Reflection mag september 2014 by Reflection W&R Mag

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Editorial Borad

Managing Editor Iram Fatima 'Ashi' (Saudi Arabia, NRI) Editor Vasanthi Papu (India) Associate Editors Dr. Ruchida Barman (India) Dr. Indira Babbellapati (India) Ms Fatima Alhusseiny (Lebanon)

Dr. Ratan Bhattacharjee (India) Dr. Sahab Uddin (India) Mr. Arnab Neogi (India) Editor Art Section R. K. Verma Page layout Kumar Vikrant & Team Reflection

Advisory Board Chairman Mr. Brian E. Wrixon (Canada) Members Ms. Elizabeth Esguerra Castillo (Philippines) Mr. Charles Darnell lives (San Antonio, Texas, USA) Mr. Sharique Jamal (India) Ms. Angie Blake(USA) Ms. Marilyn Reandino Ca単ete (Manila, Philippines)

reflection18@ymail.com

III

Editorial

Innocence

Jen Walls

A Tribute To Cartoonist Pran Saab Mirror And Man

Vasanthi Papu

My Supreme Soulmate

R. K. Verma 7

Vasanthi Papu

Who Are We And What Are We Doing? A Planet Of The Step Mother Answers Beyond

A Touch

Old Lettering

Sahab Uddin

A Quiet Sorrow

Brutally Beautiful

Dr. Ratan Bhattacharjee

Basilia

Caroline Nazareno

Jaffar Safwan

Searching A New Groom For My Country The Doctor

Nguyen Thi Kim Nagan

Graveyard Of Living

Elizabeth Esguerra Castillo

Love In The Green Wood

Iram Fatima 'Ashi'

Let Peace Reign

Gagan

Muhammad Shanzar

Neelam Dadhwal

Interview Of The Month

Praveen Gola

Index IV

The Civilized World We Liive In Eyes Without A Face Friends Of soul Look

Shahid Khan

Esguerra Castillo

Diwakar Pokhriyal

Joe P. Attanasio

Tribhuwan Kaul

Self Realization

Ramya Somesh

R. K. Verma

Under Fifteen Zone

Peace Talks

Ayush Dutt

63 Aarati Salian

Dr. Ruchida Barman

Immam (Hajji) Abdur Rahim Muhaammd

Real Heroism

Vasanthi Papu

Reflection On Peace And War Why Do I Write?

Editor Speaks

67 Jaffar

Kumar Vikrant

Sharique Jamal

Rise Of Death

Hereni Kenisha Liyange

Guidelines For Submitting Manuscripts Your Reflection

Jack's Emancipation Black Rain

Burning Threads Of Humanity Life Is A Game

Peace At Work

Art Section

81, 82

Index VI

VI I

Dear Readers, Greetings. Globally there are so many reasons to fight on, in the name ofregion, religion, terrorism, homicide, suicide, violence, killing, rape, conflicts, illness, bloodshed in the name ofwar. And just a single reason to love… that is humanity, to feel for another human… a touch by care and to connect through soul. World peace is an ideal offreedom, peace, and happiness among and within all nations and people. World peace is an idea ofplanetary non-violence by which nations willingly cooperate, either voluntarily or by virtue ofa system of governance that prevents warfare. This time we gave challenge to our writers/poets/artists to pick this topic of‘World peace’ and spread humanity and love by their creativity. And I am proudly presenting their love for humanity from all over the world through their pens. Poems by Mr. Joe P. Attanasio, Ms. Jen Walls (US), Ms. Heather Jephcott (Austria), Mr. Shahid Khan (India) Short stories by Mr. Jaffer Safwan (Saudi Arabia), Mr. Diwakar Pokhriyal (India), art work by Mr. R. K. Verma and a little boy Master Ayush. Dutt Our editor , Ms Vasanthi Papu, who is an amazing poetess gives reasons for her writing in our regular column ‘Why do I write’. An interview ofMs. Elizabeth Esguerra Castillo (Philippines) make you realize about a gentle lady who honored us by working as our advisory member too. My special thanks to all my team members ofEditors, Advisory members, writers, poets, artists, layout makers for joining us in this creative journey. Love and blessing,

Iram Fatima ‘Ashi’

(Managing Editor) (Saudi Arabia, NRI)

Innocence Jen Walls (USA) Peace is always a pure sanity blooming into soul and inside oftruth, this is what love still stands for. Our dearest humanity has such great need to enter into an eternal place ofa flowering blissful grace and thus find its healing ways to remain throughout eternity. So end now these lustful wars upon all this life's innocence. Let us beat thrashing, right into a hug for changing ugly "swords into plowshares" and growing reseeded gardens without all these weeds ofhatred!

A Tribute To Cartoonist Pran Saab R. K. Verma (India)

Pran saab is no more, I came to know about this sad news by the messages I received on facebook. I couldn't believe it. There is no single child of the seventies to till now who hasn't read any comics of ChaÂcha Chaudhary. Besides Chacha Chaudhary, we were introduced to Pinki, Billoo, Raman and Shrimati Ji, other comics characters by Pran Ji. ChaÂcha Chaudharyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s brain is faster than a computer. We came to know about this fact when the computers were not very common in India. I remember very well that I asked my elder brother about computers. He simply replied that computer was a machine which could do computation faster than a human being. This answer caused more confusion. How could such a machine be possible? The characters created by Pran Saab were all like a normal human being but witty and cleverer than a normal human. I don't

remember if there was any comics except of Pran Saab which could nurture good habits in the young children. They could learn good things simply by reading these comics. During my childhood days there were not many means of entertainment except those comics. My

During the summer vacations a number of comic book shops mushroomed out in our neighborhood. The shopkeepers used to tie several ropes in front of their shops and hanged comics on them. The rent of a comic for a whole day was five to ten paisa. That era of comics was dominated by foreign comics characters like, Phantom, Mandrake, Flash Gordon and Superman etc, but the magic of Pran Chacha Chaudhary was also ruling. During that era of foreign comics it was very hard to survive for a pure Indian comics character but Pran Sahab's characters stood stalwart before them.

meager pocket money did not allow me to purchase many comics, so I used to wait for the summer vacations, when we could hire a lot of comics to read. Reading comics was the main attraction of summer vacations.

How amazing were his characters. His thick mustache hair contains the experience of life. His stories used to tickle the elders along with the young children. Sahabi was from Jupiter, but decided to stay on earth after eating the parathas made by Chachi Ji. Chacha and Chachi used

writing his name. He used to start writing his name with Hindi word Pra but at the place of N he used to write 0I, which was equal to English numbers 0 and 1. After a number of years we came to know that his original name was Pran. We used to read his name as question number one, this style was unique. Besides his name is not a common one, there are only a few men by the name of Pran. Mentioning the name Bollywood character artist Pran is also relevant because I never came across any man by the name of Pran except him and creator of Chacha Chaudhary, Pran Saab. The sad demise of Pran Saab has created a big naught in the world of Indian comics, which is very hard to fill at the moment. quarrel all the time but big Sabu was very dear to Chacha and Chachi Ji. They didn't have any children of their own but they were Chacha and Chachi to all the children including us. Pinki, a naughty young girl, always brought new and funny problems. Billu, his eyes are still hidden behind his hair. Raman has always been late to his office. Shrimati Ji, his tiff with her husband is legendary. How wonderful was the

comic world created by great Pran Sahab, we are still in the hypnotic grip of that world. The crater of that world has left us to never return back. His stories were with a great simplicity all alike his sketches were also presented with a naivety. He never tried to give any digital effects to his sketches. He never let his characters influence with any contemporary politics. Another thing about Pran ji which is worth mentioning is, his style of

There is general trend in Indian comics world, if a comic artist dies his characters also die with him. However the situation in other parts of the world is better. The creator of Phantom died a long ago, but there were several writers and artists to take his place. Phantom is still alive, a number of writers and artists are working on his comics in the several parts of the world. Ian Fleming's James Bond is still alive, however Indian novelists

like Colonel Ranjit and characters like Vikrant and Rajan Iqbal have long gone. Why couldn't someone take them over from their creators? This is not true that India has no talents to continue these great sagas, but lack of coordination and lack of dialogue is creating this hollow. I request all the creators and writers related to the comics world to conduct some meets every year. The literature regarding this should be written and circulated.

The place of Pran Saab is impossible to fill, but we ought to ponder over the problem who will continue to work on the characters created by Pran Ji like, Chacha Chaudhary, Billoo, Pinki and Raman. The artists related to Pran Saab must be brought forward and be inspired to start working on Pran Saab characters. Long forgotten comic characters must be brought to life. The big comics publishers should also assume their duties about this subject.

When Saabu gets angry a volcano erupts somewhere, equally when Raka gets angry the ocean roars and Chacha Chaudhary's witty adventures shall always go on tickling and amusing us. I pray to the almighty to keep Pran Saab always happy. We all love him from the bottom of our heart and this love will never die.

Originally written in Hindi by R. K. Verma, translated by Kumar Vikrant.

Mirror And Man Vasanthi Papu (India)

O Mirror! Proudly you adorn the wall And reflect the outward image ofall. Be it a crowned head or slave you don’t mind But show their fading visage as designed. O Mirror! The most fragile ofall, You are sure to sever when you fall. Man handles you with utmost care Once broken there’s nothing to spare. You are sharp enough to slay a man And put an end to his brieflife span. Similar to your nature is man’s heart That can either be sturdy or torn apart. When it’s strong, man withstands any storm And reigns the entire world in the best form. With a broken heart he staggers in each phase Hindered and trapped in the life’s long race Life shatters for those with broken hearts So it’s wise to act smart before one departs. Triumph or disaster is never fixed to anyone Ifman gets to know this, life is always fun.

My Supreme Soulmate Vasanthi Papu (India) O Supreme Pen! ‘You are mightier than the sword’ With the power to make or mar life next to the Lord. A true source ofcomfort and support to the bard, You afford me peace which is the greatest reward. When tears drench my bleak eyes like a pool I pour out my emotions holding you as a tool. Then my heavy heart becomes light and cool With the verve to trounce the world and rule. Once I sit with you I gain the wisdom ofa sage And my thoughts roam free without any verge. Had I not picked you at my worst falling stage My life would have been just an empty page. You touch my imagination like a magician’s wand Giving shape to all those my intellect shall demand You are so humble that I can hold you in my hand And acquire the power to create an imaginary land. Be it a moment ofgriefor an occasion ofmirth, You are the soulmate whom I rely on this earth. Had you not shown me new visions to move forth By now I would have left with no trace ofmy birth.

