gone tomorrow. Is that what one's

I strongly feel that, I am born to be a writer. A voice converted into a stream of words and sentences. To write about things that means a lot to me. To write what I observe about our world, the society at large, people around me and my way of looking at things. Documented words always leave a greater impact than spoken words. They leave a room for one to think, analyze and to understand first before jumping to any conclusion. But spoken words are like words left to float in the air amongst the dust and smoke. Whatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s the big deal about it? It soon gets absorbed in the dusty streets amidst the chaos of the crowd. It never reaches the intended audience or touches someoneâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s heart.

Ronald Tuhin D'Rozario

I remember, I scribbled on my tears too which fell on the diary while writing. The solitude, which made me broken from all sides, has always been my comrade to make me write more.

Anshulika Bansal

instantly as I shed a tear. It was my daily routine after school and often I was found sleeping on the window sill. My grandmother understood my agony and unraveled the convoluted workings of my mind by handing a copy and a pen to me. At first, I scribbled a lot of short sentences but steadily I started pouring my heart out through my writings. My mother still reads my innocent writings of those times and cry hiding her tears. The best part to be a writer is that I can know the unsaid words of any person. It made me a good observer too. I was 16 years old, my parents brought me back home and by then I was so into my grandmother that I started missing her. Again, my heart cried for my grandmother but by then I was mature enough to hide my pain from everybody. See, the irony, when I was a kid , I used to make sure that everybody should see me crying and as I grew up, I made sure that no one sees my crying. My face showed a beaming smile everyday but as the moon used to come up, my heart used to crave for my granny and I let lose the sluice gates of my eyes open. This was the time when I started writing some serious stuff. My diary was my true companion on this journey as my parents are both working and they spent their long hours in office. My pain was poured into my diary every night while going to bed. I remember, I scribbled on my tears too which fell on the diary while writing. I clearly remember, I started writing when I The solitude, which made me broken from all was 8 years old. I used to write short essays on my family members. Back then, as I recall, I used sides, has always been my comrade to make me write more. As said by Khalil Gibran, solitude is to write a lot about my grandmother. She is my an ally of sorrow as well as a companion. true mentor in guiding me on how to write. Unfortunately, she is not here with me to see my Well, now I write for a change. A change, success as a writer. It has been 2 years since she which I feel is necessary for our society. People passed away. have changed now. The indifferent attitude There were some unavoidable circumstances towards others has increased and now nobody due to which my parents have to leave me in my cares for each other. I am just a spectator to this chaos which is created by mankind itself. I feel grandmother’s custody for few years. A kid’s heart got broken from the cruel separation from literature can be a small source which can her parents by destiny. I used to cry a lot seeking incorporate compassion in one’s heart. out of the window thinking that they will appear Anshulika Bansal (India) 78

U15 Zone

Paintings By Ayush Dutt Age 15

U15 Zone

Apoorv Age 12

U15 Zone

Painting By Arsh Age 11

U15 Zone

Arshika Age 7

Cultural Heritage Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all the readers and team members of Reflection. Reflection has completed its two years successfully. My heartfelt gratitude to all our auspicious readers. As soon as I came to know about the theme of January 15 issue, 'Cultural Heritage,' there were several paintings which were taking shape in my brain. Walking through the caves ofAjanta & Ellora my mind reached to the temples ofAngkor Wat in Cambodia. After completing this journey I finally started working on the art section of January 2015 issue. Cultural Heritage is a vast subject which cannot be wrapped up only in ten paintings, so this gallery consists of only some selected paintings. I not only used different techniques to create these paintings, but also used different types of paper sheets. The painting ofAjanta & Ellora were carved on watsman paper sheets and were made by using mix techniques of painting. On the other hand three paintings were made by using fountain pen and ink only. Two paintings weremade on hand made paper and cartage sheet. Water color used on these sheets is in transparent and opaque medium. Besides art section there are two more paintings which have been used as the front and back pages of this issue. Hope you liked this section of January 2015 issue, your suggestions for the improvement are always welcome. Raj Verma

Ruined Palace In Rajesthan

Purana Quila Delhi

Stonehenge 87

Colosseum 88

Eiffel Tower

Lahore Fort

Ajanta 91

Ellora 92

Ruined Palace In Bijapur, Karnatka

Kathakali Dancer 94

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