Who are WE and what are WE doing? Gagan (Chandigarh, India) Let me start by asking a question. Do we really understand the difference between ‘Good’ and ‘Evil’, or we just use these terms to describe certain situations based on our perceptions? Now before I start, let me humbly tell you that everything written in this post is just my opinion. I am not trying to enforce any view point on anything. These are just some random thoughts, which I am letting out through my words. Now back to the post. Now the question posted above is philosophical, so it makes sense to discuss it a little before we draw

any kind of conclusion. I would like to begin this discussion by posting another question, How do you feel about what is happening in Gaza? Answers to this may vary depending upon, which country you are living in, your age, your religion, your occupation and your concern. There is a possibility that a 24 year old living in United Kingdom might feel different to what 47 year old will feel in Pakistan. Or, a person who works in a call centre will have a different solution to this than to a priest serving in a church, even though they both are

of same age group, residing in same country and are practicing same religion, chances are there, opinions may differ. Now, if I say that I don’t care about what is happening in Gaza, what will you think about me? Insensitive, Careless, ill informed, or who cares about whether I care or not? Again, your answers may vary depending upon, where you are from and how you feel about this situation. Now, if I add a line to the above statement and say: I have a family to look after, have some strict monthly expenses to meet

and have a sick father to take care; will your opinion change? And on this, if I further add that I am the only earning member in my family to take care of all the expenses, will this change your perception slightly? If yes, then, I ask again, do we really understand the difference between: difference between ‘Good’ and ‘Evil’. I know, at this point, all this is not making much sense but stay with me for a while and you will understand where I am taking you with all this. Before I write any further at this point, I hope I can dare to assume on your behalf the fact that our internal thoughts are governed and motivated by our external

environment.

of poverty. Out of despair and anguish, he took an I will take another extreme step that he situation and will request wouldn’t have taken had your honest opinion on things been normal. He it. ‘G’ works hard for a takes that money, buys month and earns some good clothes and deserving decent money. food for her daughter On his way back to and saves her life. Now, home, he is robbed by does that change your ‘E’. All the hard earned opinion about ‘E’? He is money is gone in a not that bad after all; he matter of few minutes. did all this to save her On the other hand ‘E’, little innocent daughter. who didn’t do a thing, is He is guilty yes, but for richer by what ‘G’ had his daughter he is no earned in the entire less than an Angle who month. What will you appeared at right time make of the story so far, with right cause. ‘E’ is bad and must be punished, perhaps yes At this point most of us but let’s continue are willing to forgive ‘E’ further. for his mistakes but what happened to ‘G’ ‘E’ is not a professional after that. He had a little thief, he lost job in hard boy at home who school circumstances and has a fees was due, his wife 7 year old girl who hadn’t was waiting for her eaten in 3 days because husband to give her

some money so that she can purchase vegetables for kitchen. This was ‘G’s’ first job in 4 months and he needed that money more than anyone else. Now, who should we point our fingers at? Can we categories ‘E’ as evil? If not, will we encourage or accept ‘G’, if he goes ahead and rob someone to rescue the situation at home. ‘E’ must have looked for job elsewhere, he would have tried hard. He waited 3 days before he ran out of resources and patience and took that step but did ‘G’ deserve this? There are several points in this story, where you would have wanted to pass your judgement in favour either person, but that wouldn’t had changed the fate of those two kids. Now again, I will raise my question: Do we really understand the

difference between ‘Good’ and ‘evil’? What is happening is Middle East, between Israel and Palestine is a part of same puzzle. People on either side of the wall want to give their kids security and food. They both want the same thing, but are denied of it. Still, the question that arise here is, should an insecurity of a father in Israel be the reason of death of a child in Palestine. Or should an anger of mother in Palestine become the reason of a blast in Israel? Both nations have their reasons; Israel justifies what Palestine had been denied. There seems no definite end to this despair. So, who is to be blamed for all this and most importantly what are we losing in all this.

Now, I have written close to 1000 words, and have given two situations, one where I used generic names like ‘E’ and ‘G’ and the other a real life situation. One had no relevance to any name, culture, tradition and geographical space, while other is visible in front of our senses. Let’s conclude this post by interpreting what is at stake. From the current situation between Israel and Palestine, let’s subtract following things based on their relevance and see where it takes us. Countries are not constant these are geographical locations that keep changing with time. What is today known as Israel and Palestine was something else 1000 years ago and will be something else 1000 years later. So

classification on the basis this is our right of Patriotism and nation identification. We are is banal. part of same unit, yet since start have found So now we are left with ways to separate and Jews fighting Muslims. If fight. This is not struggle we go back in history, we but sheer stupidity. will find that over period Imagine this, humans of time new religions fighting humans for have emerged and old humanitarian rights. have faded away. Before This is where we are Jews and Muslims also failing in our there were different understanding. World religions, which are non War 1 and 2 wasn’t existent today, so fought between nations, classification on basis of it was fought between religion is also faulty, so humans. Humans were let’s take that out as well. victorious and they were What then are we left the ones who were with is: Its human’s vs defeated. Even today, it is humans. Let’s break it a struggle between same even further. We only species. What is at stake evolved some thousand is our humanity, which years ago, before that we we are destroying every were struggling to find minute in our useless our feet on this giant conflicts. Deep in our strange blue ball. heart, we all know and understand this but no We were and are the part one is willing to exercise of same group or species. it. Yes, this is what we are;

Don’t you think that if we celebrate humanity with same passion as we do our Patriotism and religion things would have been different? We would have curbed our greed and embrace our humility. Perhaps, ‘E’ might have gone back to ‘G’ and had returned him the remainder of money. Or ‘G’ himself would have offered him some money while understanding his needs. People in Israel would have protested themselves against the demolition of Palestine and they wouldn’t havebeen any concept of greed or envy. So, my readers, who have stayed with me till the very end, I will like you to think and judge for yourself, what is ‘Good’ and what is ‘Evil’.

A Planet Of The StepÂMother Muhammad Shanazar (Pakistan) The world is busy in sports, Stadiums are jam-packed with the spectators, Their shout echoes in canopy ofthe sky, Medals are being awarded to the winners, The natives ofmy own country do not have time To see through the sufferings ofothers, The TV channels display seminars, recipes, Songs and dances to the starving nation, Just now one ofthem demonstrated in a jar ofwater How fresh egg is heavier than the rotten one. Politicians run as usual behind the power: The chair ofauthority, the maulvis have nothing To do but gather alms and charities, My own prime minister has gone With an aero-plane loaded with the crates Ofmangoes for the King ofSaudi Arabia, And other royal characters, to perform umerah Along with family, to please God and seek His blessings, leaving behind the poor masses Panting for bread, the nation is busy In ostentatious deeds, holding feasts And aftar dinners, belly befitting actions, The mosques and places ofworship are jostled By the men ofpiety dressed in rustling cloth. Operation here, operation there, operations All around, killing, killing just only killing To merely have in grips oil and minerals ofthe soil The world has become an operation theatre, Jews are busy in availing opportunity, They kill and kill Palestinians and their kids, Smash their abodes with the shells ofhigh explosives, The clouds ofsmoke rise to the Heavens, God Himselfwith the angels might be sniffing The pong ofexplosives but He sits there silent too, NATO too fights for her own interests, UNO snorts in slumber like a step-mother, She ever turns a deafear to the men ofintellect, But knows well what is to be done and what isnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t, When the proper time is to awake from the sleep, I cannot think the world will grow a better place, Worth living for my generations, for the Earth was Destined to become a planet ofthe step-mother, O! The reader, so cherish not vain hopes my brother.

Answers Beyond

Neelam Dadhwal (India) When you will become dust, and how your body has arisen out of the molehills of time will hold no significance, you will cry for the sole purpose of life, more than survival. You will watch the dirt gathering into the vein of your country, and far from the shallow cries for bread and butter, will unite. The sweet water will seem like an insolence gathering your roots, but one by one you will repel on the scales the measure of self undefined. Should you be left, will you bend before your troubles, this sky beyond and here, in its warmth will glow that you left, how you left, what you left.

Elizabeth Esguerra Castillo Professional Feature Writer/Creative Writer/Journalist/Blogger/Published International Poet Interview By: Iram Fatima 'Ashi'

Elizabeth Esguerra Castillo is a Professional Feature Writer/Creative Writer/Journalist/Blogger/Published International Poet and Author/Online English Instructor for Koreans. She is the eldest child ofthe late Roberto N. Castillo and Elisa E. Castillo, who both hail from the province ofPangasinan, Philippines, a province where a lot ofcreative and talented Filipino artists and writers come from. A graduate ofBachelor ofScience in Business Administration Major in Management at the Philippine School ofBusiness Administration in Quezon City, Philippines and another course in Computer Programming and Operations at the Systems Technology Institute in Makati City, Philippines, this once unassuming lassâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s dream was really to become a writer which she later on fulfilled because ofhard work and determination. We are really proud to have her as advisory board member ofReflection magazine.

then I already expressed my dreams of becoming a painter or a writer to my parents. I am the eldest among 3 siblings and my late Dad passed away 2 yrs. ago. I should have taken up Journalism or Fine Arts in college but then I obeyed my parents who told me to just take up a practical course to help me land in a job immediately I live in the mountainous city of after graduation and so I took up Antipolo in Rizal, Philippines just Bachelor of Science in Business less than an hour away from Administration, major in Manila, the capital city. In our city Management, after which I also which is a high place, you can find took up another course in scenic and tourist spots one of Computer Programming. which is the picturesque, overlooking view of the Manila Ashi: It's really interesting to know skyline which is more spectacular about your life. Now please share during night time when you can your writing experience - the age see beautiful and colorful lights you started writing and what from the top of the mountain. I was inspired you to pick your pen? a very timid child when I was young but was already inclined to As I have stated from the previous the arts as I love to draw, sketch, question, I was already inclined and also to compose poetry. I into writing at the tender age of 10 guess my sweet escape from the years during my grade school days. maddening crowd was expressing My late Dad was a great influence myself in these art forms. I already in my pursuit of a writing career have a vast collection of poetry for he was a self-confessed, and essays as early as grade school frustrated journalist. He loved at the age of 10. By then, writing writing and reading and maybe the and art was just a hobby for me but talent in writing, I got was from Ashi: Greetings to you ma’am! At the outset, on behalfof‘Reflection Magazine’, I would like to thank you on being family member of Reflection and for accepting my request to interview you. Please tell us something about the place you belong to, your childhood, family, education.

my late Dad for he was also a poet, a love poet. He composed and dedicated some poetry for my Mom when he was still courting her. I have published the love poetry of my Dad in my first international poetry book “Seasons of Emotions”. Ashi: Kindly tell us something about any other hobby ofyours.

My other hobbies include sketching and drawing where I use charcoal and oil pastels. Nowadays, I don’t have much time to do artworks but then prior to writing, I was already into the arts at a very young age. With the help of the new technology, computer graphics can also be created which can be used to depict poetry. I am also trying my hand at crafting

Visual Poetry, a kind of poetry which utilizes graphics and arts to convey a message together with words. An artwork entitled “Break Away” made its debut in an international anthology published in the United Kingdom along with my poetry/prose “The Weeping Desert”, which was inspired by Paulo Coelho’s “Tears of the Desert” story in his book, “Like a Flowing River’. Ashi: However, poetry is a medium to express one’s inner feelings. Is there any specific moment or event that made you write?

I can draw inspiration both from being happy or even in a depressed state. I just noticed that after my Dad died, I began composing tribute poems for him to otherwise ease this sadness of losing him. A lot of my dedicated poetry for him was published in different international anthologies. Rain also makes me weave words like magic. Inspirational call also comes after listening to the lyrics and melody of a song or after watching an inspiring movie. I can compose both poetry and prose out of these sources. Sometimes, after reading a book from a favorite author like Paulo Coelho, creative ideas come flowing in. There was a certain poem I composed which was included in my second book “Inner

Reflections of the Muse”, entitled “Sunset and Poetry” which was inspired by Coelho’s quote in his book, “Manuscript Found in Accra”. Paulo Coelho by the way is one of my writing influences and I really do look up to him. Ashi: What is your favorite topic to write on? And do you have a specific writing style?

I would consider topics about love, relationships and life as my favorite topics to write on when it comes to feature articles and for poetry, most of my poems are about love, destiny, angels, the heavens, etc. I consider myself as a modernist writer/poet and James Joyce’s “stream of consciousness” is a great influence though I have my own writer’s voice. My readers often tell me after reading a certain piece I composed that they seem to see themselves in the character of the poem and they would sometimes ask if the piece was written for them. In that case, a writer will know how effective his/her craft is once his readers are either moved or touched. There were instances wherein some would message me in private that they cried after reading my article or poem. Raw emotions – that’s what embodies a good and effective writing. Ashi: Would you like to share something about your personal life with our readers to know you more closely?

As of this very moment, I am still single but I am still having high hopes of meeting the Right Soul for me. Everything lies in God’s Perfect Time. Someone who can

understand my career as a wordsmith, someone who is supportive of my endeavors and someone who is also quite inclined to the arts so we can understand each other. I also believe that if it is meant to be and if it’s true, love would find you. Ashi: Who is your favorite writer/poet?

I have a few favorite authors, some of which are James Joyce, Stephen King, John Grisham, Mitch Albom, and Paulo Coelho and poets I love include Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Rumi, Maya Angelou, Emily Dickinson, and Edgar Allan Poe. Ashi: When did your first poem/story/novel get published? Please share your feeling ofthat moment.

My very first English poem was published in 1995 after graduating from high school in a local magazine with a national circulation here in the Philippines. I just tried to send an entry and was lucky enough to be published. There was no compensation involved but the mere fact that they have chosen to publish my work was pure ecstasy – an indescribable feeling no words can ever convey. It was also a different euphoria getting published internationally, when my first international poetry book “Seasons of Emotions” (UK) was released last January, 2013. Having a book was just a far-fetched dream when I was young and never did I imagine that I got more than I wished for. Not just one book but 17

two books with the publication of my second book, “Inner Reflections of the Muse” just this April, 2014.

the way for me to get involved in other global anthologies each year, widening my connection through a major social networking site and I am also actively contributing to Ashi: Ma’am, you are co-author to global charity anthologies. The more than 40 international poetry very first global charity anthology I anthologies in different countries engaged in was “Live Life: The like the USA, UK, Canada, Africa Daydreamers Journal”, which was and India and currently working on for the benefit of the American upcoming anthologies which Cancer Society and this anthology includes global charities. Kindly was even awarded a world record tell us about that in detail to inspire holder for “The Most Number of all ofus. Artists Contributing to an Anthology”. It was published on Right now, I have co-authored Amazon in 2012 and was also about 45 international anthologies registered at the Library of in the USA, UK, Canada, Africa, Congress in the USA. I was one of and India and still currently the lucky writers/poets whose contributing to other upcoming poems were chosen to be featured ones. My target this year is to have in this high profile anthology side 50 co-authored books and these by side with award-winning include global charities. The first writers. international anthology I was involved in was actually a collaboration of poets who Ashi: Your three poems were contributed dark poetry to a book chosen and featured side by side entitled “The Art of Darkness” and with famous and award-winning was published in the UK last 2011. authors from other countries, in It is a wonderful and overwhelming one prestigious global charity feeling to be published worldwide anthology in the USA, another in this anthology plus the fact that I glass trophy award as an was able to connect and make “Inspirational Poet” given by the friends with other foreign writers PENTASI B Historical from across the globe. This paved Forum/World Friendship Poetry Celebration held at the National Museum ofthe Philippines, November 15, 2013. Kindly share your experience with your readers.

Yes, 3 of my masterpieces were chosen to be included in the world record holder, international charity anthology in the USA, “Live Life: The Daydreamers Journal” with proceeds to be donated to the American Cancer Society. It was an exciting and exhilarating experience to be involved in such a 18

high profile global anthology, to have my works featured and to be able to extend help using my Godgiven talents. That is my mission that I have discovered – to help other unfortunate ones by sharing and utilizing my skills. I believe my gifts were not bestowed to me for my own selfish motives but to also to help other people. The PENTASI B World Friendship Poetry gave me the special award of being one of the Inspirational Poets, 2013 at the world class international event, PENTASI B Historical Forum and World Friendship Poetry Celebration held last November 15, 2013 at the National Museum of the Philippines. The said international event was attended by both local and international delegates recognizing those writers/poets/artists who continue to inspire the world around us through the power of the written word and the arts. This was the first glass trophy award given to me and never did I imagine myself being on the stage after my name was called, it’s like I was floating in mid air, gasping for breath, nearly in tears, and with an overpowering feeling of joy in my heart that very special moment. I am so deeply honored to be given this special award and I am so proud to say that I am a Filipino – a Global Pinoy

with my mission of reaching out to people around the world through the power of my mighty pen! I am truly blessed and thankful to two beautiful and talented souls the Philippines’ Father ofVisual Poetry, Doc Penpen B. Takipsilim and the event organizer, also a prolific writer/poet, Ms. Ceri Naz for believing in me and for the invaluable and overwhelming support they have given me. With this award as an Inspirational Poet, I made a vow to continue to be a living inspiration to both the young and the old, to touch lives and make a positive influence in my community and as well around the world through my works. Ashi: According to you, what are the most important elements of good writing?

for some more of your masterpieces. It can also be likened to “casting a magic spell” that your readers can be moved and be touched by your mere words. 3.Your writing must also have a “soul”. Writers should not just write for themselves alone. We have the responsibility to write pieces which should inspire our readers. There is might in the power of the pen. Even just a few words can change the life of a person within a second. Ashi: Did you always have full appreciation and support from your family and friends for your talent in writing?

It has always been my greatest dream to become a writer at a tender age. Well, at first, my For me the most important parents weren’t that supportive of elements of writing are the me to take up a Journalism or a following: Fine Arts course in college for the 1.A good write embodies the true reason that “there is no money in and sincere sentiments of the writing”- that’s what they said that writer. It must have a heart. It must time. I obeyed my parents although come from the deepest core of my heart sank and took up a one’s heart to be able to reach out business course for me to land in a readers in a way that they have job immediately after graduation. I never felt before. did finish two courses – one in Business Administration and 2.It must have a “lingering effect” another one in Computer on your readers. You must aim to Programming, had different provide good reading to your corporate jobs after that, enjoyed followers in a way that they crave the high compensation BUT there was this certain emptiness within me. I told myself after several years that I need to find myself; my niche in this world and it all went back to writing – my first love, my passion. When I had my first break in writing in a local newspaper as a News Reporter, my parents and as well as my friends felt proud of me and I was so

happy by then that I was able to pursue my dreams of becoming a writer! After my stint in the newspaper, I was able to be hired as a Feature Writer for a private company’s corporate magazine and the opportunities for my writing career came pouring in when I decided to join a social networking site where I met foreign writers/poets/artists and even publishers which led me to publish 2 books and to co-author international anthologies, among other writing projects I am currently involved in. Ashi: According to you, which poem ofyours is your masterpiece?

I consider “The Phantom’s Shadow” as my masterpiece among my collection of poetry since this piece affected many readers. They often ask me if this was written for them for they can see themselves in the character of the poem. There is a story within this poem that of a cast away in society, someone who is quite different from the crowd but who suffered ridicule and abuse. But he was able to redeem himself in the end for he realized that being different is not an illness. The weirdoes, the mystics – writers/poets/artists are often branded with being “different” just because we are a special kind, creative, imaginative, and deep people. I can also see myself in the “phantom” and like him, I was able to redeem myself and let myself fly. “The Phantom’s Shadow” is one of the 3 featured poems in the award-winning international charity anthology in the USA entitled, “The Daydreamers 19

Journal” and has also graced several global anthologies and literary magazines worldwide. It was actually a piece rejected by a magazine in the UK but I just continued to find the phantom a home which landed him in the charity anthology for the benefit of the American cancer Society. This is also my featured poem at the PENTASI B World Friendship Poetry site on Face Book. Ashi: Please share any ofyour poems close to your heart.

I will share my masterpiece “The Phantoms Shadow” to the readers of Reflection Magazine for I really love this particular poem and so here it is: The Phantom’s Shadow Through the dark night on a starless and pale moonlight He lurks from behind, nowhere to go to Just wandering the streets, hiding from the crowd His sullen face masked But beyond that scarred countenance is a dark past That continues to haunt him down. He may be aloof, be misunderstood by silly, shallow people Deep down he has a gentle heart Yet hardened by great blows he has yet to forget. In each one ofus is the phantom’s shadow Longing for more than just empathy We struggle so much to find our niche in this judgmental world To be embraced by all despite our frailties, shortcomings and flaws. Why can’t the world just leave him alone And erase the stigma ofhim being different from the rest, an outcast? Give him space to breathe, to live peacefully, have his share and prove his worth? Through the dark alleys, there is where he hides Hoping his day would finally come and can break free from the chains Like any one ofus all he wishes for is to find true happiness And all he’s asking from strangers is a little kindness Everyone ofus long to be accepted for who we are To fit in the crowd and not be left out How do we bring forth peace in this world When all we do is throw stones at each other instead ofliving harmoniously?

Poetry was just a hobby way back then but right now, I can consider it as part of my writing career. Being a poetess and/or a writer gives you the privilege to express yourself through your words to reach out to people who are not just at your side but at the far corners of the earth. Composing a poem is like casting a spell on your words to be able to touch the heart and soul of your readers. Being a poetess, I can inspire people, help them heal, and move on from a depressed state. To enjoy life, to think in a positive way, and to be a valuable person in society. Writing is my special avenue to make a great impact to the world. To be able to 20

touch lives and make a difference through my works, although it sounds like a cliché, which is the ultimate legacy I want the world to remember me for. To be not just an ordinary writer or artist, not just to be known, not just to make lots of money but to be able to impart a smile on people’s faces once they hear my name and read my works. Ashi: Share your journey about being a poetess. And tell us something about your published books, its theme and all.

It all started in grade school when I was still this shy and unassuming lass, just jotting down words that came up on my mind and expressing them in a poem. I actually still have a vast collection of older poems I am not yet able to publish. For me they are my treasures, the handwritten ones. I was able to publish one of my English poems in a local magazine here in the Philippines in the 1990s when I was a fresh high school graduate that time. I became a fullpledged and published writer/poet mid 2005 after which I experienced a lapse time in writing and had to pursue again later in 2009. In 2011, I was able to be involved in the first international anthology I coauthored in the UK, “The Art of Darkness” which showcased my dark poetry that time and this

included “The Phantom’s Shadow”. That gave me the break to collaborate with foreign writers/poets and artists across the globe after which I got involved in one international anthology to another. My connections on a social networking site paved the way for me to enter poetry competitions, win awards, and publish two international books on my own. My first international poetry book “Seasons of Emotions” was published last January, 2013 by Destiny to Write Publications in the UK after I won a publishing contract for an online competition I joined in. This book is a compilation of my personallychosen poetry I composed through the years and depicts the changing emotions and stages of life of the muse just like changing seasons. I also have included here some tribute poems for my late Dad, dedication poems for Emily Dickinson, among others. You can purchase a copy on Lulu.com. My second book, “Inner Reflections of the Muse” was just released last April, 2014 and was published by Inner Child Press,ltd. USA. It’s a special collection of my articles on life, love, and relationships, which were originally posted in my blog site, “Seasons and Reflections of the Muse”, my poetry, and quotes which includes international poetry collaborations with fellow foreign writers and poets and my quotes which appeared in my Goodreads Author page. You can purchase a copy on Amazon. Part of the sales of my two books I have pledged to donate to charity especially for UNICEF and cancer patients. I like to integrate charity with my works, to be able to give

back to the world and to God for the gift of writing He has given to me. This has been truly an enriching and wonderful journey in my writing career and I will continue to be a living inspiration to both the young and the old. Ashi: Please share your future plans with us.

I have plans of writing my third book which would be a novel this time – a science fiction novel which is one of my favorite genres. I would like to write something that is extraordinary and in which readers can both enjoy the story and learn something after that. Something that can inspire them to be better individuals. Among other future plans I have in mind is to become a motivational speaker after my stint as one of the major speakers for an international writers conference held in Lagos, Nigeria wherein I gave a talk to Nigerian writers via Skype. One of my co21

speakers in the conference, a famous motivational speaker and writer based in France encouraged me and so I am contemplating on continuously collaborating with them to pursue this other endeavor for me to be able to inspire people through my talks.

enough.” Those are my exact sentiments that I want to impart to aspiring writers out there. You just don’t make writing a “living”; it’s not just always about the money nor the fame you can get but more on the legacy that you can leave your readers. Yes, it said that we should firstly write for ourselves Ashi: We woukd love to read all but in my case, I don’t want to just your published and upcoming write for myself BUT for other books. What advice would you give people as well. My gift of words is your contemporary writers and not mine alone to keep BUT for me poets? to share and in sharing, we ultimately achieve self-fulfillment. This has been my answer to a My first mentor and editor in a similar question in another local newspaper in the Philippines magazine interview: where I worked as a news reporter If I may quote John Green, he told years ago once told me and it stuck aspiring writers “Don’t make stuff on my mind like glue forever: because you want to make money “Whatever happens, you should — it will never make you enough continue writing. You write from money. And don’t make stuff the HEART, your articles have a because you want to get famous — HEART.” because you will never feel famous When you write from the heart, your work will have a life on its own and that’s when you can easily touch your readers own hearts and lives. Do not mainly aim to produce a bestseller, build a solid fan base first, those followers who truly believe in your works, those who will support you all the way. And

lastly, follow your dreams, believe in yourself. Apply the Law of Attraction, what you perceive, you conceive. Dream it, live it, achieve it! Ashi: You are now the Advisory Board member of‘Reflection Magazine’, Kindly give your valuable views on our magazine for improvement.

Reflection Magazine itself is a wonderful and inspiring international literary magazine which is armed with a prolific and talented editorial board along with the advisory board. The diversity of cultures of the talented people who work for the magazine makes it an interesting and enriching avenue. We can continue accepting contributions not just from established writers, poets, and artists but also from aspiring ones who would like to join the literary world. Providing effective writing tips can also be a special feature of the magazine. I am truly elated to join the luster of literary giants in both Reflection Magazine’s Editorial and Advisory Board. I would like to thank you Ashi, the Editor in Chief for believing in me and for asking me to become one of the Advisory Board Members.

"Elizabeth accepting the Inspirational Poet award from the Philippines Father of Visual Poetry, Doc Penpen Takipsilim and the event organizer, Ms. Ceri Naz, another writer/poet. Photo courtesy of PENTASI B Historical Forum and World Friendship Poetry Celebration 2013".

Book Links:

"Seasons of Emotions" - http://www.lulu.com/shop/elizabeth-castillo/seasonsof-emotions/paperback/product-20615522.html "Inner Reflections of the Muse" - http://www.amazon.com/Inner-ReflectionsElizabeth-EsguerraCastillo/dp/0615996124/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1396241995&sr =1-1 Other Author Profile Links and Sites: Amazon Author Page - http://www.amazon.com/Elizabeth-E.Castillo/e/B00D94Y8KW Goodreads Page https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6869749.Elizabeth_E_Castillo Face Book Author Page - "Snowy's Secret World" https://www.facebook.com/pages/Snowys-SecretWorld/233536796670543?ref=bookmarkshttps://www.facebook.com/pages/Sn owys-Secret-World/233536796670543?ref=bookmarks Blog site: "Seasons and Reflections of the Muse" http://seasons-reflections-ofthe-muse.blogspot.com/

A Touch Iram Fatima ‘Ashi’ (Saudi Arabia, NRI) A touch, That fills with disgust, Rolls on flimsy body, To feel her sharp curves, Freezes her emotions and body, Love has gone flush… He is motivated only by lust. Don’t blame her, For her dressing and body, She is but a victim ofsick mind, She suffers whole life due to that moment, Love has gone flush… Her goodness goes gush. A hunger, For a pleasure out ofsplendor, To fulfill worldly necessitate, He aims to get her feminine body, Love has gone flush… Ruthless acts flow and rush. An ache, That her body undergoes, Travels inside her lonesome soul, Tears her into tiny pieces, She is shattered like a broken glass, Love has gone flush… Pain reflects into eyes its anger not blush. A feminine, Goes through this, When a masculine over powers, Crush petals like cadaver, Disposes her offafter his use, Love has gone flush… Insanity overwhelms, and humanity has its crush.

Let Peace Reign Elizabeth Esguerra Castillo (Philippines ) The world nowadays needs everlasting peace As wars everywhere continue to plague mankind, The greed for power and might And religious differences abound Destroying properties, killing innocent lives, What must we do to heal this ailing world But to purify ourselves first Obtain inner peace among ourselves, To let peace reign in our hearts And to bring light to our bewildered souls.

Old Lettering Sahab Uddin (India)

Shared with me all ofthy rhymes And I pledged to secrecy; Held me to thine in warm embrace And I did not look for delicacy The feeling from thy souls doth rise Mede you Helen divine, Whilst I recollect— Gets badly excited To speak after thine heart to thine I wished to offer thee the same Thine expressed with thy pen, Not alone shyness, but the antique Troy Stitched my lips to open.

I didn’t dream to be Penelope Nor didn’t I daydream to be Prince of Paris, But desire to have you in my arms sealed From across the oceans ofthe other end Whilst again I gaze at those letters Sentest to me hoping and waiting, Pull me back to that world ofglee We peeped in one another’s psyche I do not now grieve that we are apart As she still breathes in my heart; And believe me, I still care Not ofthese magnetic mails, but thine caress.

Love In The Green Wood Dr.Ratan Bhattacharjee (India) (“Ifwe surrendered to earth's intelligence we could rise up rooted, like trees. ” ― Rainer Maria Rilke, Rainer Maria Rilke's the Book ofHours: A New Translation with Commentary) The tree was swinging its head, probably in pain. Yesterday the mall owner passed out orders for cleaning the area. "Tear the roots long and deep. It is not easy; take much care for rooting them out. The order was carried out." The location was ready for the high rise mall. The last few months the flurry of activities over the area. The promoters were happy; the big business houses were on the pry for grabbing the best space in

the mall. Pantaloons, PVR, KFC and PIZZA Hut got the priority. Some belonging to Science Club and Human Rights Association raised some opposition, slogans were shouted. But there was no baritone voice of opposition anywhere. The leader of the group made a secret deal. It is a flammable world out there. He tried to convince the people about the necessity of the mall. In one public meeting he was to make the blueprint for

opposing the business tycoons, but guesses piled upon guesses, the leader did not attend the meeting that evening. The autumn twister foiled the attempt to organize the meeting in a huge way. The police commissioner gave a sound beating to some supporters of the Environment Awareness Association while the local MLA whispered,’We both appreciate that ordinary intuitions, including moral intuitions must capitulate before the clean force of

reason.’ The Commissioner was busy in collecting money from the promoters with two bottles of whisky for that night. He smiled and said in a husky voice,’we’re aiming for constructive ambiguity’. The Mall is a part of our modern social life. Eventualities have been explored over the ages by our finest minds. But Reality is Reality after all. Trees are to be cut. Bushes and shrubs are to be rooted out.’ He gave the MLA an admiring glance. The Science Club Secretary fumbled before his supporters. He withdrew a leaflet from the inside of breast pocket of his Khadi Kurta and glanced at it quickly before pocketing it again. ‘Save Greenery, Save the Trees, Save our Earth’. The leaflet makes no meaning now.

A flicker of uncertainty appeared on everyone’s face. Oleander brought a short poem which she composed last night on global warming. It was not recited in the meeting. She was going to weep not out of pain, but out of anger seething and searing inside. The world is going to stoop before the businessmen and the promoters. Nobody cares for the lovers of nature. She was weeping. Nilotpal put his arms round her and drew her close, kissing her hair, her neck and eyes, inhaled deeply.

police. Koel could not read her poem. They too rushed towards a safer place.

Urbanization is not a new thing in the present society. Promoters are purchasing plots after plots of land, destroying greenery and going for high rise complex either for residential apartments or for commercial shopping ‘I am not wiping your tears malls. There was a mango Koel, he said. ‘One day we grove near their old house. shall overcome” Nilotpal’s Koel and Nilotpal used to voice sounds louder. spend so many hours in reading, gossiping and ‘I know,’she said. She could dreaming of future. But that feel his lips brushing her. mango grove is no longer They were oblivious that they there. One hotel sprouted were among the dispersed over there. Now many foreign crowd. God saves them from cars and flower lawns being noticed. But at surround the hotel. Smoke, moments of pain and failure, dust, noise have ruined the the warm and loving company silence of the pristine of the beloved persons is location. Nilotpal was not mostly needed. Nilotpal asked Koel’s childhood mate. She Koel to read the poem on was acquainted with him in a Global Warming. The mob meeting of the Environment was being dispersed by Awareness Association. What

flair in his speech! What a dedication! Nilotpal loves greenery more than everything. One day he began his speech with a quote from Mahatma Gandhi:’Earth provides enough to satisfy every man’s needs, but not every man’s greed.” Koel liked those words. She said to Nilotpal, " You have quoted Gandhi in the most appropriate way. " “What we are doing to the forests of the world is but a mirror reflection of what we are doing to ourselves and to one another.” Nilotpal was amazed. These words were exactly like Gandhi’s. Love occurs between two souls when the stream of thoughts flows in the same direction. Koel turned an

environmentalist overnight. She could write poems for Nature and roused a love for nature like Lorca of Spain whose poetry made her love the butterfly, green grass and the smoggy skies, Majestic

Mountain and the muddy plain. Now the billboard signs hide the pines.There is no longer a bird found singing in the morning hidden under leaves. Once there were brook trout in the streams in the mountains. You could see them standing in the amber current where the white edges of their fins wimpled softly in the flow. They smelled of moss in your hand. But the selfish men for their greedy interests have skinned the country of its beauty, its riches or its romance.

Polished and muscular and torsional. on their backs were vermiculate patterns that were maps of the world in its becoming. Map and mazes which could not be put back. not be made right again. In the deep glens where they lived all things were older than man and they hummed of mystery. Nilotpal too agrees with Koel. One day he said to Koel, ‘See here is our country. Here we could cherish these natural

wonders, cherish the natural resources, cherish the history and romance as a sacred heritage, for our children and our children's children.’ That day both of them came so close. Nature makes love so full. The Forest of Arden is required for Rosalind to come near Orlando. David Thoreau once raised the question:” “What's the use of a fine house if you haven't got a tolerable planet to put it on?” But the way we are cutting the trees, rooting our

greenery, the planet will die. Koel and Nilotpal used to argue over the necessity of man, or on man’s relation to the earth. The earth can go on well without man. But man if he has to live on this planet, must have trees, flowers, butterflies. Michael Crichton in Jurassic Park beautifully argues that Earth does not care much for man. Koel insisted on hearing Crichton’s arguments.

Nilotpal exactly reproduced Crichton’s description of the indifferent Earth which is fourandahalfbillionyears old. There's been life on it for nearly that long, 3.8 billion years. Bacteria first; later the

first multicellular life, then the first complex creatures in the sea, on the land. Then finally the great sweeping ages of animals, the amphibians, the dinosaurs, at last the mammals, each

one enduring millions on millions of years, great dynasties of creatures rising, flourishing, dying away all this against a background of continuous and violent upheaval. Earth has survived everything in its time. It will certainly survive us. If all the nuclear weapons in the world went off at once and all the plants, all the animals died and the earth was sizzling hot for a hundred thousand years, life would survive, somewhere: under the soil, frozen in Arctic ice. Sooner or later, when the planet was no longer inhospitable, life would spread again. The evolutionary process would begin again. It might take a few billion years for life to regain its present variety. Of course, it would be very different from what it is now, but the earth would survive our folly, only we would not. If the ozone layer gets thinner, ultraviolet radiation sears the earth, so what? Ultraviolet radiation is good for life. It's powerful energy. It promotes mutation, change. Many forms of life will thrive with more UV radiation. Many others will die out.

Do you think this is the first time that's happened? Think about oxygen which is necessary for life now, but oxygen is actually a metabolic poison, a corrosive glass, like fluorine. When oxygen was first produced as a waste product by certain plant cells some three billion years ago, it created a crisis for all other life on earth. Those plants were polluting the environment, exhaling a lethal gas. Earth eventually had an atmosphere incompatible with life. Nevertheless, life on earth took care of itself. In the thinking of the human being a hundred years is a long time. A hundred years ago we didn't have cars, airplanes, computers or vaccines. It was a whole different world, but to the earth, a hundred years is nothing. A million years is nothing. This planet lives and breathes on a much vaster scale. But if human being is to live, he cannot be so indifferent. He must love the planet and keep it green. ‘What is a man’s role? ‘Asked Koel. ‘To live in the best possible way.’ Trees are our friends. As

long as man lives, he should take care of trees. One day human life will be extinct but the barren earth will remain. The earth if it has to live with pulsations cannot but live so without the trees. That day Koel went home

early after the lathi charge of Police. A few days passed. Much had changed. Life was not smooth. The promoters tried their best to dissuade the protesters. Parents of Koel were also concerned. Now a days politicians work in a

The meeting was convened by the Science Club. P.C. Sarkar was to show his magic to popularize plantation and afforestation. The Environment Awareness Association made all efforts to give the meeting publicity. The main speaker was Nilotpal Banerjee. Koel that day went a little early. Her Nilotpal will go abroad for two years. A long separation. She will have to continue Nilotpal’s work in India. But where is he now? The meeting was about to start. Huge gathering of people, all shouting slogans against the promoters and deforestation. P.C Sorkar came with his team. All are ready, but where is Nilotpal?

secret liaison with the police and promoters. Nilotpal may be a target, may be kept under police custody. Just give the bad name and hang him type arrangement to gag the voice of protest. Nilotpal is a brilliant student. He got

Fulbright this year. Koel and Nilotpal were to complete the marriage registration before Nilotpal goes abroad for higher studies. Koel loves Nilotpal for his love of nature, his idealism. He can die for it as she can die for him.

Nilotpal did not come. They never knew that he would never come. Koel was worried. Other speakers managed by delivering fiery lectures. All were bound by a pledge to save the greenery. Next morning the shocking news came. Koel just woke up. She read the news. The newspaper headline screams ‘Nilotpal Betrays the

Environmentalist’. It was just a column but it seemed to be a whole page of lies to Koel. She could not believe it. She read it once, twice, many times. The news was true. Nilotpal joined the promoters. He justified the necessity of the mall. The Kolkata Telegraph published an article of Nilotpal in which he justified the necessity of urbanization. What will Koel do? Will she call him over the phone? Or send messages on whatsapp? She opened the facebook page, yahoo messenger. But no way was her mind ready to contact Nilotpal. He is the betrayer. Indians accept anything, but never accepts Mir Zafar or Bibhishon. No child is named in India as Mir Zafar or Bibhishon. India hates a betrayer. Nilotpal betrays the cause, the idealist has gone astray. Koel’s head was reeling; she saw darkness all around her. For thirty pieces of silver, Nilotpal was sold like Judas Iscariot who betrayed Jesus. The phone was ringing. It was surely Nilotpal. Today is Koel’s birthday; He wanted to

wish her a happy birthday. But the unhappy Koel did not lift the receiver. Nor did she reply the greetings message of Nilotpal. She is lost or he is lost to her. Love for nature is no longer there, Koel felt she is Nature and Nilotpal ruined her, uprooted her. She imagines herself to be a tree

which Nilotpal uprooted mercilessly. Love is also uprooted. Koel looked at the empty sky. There was cloud gathering in the South West. It may be raining. Tears come trickling down her cheeks. She has lost the battle against the promoters. She is defeated. She has lost her

Nilotpal, the embodiment of idealism, in whom once she saw the best nature lover. The earth will go on as usual

whatever these betrayers of nature do to it. The earth will not stop going. Koel got ready for going to the Science Club

to give the news of Nilotpalâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s betrayal. Love in the green wood is lost in the jungle of shopping malls, multiplex

A Quiet Sorow In The Eyes Of A Young Woman (Nguyen Thi Kim Ngan (Vietnamese)

When you look into my eyes, Will you see a Christian, Jew, Buddhist or a Muslim? No, you won’t see anything. But teardrops are falling from the corner ofmy eyes, When you look into my eyes, Do you listen to my heart’s beats? All religion is for human beings I don’t have any religion but love. When you look into my eyes Will you see an empty sadness? Perhaps you won’t. You ignore it with closed soul. When you use gun to kill them Will your heart beat just for one rhythm ? Could you please stop for a second? Just to sway under sunshine and feel how precious peace is! When you take my breath away? Will you think that we are all human beings? My blood is dropping on the dust ground That is yours… your blood, my brothers.

Graveyard Of Living Basilia (India) Huge planes are hovering over my place People dead and amputated everywhere. Clouds ofsmoke didn’t dissipate over days I have no home now, no one to care. Amidst the mosaic ofcorpses and blood I find it hard to recognize my mother. Scattered pieces offlesh on roads stained red A fellow man cries “Help me, Brother!” Laden by concrete ofdestroyed building He holds me firm as I pull him out. It has become a graveyard, no place for hiding Beautiful city is wiped out in a bout. Massacring innocent lives in a whisk Remorseless, they are so inhumane People ready to rescue us are at risk Even they are killed, this is insane. Stead fast in prayers, people die, It’s only you, Almighty upon whom we rely No nation dares to question it, “why?” Alone here, united drenched in blood we lie.

Brutally Beautiful Caroline Nazareno (Philippines/Canada) Look at me see my dirt breathe with me feel these impurities, the same qualms as you smell with this deafnose the scents ofobsidian past ofstinky pees and muddy excess ofa hard-skinned immature lost self in me.

Lend me a flawless heart scrape all the gucks from this edge to harsh surfaces my own collected trash my significant cluttered hut my own topsy-turvy palace wherethe burning flame is me. I don't condemn when all the rotten flesh have fooled the expectations have ruined the inspirations have put all the blames in my amygdalaâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s rebelling eyes and somehow somewhere from my deadbolt haven from my smoky tongue is a mirror ofacceptance and the healing identity is me. I am from the blood ofgood and bad I am the fragile ace frommy own dusty carcass amidst the perfidious pages and broken pieces then silenced stream ofstrength is me.

Searching A New Groom For My Country Praveen Gola (Delhi, India) I sat in my room, was searching my country’s new groom, for her future”s fate, so that it wouldn’t be too late. As She is being raped continuously, by her neighboring country, from its arms and ammunition, As they both had a big gap of communication. Many of Her ornaments plunder, by some bloody Hunter, As He is in a mood to show His power, so as to get the new heights of tower. But my Bride also raised an alarm, to protect herself from any harm, and so in a reply, She too is losing Her charm.

Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s a fight between two mutual agreements, as once they segregated themselves for peace, but very soon this peace, is converted into a hatred grease. Wars are now becoming common between them, on some small petty issues, under which a wanton destruction took place, and losing its tissues. So perhaps my countryâ&#x20AC;?s Groom, will soon disappear, and to get a new one, she must adorn herself to reappear. Her present Groom is standing right now, to prove His manliness, and in turn of His reply, she too is losing Her happiness

These cold wars will definitely turn once, into a great fight, where thousands of innocent souls, will try to save themselves from this Human bite. And at last they will only regret, of what they have done, as wars are never fought, just for Fun. And that time, my poor bride “India” will be a widow, so I am searching a new “Groom”, so that Her fragrance ever remains. But still I am not sure, that Her new “Groom” will bother for Her protection, as every other country now a days, loses its “Peace” as a major attraction.

But still I am not sure, that Her new “Groom” will bother for Her protection, as every other country now a days, loses its “Peace” as a major attraction. Do remember , that only “Peace” makes us Human, otherwise we too are like animal souls, where fights for petty issues, play an important role. I am searching a new “Groom” for my poor Bride, if the existing one will destroy, due to its stubborn behavior, and will leave Her as a sex toy. So here I am publishing an advertisement, on World”s matrimonial site, where only those “Grooms” are invited, who have the guts to manage Her Bride.

The Doctor Jaffer Safwan (Saudi Arabia)

Once upon a time, there was a blind man who lived in a very poor, remote village. His eyes were blind but God gave him healing hands to treat broken bones. His hands were like miracles, once they were put on a broken bone, it will be healed.

He was mentally gifted and talented, and every man and woman in the village called him, The Doctor.

resulted in broken legs. Some friends of the rich man advised him to take his son to The Doctor. “You are blind," said the rich man, “How did you become a doctor?”

Fame and respect came along with his healing power. But with his simple, humble behavior, “Talent is a gift given to me he contributed all to the will and guidance of God. So in his opinion, all what he received must go back to its origin: helping the needy people alleviate their agony and building mosques for people to worship the One and only. One day, the son of a rich man got into an accident and the fatal accident

the only Giver,” said The Doctor, “and it has nothing to do with education.” He took a breath and then added, “Education might help but without talent, education is useless.” “Then how did you become a doctor?” asked the rich man again. “Four things," The Doctor immediately answered. “Talent is given by Him. He took my outer eyes but He replaced them with inner eyes, guidance from Him, practice, and help from

people in this village.” “I don't see any tools you have as the rest of the doctors would do.” “My medical tools consist of few simple things: Palm tree dates, piece of cloth, sticks, my hands and my head.” The rich man thought that the blind man was making a joke of him. But someone was there and told the rich man to let The Doctor do his job if he needed his son to be cured.

to heal,” The Doctor said to the rich man And added, “He must stay in bed for the coming two weeks and no one will remove the bandage.” “Is that all?” The rich man asked. “After two weeks, you bring your son here and I will remove the bandage.” The Doctor gently ordered.

After a week or so, the boy felt better and started to walk. His father was very pleased with the work the Doctor had done to his son.

In few hours, The Doctor did a fantastic job. With his master hands and inner eyes, he put the broken bones together, and then he covered the legs with a bandage of Palm dates. Also he supported the dates with sticks and wrapped them with a piece of cloth. “Your son needs two weeks

He decided to give the Doctor a big sum of money.

then gave it back to the rich man. “I don't take money for my work. I do all my work as a gratitude for “Doctor, thank you for the God's miracle He invested it work you had done to my upon me to help people. son. You are the master.” You can take your money He stopped for a moment to and give it to the needy see the effect of his words people as a charity. In this on the Doctor but the life, we don't own anything Doctor was busy working even ourselves. It is all on another man trying to from Him and must go fix his broken finger. back to Him. Money can't take you to heaven or to “This sum of money is for hell. Make sure, that you, Doctor.” And he everything you do in this placed them politely. life will lead you to the right and straight path that will end into paradise.” The Doctor's touched the money with his hands and The rich man murmured, quoting Prophet Muhammad “Do for this life as if you live forever, and do for afterlife as if you die tomorrow.” He took the money and distributes it among the needy people in the village, thanking God for healing his son and for the advice he received from that simple, humble Doctor of that village.

The Civilized World We Live In? Shahid Khan (India) What kind of civilized world do we live in? Where wars have become barbaric than ever Where killing women and children is no more a sin The lust for power has crossed all heights Aggressors choke humanity, day and night And propagate lies as if it is their moral right. What kind of development we brag about? Yes, there is a lot of truth, still I have some doubt The killing machines have done more harm than good They bring devastation everywhere with ferocious attitude Years of constructive hard work goes down the drain With explosion of bombs that numb the brain. What kind of education and knowledge have we gained? Where injustice rules and innocents are chained Despite knowing everything, all we do is just sympathize And allow the demon of barbarism unhindered rise To save our skin, we don’t speak, see or hear And let violence rule as result of our fear. What kind of advancement have we done? When from the gory past we are not ready to learn Learning the art of winning hearts is a distant dream All we know is shedding blood like a perennial stream When we’ll learn – “Divide and Rule” is a devil’s tool While “Unity is Strength” is a golden rule.

Eyes Without A Face Elizabeth Esguerra Castillo (Philippines ) I suddenly jumped out ofa mysterious lingering dream that seems to be haunting But didn’t quite leave me out screaming, A wandering eye scans the vast space in time reflecting with a weary stare quite saddening. Through this crystalline mirror I witnessed how the world came to be How it was created by the invisible hand ofour loving Almighty Out oflove He gave life to things that are meant to be magnificent, stunning and carefree, That’s the genesis ofit all but look at how terror in this once peaceful paradise now reign People inflicting each other incessant pain, What happened to this once beautiful Earth His masterpiece? Can we ever find harmony and eternal bliss? These eyes without a face out ofthe blue started to weep As slideshows ofevil doings ofmankind flashed before my very naked eyes, I suddenly felt pain piercing from a deep part ofme But what can I do alone amidst all these misery? Mercy for myselfand my brethren came overflowing this heart ofmine Staring at these teary eyes I begin to question myself Have I done my fellowmen good? Although different predicaments were not at times fully understood Have I fed the hungry, offered shelter to the homeless, listened to a weary lost soul And be a friend to someone who feels alone amongst crowds ofhypocrite people. A beaming light then blurred these eyes without a face As an angel stepped down from a heavenly pedestal lead me to a room With immaculate white walls and shiny crystal ball at the center ofthis sanctuary I was asked to take a peak at what our Earth used to be covered with greeneries, Clear, blue skies and all are in dire harmony. No drought, no deadly floods claiming innocent lives at a snap No bombings, no power struggle for supremacy, everything was so simple then But as man acquired advanced knowledge and skills He became self-centered, rude and discontent, We are our brother’s keeper and Mother Earth is our responsibility Not just a refuge, a shelter but the heaven’s gift to mankind.

Friend of soul Diwakar Pokhriyal (Delhi) Where is the pain? I am a carrier ofsmile, Symphonic painted fire, I am a synonym ofbeing agile, I am not a jewel or desire I am peace ofmind, Freedom ofumpteen skies, Giving eyes to a blind, A saviour ofglee and hope, A friend ofevery soul, A stupendous actor oflife, Ready for every single role, I transcend the boundaries, Created by mislead humanity, Inside the heart ofartists, I am that chaste creativity, I am a smile ofchild, Affection ofthe dears, I am that ray ofhope, That touches you when deadly mist clears.

Look Joe P. Attanasio (USA)

Take a good look around you, Fear the truth of what you see. Our world is in constant turmoil, Full of unrest like an angry sea. A single thought floods my mind, I struggle with the question, why? We are all sisters and brothers, Yet we hate and make up lies. We have been taught to feel like this, By listening to voices not our own. We are influenced by all the media, We believe whatever we are shown. We live our lives like hypocrites, Pretending to be what we are not. It is time we listened to our hearts And love all people like we ought. Each of us can break the barriers, That keep us strangers and apart. Refuse to blindly hate each other Let us give humanity another start.

Peace At Work Tribhawan Kaul (India) Understanding and love make peace work Human DNA though cannot be banked upon War mongers keep selling their wares Will to survive too dares hawks to strike Fire unable to differentiate Hate taking over the senses Visible become the scars on humanity Yet dawn doesnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t wait for darkness to flee Love makes survival a better option Understanding paves the way for smooth transition War becomes the casualty, peace rejoice and fly Like a dove flees from the cage ofinhibitions To soar in the vast sky.

Self-Realization Ramya Somesh (India)

Self-Realization is something that we do not often come around. So what exactly is this self realization? Anyone may answer it in a single line that it is the realization of one's own self." Although this answer partly holds true there is another question which arises from the answer. Is it realizing of one's physical self or spiritual self? Obviously, itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s the combination of both. Only when you discover your physical self you can achieve spiritual self.

very hard especially when your surroundings annoy and irritate you. But once when you start to make peace with them, you will automatically start to feel peace within you.

We once lived in a house where our neighbors had an adorable dog. I started to develop a feeling of hatred towards this dog as all my friends started to spend more time with it. This made me feel lonely. So, I decided to see whatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s really with this dog that made him so adorable. The next day, So where does self realization really sprout when I offered some biscuits to it, it started to from? Its roots are inside us, but its growth is wag its tail. Whole day long, it followed me shown outside us. It starts to begin within you wherever I went. I started to develop an infinite when you discover the purpose of your life on love towards it. My neighbors would even allow earth and start to work towards it. Once cannot me keep the dog in my house for several days. As easily achieve self realization. It is a very long days rolled by, my hatred gradually turned into process where one needs to constantly analyze boundless love that I ended up buying a cute little themselves, their needs, their purpose and arrange puppy!!! them according to their priorities. Although this incident has taken place years In doing so, this regular process weeds out the ago, this has left me an impression in my heart unnecessary desires and other low priority goals that once we start to make peace with our in your life. In short, it filters the impurities in surroundings, we tend to love ourselves and your mind, thus allowing you to move to a higher gradually, we tend to love our surroundings. This esteem in all aspects of life. To achieve this, one self realization in me had made me to travel has to make peace with oneâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s surroundings. through many phases of life and has taught me Making peace with your surroundings is really many new lessons in life.

Woman Series By

R. K. Verma

I have a tendency to observe contemporary Indian society closely. I travel a lot, my j ob takes me to places so I observe people around me.

Recently I observed a very strange change in the Indian society. I saw a number of married couples, astonishingly the age of most of the brides was hardly 1 6. Their grooms were also barely 20 years of age. Most of these couples were from the middle class section of Indian society. I must admit that I had no

courage to ask them how come they got married at this tender age. Most of the couples were not capable of assuming the duty of a mother and father. I even wonder if the groom was capable of looking after his bride. Some of the couples were seemingly happy, but in most of the cases the bride seemed lost in her thoughts. I pondered over this situation for a long time and came to a conclusion that the parents of the bride got rid of her by simply getting her married. The country is going through a very critical stage where the girls

are not safe at any age. There is a rape recorded every 20 minutes. And the reality is worst, most of the parents of the girls keep quiet and compromise with their situation. And in most of the cases they just try to get their daughter married. They think this is the only solution to marry their teenage girl. But sometimes the rape victims are innocent girls who fall below five years of age. In most of the cases the rapists kill these innocent girls, but if the baby girl survives anyhow, she will always have some medical issues all her life. Some of these girls shall never be able to reproduce. 55

Besides, there are several rackets going on, where girls are either sold and purchased as prostitutes or they are sold to a specific region of India where the gender ratio is at a very critical stage. People purchase girls for their unmarried sons and keep them in their houses as a slave. So we live in a country whose leaders always talk big and they cannot make any law to eradicate this slave trade.

Another racket which I must mention is, making mms of girls and selling them at a very high price. There are several gangs which contact school and college boys to bring them such mms. Besides some racketeers depute handsome boys to trap girls into their love trap which result into another mms for some sites. The irresponsible media treat these issues as some spicy news for their channel/paper. As a result the parents of girls become aware of these evils and they simply want to get rid of the responsibility of their 57

girls and they get them married at a very tender age. They simply treat the girls as a burden and try to get rid of this burden as soon as possible. But do they know that the married women are also not safe in this country. The government introduced a new law after the Daminy incidence but the people who are responsible to enforce this law are incompetent and corrupt. Recently I had to work with some police officers for a month or so. One day someone told that the rapists are rampant all over the county and girls are not safe anywhere. I know there is no use of discussing this matter with any Indian police officer, they always come up with same foolish answers. But I asked him about the increase of rape case all over. He simply told me that most of the cases were false. The women filed them to extort money. I asked him about the minor girl victims. He again told me that parents of minor girls use these tactics to earn some extra money.

I thought it was useless to talk to him more, but I asked him if he had a daughter. When he told me that he had one I asked him if his girl was safe anywhere in India. He was speechless. He had no answer. The country where most of the government officials are corrupt, the police is incompetent. How can the parents of girls think that their daughters are safe? They simply want to get rid of their daughters by marrying them. I'm not talking about the 15 percent fortunate parents who can afford to keep their daughters safe with the help of their money, I'm talking about the majority of 85 percent population, 59

which reside in rural or semi urban areas where the rapists are rampant and living among them. All alike me our magazine artist was also confused by the theme of the September issue. World healing, is a broad term which covers a lot of social and world issues. We discussed in this matter and Verma agreed to make the front and back covers of the magazine, but not a single painting after that regarding this theme. I requested him to make another series on 'Indian Women, which he did for us and did it very well. 60

We all appreciate the beautiful paintings/pictures/movies of beautiful women, but we never learn to respect them and keep them safe. The men who misbehave with a woman/girl/minor girl is the biggest enemy of humanity. He must be punished. I never say that violence is the solution to any problem, but sometimes when a beast becomes a Maneater, the government sends hunters to kill that Maneater. So why should these human beasts be left? They should also be punished in a way that no one try to follow them. 61

The reference of Gulab Gang is also important in this context, I salute the leader of this movement Ms Sampat Pal Devi, who has gathered a number of women to remind the government its duties towards the women of this country. This moment is at the initial stage but I know this movement will soon be all over India and the women folks of this country shall be able to get their assailants punished in a lawful manner and their parents won't be forced to marry them at a very tender age. They shall be brought up in a decent manner by their parents.

Kumar Vikrant

Under 15 Zone Painting By

Ayush Dutt (India) Age 14 Years

Burning Threads Of Humanity Aarati Salian (Manama, Bahrain) You say I am completely wrong I say you are not at all right. We fling expletives about, whether it is a big or small fight. Draining in the mighty sorrows , is not a particular man or a woman. But a pained ; crumbled victim of, the foundation called Human. Divided , stay the people, in this poor modern world. Not a single word oflove or a sign ofkindness hurled. We continue walking this path ofbroken needles and thorns. Bearing the heavy burden of torture and insults ofan era bygone. Will this never end , will the world not see a brighter , new tomorrow? Do we have to make a generation ofpeople , emotionless and hollow? At this hour , we need a miracle to touch the burning threads ofhumanity, to build a new life for the unborn , so that they live happily , with dignity. Now is the time to come together , to hold the hands ofmany lost brothers and sisters. Let's make a promise to be strong and real , so that the world doesn't suffer another bloodied struggle.

Life is a game Dr. Ruchida Barman (Jaipur, India) Life is a game ofSnakes and Ladders One moment you are victorious, happy and on top ofthe world And the next you are defeated, low and down in the dump Life is a game ofchess One move wrong and you are lost forever No retrieving back Life is a game ofsnooker Requiring your finesse at every step Crudeness and openness not forgiven Life is a game ofcards Where options have to be selected carefully A wrong choice costs dearly What a strange thing Life is a game but the game is not carefree rather to be played with extreme caution So why not take up the challenge, and play the game? Let's enjoy the challenge and live each move to the fullest Let's play by the rules and come out shining like winners.

Peace Talks (And, so much more…) Imam (hajji) ‘AbdurRahim Muhammad (Texas, USA ) We know, Peace is more than the absence ofwar And love is much more than the absence ofdeath So much more… How long would it take for us to say, “Every Human Life Is Sacred” in every tongue, Seven and a halfbillion times? Could it take a life time? Or so much more? And, in that time, no one could die At the hands ofanother? No fair, filling the air with bullets, rockets, and bombs Staining the walls ofhouses ofworship With the blood ofthose who simply came to worship. Death in the name ofGOD? The King? The temporary ruler?

Will it take GOD to tell us when to STOP? Or, Can we do more? So much more? Why talk when we can kill? What Reason? People all over the world fighting, dying For a just cause – or “just because”? Would reason be treason? Before we pave over our Paradises For the comfort of the comfortable, Remember! The Author of Love, Space, and Time Who keeps the Galaxies and each dove and every sparrow alive. Can we clean out the prisons of our minds? Open the jails, and let the criminals IN? Close the palaces, and let all the enslaved be free. Shalom! Salaam! True Peace! Real Peace! Starting with those closet to you? And keep going? Right here? Right now? Can we show what love looks like? We could, we can, we will Shake up the world!!! And So Much More…! Talk, Peace, TALK!

Real Heroism Vasanthi Papu (India)

O’ friend, why do you think of revenge and murder? Do tell me what made your tender heart so harder? None has the right to wipe out precious life and art And God never forgives a man with a vicious heart. You say your foe is a wolf in a sheep’s cloak And he has to be stabbed in a single stroke. To show your wrath if you sharpen your knife You welcome nothing but an endless strife. Plotting evil schemes taints your lovely day, Trouble gets doubled with every word you say. With the weapon you take, you dig your grave Do not fall into the pit and die as Satan’s slave. Feeling of bitterness and disgust daub your mind It’s wise to forgive, forget and treat him kind. Real heroism lies not in showing your sturdy arms But in winning his heart with your subtle charms.

Reflection On Peace And War

"Healing" My own soul I preach for peace and not for war I am human Not a killer I don't fake myself In the name ofdemocracy Or in the name ofreligion Or color or race. Not even in the wealth ofall nations Can ever stop me from engraving on my door "Peace". Let peace be my own ultimate goal. I deplore injustice, inequality But I also deplore killing one human soul We are all human beings in the eyes ofGod Let Him and only Him judge who is the best ofus all. â&#x20AC;&#x153;Healingâ&#x20AC;? my own soul I only sing my lovely songs For people who dance on my floor Hand in hand, heart to heart. We can make our human unity, our only score Let us cherish the guidance ofour Creator And our enemy, the Satan, we deplore Our ego, our selfishness, our greed Can we overcome them from shore to shore? We are human, weak and we get easily hurt. Here comes the healing when we think ofour origin The dust, the sperm And to that we will go back again, so do not uproar. Life is only a path to another life Where we all will be accountable For killing or for caring For love or for hatred Let us come to our own senses And heal ourselves from the satanic acts. Life is to live it in love and peace Life is not hatred and envy. I call upon you all brothers and sisters To sing with me for peace and not for war.

WHY DO I WRITE? Vasanthi Papu (India)

I am blessed with the profession I like the most which is teaching. Earlier I had penned some poems and acrostics just for some celebrations at my work place. I have been greatly complimented by my colleagues for my creations but I felt they made such remarks as they had high regard for my teaching skills. I composed poems and skits only out of some necessity. But in December 2012, all of a sudden a thought struck me as why shouldn’t I share my poems on Booksie and get to know the readers’ feedback. Thus I started writing on booksie with the link www.booksie.com/angelin. A word of appreciation can create marvels. The constructive feedbacks I gained from the readers stimulated my spirits to pen more and directed me towards more daring and compelling work. Since then I have been writing for my own contentment and pleasure. Writing has now become my pastime activity which gives me a kind of tranquillity. It is quite often said that creative work yields the best fruit only when the mind is calm. But I have

composed many poems only in times of stress and depression. Writing helps me come out of worldly stress and enter into a world of bliss. It keeps me engrossed and thoughtful. When I sit with my pen I am never left alone. In fact pen has always been my best companion. Poetry is a mirror which reflects one’s inner self and most of my works are my real life experiences. It is better to write about things felt in reality than those imagined for they come out exceedingly well. The thing which bothers me the most flashes upon my inward eye and gets its shape as a poem. Never in my wildest dream did I think that I would be the editor of a reputed literary e-magazine. The poems I shared on booksie and facebook have earned me such an identity. Thanks to my friends and reflection family for their kind support which keeps my fervor exertive to soar high with confidence.

Jack's Emancipation Kumar Vikrant

MOPH

Jack's Emancipation Colonel Pass: A Dangerous Plan

1 'Will it be as easy as you described?' asked Jagga uneasily driving his car to the Colonel pass, the outer police check post where the rest of their men will be a part of the convoy of other vehicles. 'You are an idiot Jagga,' said Jugal looking straight into the eyes of Jagga. ''Because only an idiot asks such a stupid question.' 'Are you sure they will be in that car?' asked Jagga again. 'Look, she would be engaged to that fool Rohit this evening in that country farm house owned by her billionaire father and after the engagement ceremony they would be leaving the farm house to the city,' said Jugal with confidence. 'And on their way back to the city they will certainly pass through the Colonel Pass and that will be our chance and place to nab them.’ 'I agree but Colonel Pass has always been considered as an unsafe passage,' said jagga avoiding looking at Jugal. 'And they allow people to travel in the form of a convoy all through the night guarded by the police.' 'How many policemen?' asked Jugal. Only two, we know how

to take care of them.' Jugal answered himself. 'What about that old Jack? asked Jagga uncomfortably. 'He always trails behind the convoy with a gun.' 'Forget about that old coot Jai Kishan alias Jack,' said Jugal mockingly. 'I have enough men to take care of him too.' he said further. Jugal, the young man in his mid twenties, was befriended by Madhu the only daughter of Billionaire Chinoy a few months ago. He had a hope that someday she will marry him. And he'll enjoy the company of beautiful Madhu and her father's enormous wealth. But as an average Indian girl, Madhu decided to marry according to her father’s wish. And now she was getting engaged to the boy chosen by her father. And her former lover Jugal was calling someone to ensure that all their weapons will be delivered to them in the middle of the pass en route to Will City. 2 'Who allowed this fool to follow the convoy?' asked the younger policeman to the older one,

while waiting for a few more vehicles to gather in the pass. 'None, but there is no law to stop him following the convoy.' answered the older policeman irritatingly. 'He is an armed man, check his weapon license, get them canceled and put him behind the bars.' suggested the younger policeman enthusiastically. 'Keep your advice to yourself.' said the older one angrily. 'Do you know anything about him ?' 'He is guarding this pass for the last twenty years, he is a Prime Minister Bravery Award holder.' 'Prime Minister Bravery Award holder?!? 'Yes, which was awarded to him for saving a number of younger school children from the kidnappers.' 'How come that happened?' 'Look he is a senile man, who is looking for the imaginary killers of his wife and daughter, who were abducted and killed by some outlaws twenty one years ago here at the Colonel Pass. The older officer stopped for a while and said further, ‘ He started roaming from one police station to another in a hope that the police would get those killers, but those outlaws could never be caught,’ heaved the 71

older policeman. ‘Amazing.’ mocked the younger one. 'What is so amazing?' asked the older one. 'Isn't it amazing that the police couldn't catch those murderers?' 'Nothing is so funny about it, don't you know this infertile land grows more guns than the eatable grains? answered he. 'What do you mean?' 'There was a time when robber gangs used to come out from nowhere overnight, there used to be more than fifty robber gangs around this area; who knows which one abducted and killed his wife and daughter? 'Pity on him.' 'Besides, there were so many gangs which were wiped out by the police and some of them surrendered also; so there was no way to know that the bandits who were killed or surrendered, were abductors and killers of his wife and daughter?' The older one paused for a moment and continued, ‘Later that fool bought a farmhouse near the pass, where he rears horses but never sells them, all the day he is on a horse back and roam through the rugged wilderness of Kali valley; maybe in a hope to get those 3 'What's wrong; you look so gloomy?' Said Madhu, looking at her fiance who was a sober looking young man whose

imaginary killers someday.’ The younger one got distracted and yawned. But the older man went on, ‘But instead of them once he found a school bus being kidnapped by some bandits near river Kali, he intervened and there was a historical fighting, several rounds of bullets were fired from both the sides and this fool somehow managed to kill the leading kidnapper and got all kidnappers seriously injured.’ The older man stopped for a while and went on again, ‘ He tied and dragged all of the bandits behind his jeep before handling them over to the police, all the children were safe and their parents forced local politicians to recommend his name for a Prime Miniter Bravery Award, he got famous. He was awarded the Prime Miniter Bravery Award but he didn't go to receive the award.' said the older one by taking a deep breath. 'Why didn't he go to receive that award?' ‘Who knows?, What more would you expect from an aged fool, who is always on his horse back roaming through this vast wilderness in a hope to find Colonel Pass: The Target

mobile was ringing constantly and he was avoiding it. Madhu a tall girl in her early twenties, white complexion, feature sharp; tried to peek at his

some imaginary killers, and trailing our convoys all the night in his battered jeep, who seldom speaks, I never saw him talking to anybody, one thing is remarkable after that event colonel pass became a safe passage; now even petty criminals avoid any encounter with this lunatic.' 'Lucky idiot.' heaved the younger one. 'When that idiot has checked all the criminal activities in this area, what the hell are we protecting this pass from? asked the younger one. 'I said only petty criminals are afraid of him; besides the big criminals are more organized now, they don't need to kidnap someone for ransom they just extort money from the rich people by threatening them.' 'I see!' 'Besides they are making more money in the drug trafficking.' The younger one was totally distracted now, he was just overhearing the preaching of the older one. Suddenly there appeared a Fortuner and several other expensive vehicles and the police check post in charge waved at that big SUV. mobile unsuccessfully. Their SUV was approaching to the outer post of Colonel Pass, the deserted 60 km long dusty road through the wilderness.

'No dear, it's alright.' Said Rohit the only hair of Raghav Group Of Industries, briefly looking at the number flashing through the screen of his mobile. 'We hardly know each other, otherwise I would haven't asked this question.' Said Madhu. 'It takes time but I hope you'll never regret your father's decision.' Said Rohit. The farm house party was just a friend gathering otherwise they were engaged last week in the presence of their parents at Will City, their home city. The farm house party was the idea of Madhu which Rohit accepted reluctantly. Soon they stopped at the outer check post of Colonel Pass. Rohit got busy on his phone and Madhu peeked out of the car, there was another SUV in front of them and the policemen were checking it. After a few moments a cargo truck stopped slowly behind their SUV, the rustic driver jumped out of the truck and started checking truck's tires by banging them with an iron rod. Suddenly Madhu saw a man in khakis sitting in a battered and ages old open Jeep on the other side of the road. The green color Jeep was resembling to his own physical condition. His wrinkled boney face was indicating his age, he may be in his mid fifties or so. The tall

man was sitting in the driving seat of the Jeep and his right foot was resting on the ground. A gun was lying next to him which was making that man look more freaky. He was staring at the emerging traffic at the outpost. The outpost police in charge waved Rohit out of the car. Rohit went out and Madhu again tried to look at the old man. He was still there but out of the jeep talking to someone on his mobile. After a brief conversation with the in charge, Rohit came back. 'What was it, what did they want? Said Madhu. 'Nothing, just a routine check, they informed me that we have to travel in a convoy all through the pass.' Rohit said. Madhu shrugged her shoulders.

smile. 'Where will be the hold up begin? Said Jagga. 'At the 20th mile's stone.â&#x20AC;&#x2122; Said Jugal.

5 It was just another summer evening, just getting a bit little cool after the scorching daytime heat. The check post in charge was barking instructions to the drivers of the convoy through a megaphone. 'Drive at the speed of 50, no overtaking.' The convoy consisted of at least two dozen cars and almost the same number of commercial vehicles. The in charge checked the time 07:30 in the evening and he waved off the convoy. Two policemen were leading the convoy in a police car. The vehicles started moving slowly 4 and the in charge went on Jugal saw the Fortuner and waving them. Soon almost all confirmed that Madhu was the vehicles passed but the sitting in it. green Jeep on the other side of 'So far so good,' He murmured. the road was standing still. He fished out his mobile and 'So slow tonight?' Said the in dialed a number and waited for charge looking at the old man getting it connected and started sitting in the Jeep. talking to somebody But the man didn't reply, he just ambiguously. waited for the last vehicle to 'Everything is just going as it pass and started his Jeep and was planned, Raka and some of moved slowly behind the last his men are just in front of that vehicle. Fortuner, rest of his men are in 'Stubborn idiot, how do I bear the mini cargo truck just behind him?' Cursed the in charge. the Fortuner.' Said Jugal with a 73

6 The Colonel Pass, a part of a vast river Kali valley normally represents the rich cultivated land of this area. Otherwise the rest of the valley is just an expansion of the 500 km infertile rugged lands. These parts consisted ofWill City, Colonel Pass and Its adjoining areas are known as the golden triangle. Good harvests and various flourishing trades are the factors for the wealth of this area. The rest of the valley is uncultivated rugged wilderness; the labyrinths of the valley have been providing shelter to criminals for a long time. This deserted belt of the valley is full of zigzagged ravines providing safe shelters to interstate gangs

of dacoits, which mainly indulge in kidnapping for ransom. As soon as the convoy crossed first km of the 60 km journey of Colonel Pass every driver tried to overtake the vehicle in front of it. And soon almost every car and SUV were racing to overtake every slow or commercial vehicle. Madhu saw Rohit was busy on his phone and their driver was driving with patience. At the check post she had a glimpse of that rascal Jugal, who played with her sentiments for a long time but showed his true colors very soon. Jugal has a charming personality which he uses to trap girls, he instinctively flirts every girl he

meet but all his promises of love, were fake. Meanwhile her uncle Suresh, brought the alliance of Rohit before her father. Her father asked her for her consideration. She had been cheated in love by Jugal, she had a little hope of true love in her life now. She told her father that he knew what was better for her and she would respect his decision in the matter of her marriage. Her father discussed the matter with his younger brother, her uncle. A meeting with Rohit was fixed, Rohit sounded a nice guy. Finally after a brief discussion the date of engagement was fixed. Suddenly she came out of her reveries and saw the rushing vehicles which were overtaking them.

Kali Velly: Execution Of The Plan

1 Just after the 20 km there was a sharp turn. The cargo truck following Fortuner stopped all of a sudden and the traffic following it was also forced to stop. Some of the vehicles started honking. The driver and other people sitting in that cargo truck jumped out of it. One of them with a torch in his hand, rushed to the roadside bushes and started searching for something. Soon he found a satchel and he dragged it out of the bush and opened it. It was full of guns, hand guns and

hunter knives, rest of men from truck acted hurriedly and distributed weapons among themselves in a unison. All of it happened just in 30 seconds and now they were running towards the 20th milestone.

hitting the glass of their SUV windows and just in two blows he was able to break the driver and passenger side windows glass. Another two armed men forced their hands into the broken glass and got both the windows opened. The driver of Suddenly Madhu saw the SUV the SUV was dragged out by going ahead of them came to a one of them and an armed man halt and their driver was also took his place. Likewise two forced to stop. Some men armed men got into the jumped out of that SUV and ran passenger seat and kicked the towards them. There were other bewildered Rohit out of the armed men who came from SUV. It all took only one behind, one of them who had a minute and soon the SUV was hammer in his hand started being driven into the rugged

wilderness of the river Kali Vally. Madhu was screaming in fear, it all happened so quickly that she couldn't make anything out of it, she was just screaming in terror. 'Keep quiet darling this is just me, your lost love.' The man sitting beside her said in her ear. She identified Jugal's voice clearly. Jugal pulled out a chloroformed cloth from his pocket and put it over her face. She felt the pungent smell of chloroform and lost her consciousness. Jugal put her slump body slowly on the seat. He saw out side of the car their Scorpio was running ahead of them. Just after a few km on their way they saw there was another Scorpio standing in the middle of the alley. The driver of the Fortuner pulled in and stopped it in a way in between the alley that no other vehicle could pass through the alley. All of them jumped off the Fortuner and rushed towards the standstill Scorpio, Jugal had Madhu in his arms. Soon they were on the other Scorpio and resumed their journey on this new vehicle.

kidnapping spread like wildfire and everyone was panicking now. Soon the police car came back and both the officers came hurriedly towards Rohit and started interrogating. He told them everything which happened a few minutes ago. One of the officers started talking to his superiors on his walky talky.

standing near the truck and their allies have gone along with the remaining traffic. Suddenly the police officers heard the horse hooves sound and Jack emerged from the darkness riding his horse. 'Those city stalkers won't be able to go far in those heavy vehicles, I'm going behind them, send some help.' Jack said in a hoarse voice and rushed in the direction of the fled 3 vehicles. The Scorpio was speeding away 'This idiot will never leave us from the pass for the last 40 alone.' Said the young police minutes and the Jugalâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s SUV officer. was following it. Soon they 'What will he do?' Said Rohit, were near silty waters; a standing astonished. He has tributary of river Kali which gained his senses so far. mainly carries industrial waste 'Get us all into the hell.' Said the ofWill City. It was planned that older officer. they would drive along this 'What are you waiting for? Why stream to Will City's outskirts. don't you start searching them? They have an abandoned Said Rohit angrily at the stupid building there to hide along answer. with the girl until their desired 'We didn't advise you to have ransom paid. The driver knew fun in this jungle, now get ready about the eroding soil of this to face the consequences.' Said area, he knew once he left the the young officer. trail he would be stuck into the 'What?' eroding soil. He slowly put the 'Don't worry we are just waiting heavy SUV on the alley along for the combing party to arrive.' the tributary and drove. But the Said the older one, while trying Jugal driver couldn't show this to penetrate through the skill, he took a sharp turn and darkness of night. 2 Both the SUVs have gone into got stuck into the eroding soil and mud. the rugged wilderness of the 5 valley. People started gathering 'What the hell is going on? Said 4 near Rohit who was calling Jugal irritatingly. someone on his cell phone. The The truck had been moved to 'We are stuck in the loose soil.' the side of the road and traffic Said the driver helplessly. driver has told everyone that some people have kidnapped his started moving ahead slowly. 'Couldn't you drive carefully? Both the police officers were mistress. The news of the The driver kept his cool, 75

shifted the gear and pushed the accelerator slowly. But the vehicle didn't move. 'Get to pull it out.' Said the driver By now the another Scorpio has also stopped a few meters ahead. Jagga came out of it with rest of the men. He came near the SUV and understood everything. 'Bring a rope,' He said to the

nearest man. Soon one of the men was tying a rope to the front slot of the SUV and the rest of the men were standing outside of their vehicles. Suddenly there was a faint sound resembling to a thunder and it was growing every passing moment. Soon the sound got more clear, it was a sound of several horse hooves

which were running in unison. Jugal sensed the trouble and shouted. 'Get ready we are in trouble.' All the ten men became alert and their grips on their weapons became tight. He heard the horse hooves getting closer and shouted, 'Firrrrrrrre...........!'

Kali Velly: Massacre At Silty Waters

6 Jack was riding through the darkness on his old and faithful horse Duke. He was perplexed to see some city goons sitting in a Scorpio and in a cargo truck. He immediately knew that something bad was about to happen. So he called up his farm manager to bring Duke and some ammo at the 20th mile turn. He knew that turn may be the place for any trouble. And he proved to be right, now he was on the trail of that abducted Fortuner and goons' Scorpio. He knew those city slickers were just fools to rush into this rugged wilderness, they will certainly try to find their way back to any human habitat and nearest was Will City. They will have to find out Silty Waters Stream to go to Will City. He was well versed with all the trails of this valley and soon he

was very close to that stream. Suddenly he heard ears deafening noise produced from several running horse hooves behind him. He forced Duke to the sideline and eloped into a nearby ravine.As soon as he left the trail a number of horse riders with guns passed, they were going in the direction of Silty Waters. He got down from the horse and patted him to keep quiet. He jumped up and find a hammock and in a few moments he went up on the hammock. Silty waters was in his sight and there were some confused human shadows also.

also shot under his belly, he fell down and now he was writhing on the ground. Some men who were still on their feet and they fired back. But the attackers sent up another flares bathing that strip of land in a merciless bright light and pumping hot lead at them as fast as they could. This final show down flattened them all. Some of them were dead and remaining few were creeping on the ground in a hope to find any hide in the darkness. But a very bright flashlight made them stay still where ever they were. In a few moments whole the 7 place was covered with fifty or Some of Jugal men raised their more horse riders. Their guns guns and fired blindly. The were directed at the men on the answer came within seconds. A ground. There was blood withering spray of hot lead that everywhere, the fallen men cut through Jugal's company were writhing in their own like scythe. blood. Along with others Jugal was 'Where is the girl? Find her.'

Shouted a bearded, burly man who was sitting on the tallest horse. Two men jumped from their horses on the ground with a thud. They instinctively headed towards the Fortuner and found unconscious Madhu, who was just looking like a bundle of clothes. One of the men dragged her out of the vehicle and headed towards their leader. 'Parsa!' Shouted the burly man. Another horse rider came forward, burly, like the man who called him. Shaggy hair, dusty clothes, eyes still, like a snake. 'Yes.' Said he. 'Take the girl, bury her in the pike ravines.' 'No problem.' 'There is a problem, control your dirty instincts and bury her before midnight.' Said the burly man with hate and spat on the ground. 'I'll do that.' Both the men dragged Madhu through the blood pool and went straight to Parsa, who looked at her with his piercing eyes, bent down and pulled her up by her arm to his horse back and forced her to sit astride in front of him. The burly man looked at him with his burning eyes and spat again on the ground and blurted in a poisonous voice, 'Kill them all.' Two men with heavy carbines started kicking the men on the

ground one by one, who ever had some life in him, was shot. Jugal who was bleeding constantly saw all this unexpected play, someone has cheated him. Madhu has been dragged on the horseback and a dirty looking man was caressing her. He never thought of harming Madhu, all he wanted a handsome ransom and flee from her life. But now she was in a grave trouble because of him, he cursed to himself silently. He saw the killers were coming close to him, suddenly he felt a heavy kick on his side he writhed and the man with the gun fired a shot. 8 From up there the hammock whatever Jack saw was the extremity of violence. There was notorious outlaw Deva and his gang, they have killed all the abductors. And the girl was forcefully dragged on his horse by Deva's younger brother Parsa. Now the whole gang was parting, a bigger group of at least 35 men, led by Parsa was going into the direction of Pike Peak, a place which was known as an abattoir. Deva left in the opposite direction, but Deva was of least concern at the moment. The main concern was Parsa, who was taking the girl into the deep wilderness. Parsa was a lunatic man, the girl was in a very deep trouble. The ammo, Jack had brought To be continued.....

with him was not enough to fight with those 35 bandits who were equipped with modern firearms. He had two Colt revolvers in his holsters and one Winchester rifle. All the three guns were old and faithful to him. He had fought and won several fights with the help of these three guns. But this time it was different, there was only left gang in this area on the opposite side. The gang with the manâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s power of 300 bandits and all types of modern arms. There were only two options, first, wait for the police combing party to come which may take a few hours depending on the approach of the abducted girl's family, the second option was to attack on the bandits and get the girl rescued. But there was a negative aspect too, any wrong step by him might get the girl killed. There was not much time left to ponder over this problem, he had to decide at the very moment whether to wait for the police to come or just start going behind them. Little delay and there were chances that he'll lose their trail forever and could never find the girl. He decided to go ahead to follow them and rescue the girl whenever he got a chance. He patted Duke and within a few moments he was on the trail of notorious Deva gang to save an innocent girl, if he could.

Black Rain... Sharique Jamal (Mumbai, India)

The shrapnel is lodged in Each soul, Reason and faith, crouching, To the dark armies ofmalice, History is replete with wars, For seldom has peace, found its voice. The malaise is deep, the wound Malignant, In false dawn lies tiny men, For arrogance and dominance, Blinds us with dense fog, But scarce realising the insignificance, For no wars have ever been won, Only body count is less. More graves than houses, Souls ofchildren, screams heard In the conscience offew, More blood on the sands, Than the depth ofoceans, Humanity crippled by enemies ofpeace, Even Atlas shrugs, while angels Weep. But doves shall fly again, Light from within, shall dispel the darkness, Floundering faith, will be forged anew, Lord made the world, in equal measure, Tyranny crushed under the, Millions flames lit in believers soul, A new world, a renaissance, A return to order, Shall come again, I may be a dreamer, but I am not the only one.

RISE OF DEATH

Hireni Kenisha Liyanage (Sri Lanka) It was a cold day, I was walking through the forest way, It was night and it was Monday, Someone suddenly blocked my way. Watch your way, I said, But he didn’t care what I said, Who do you think you are? he said, Get out of my way, he said. “Dr. Luke, I’m warning you,” The man with dark red eyes told me. “Who are you? I did nothing to you,” I said But he kept on staring at me. This giant man crept me out, His red eyes were sore and dark, His eyes looked as if it would pop out, And his whole body looked so dark. I saw some veins through faint light, The moon failed to give us some light, I couldn’t recognise him as there was no light, Only the glow-worm gave us bit light. Through the faint light I saw something, He was holding the top of it, He gently pulled out something, From his pocket and drew it out. It was a very sharp knife, He pointed it towards me, He stabbed me ten times using the knife, Then I screamed and woke up To see it was just a dream.

Editor Speaks

Greetings to all! Reflection W&R Mag provides a dignified dais for creative writing ofevery kind across the globe. The collection ofliterary works is a testament to the power which writing and progressive arts can have on the wholeness ofan individual. With great pleasure, I express my heartfelt thanks to our beloved contributors who have placed â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;Reflectionâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; on a high pedestal with their creditable artistry. My sincere thanks to Mr Kumar Vikrant who gives his best shot each time in designing the pages ofthe magazine with a stunning effect. Our Managing Editor, Ms Iram Fatima Ashi who always respects the opinion ofReflection family, expresses her abundant love and extracts work from us in the most pleasing manner. Hearty thanks to her for her involvement in the enhancement ofour magazine. Special thanks to Mr R. K. Verma who graciously spares his time and resources to decorate the art section with his fabulous paintings. I extend my thanks to all those who have rendered their constant support exalting the glory ofreflection being enthusiastic readers. Thank you. Regards, Vasanthi Papu ( Editor)

Guidelines For Submitting Your Manuscripts 1 You should have a proper pen name, pen name like girlie2000, lifeisadream, will not be accepted. If you use your real name, it will be highly appreciated. 2 You can send us stories, poems, essays, interviews, reportage, novel summaries etc. 3 Be original, plagiarism in any form is unbearable so it will be your responsibility to deal with, if someone claims or complains about your work the editor and the publisher will not be responsible for any of the published work. 4 It is necessary to provide your contact details with your manuscript. But if you like your contact details will be published under your work so that it will enable the readers to interact with you directly. 5 You can write in any genre but vulgarity, erotica, profanity is not allowed in any form. Besides propagating any religion, an ethnic group or terrorist group in your work is strictly prohibited. Our magazine is for general reading so the use of four letter words is not permitted. 6 It is advised that you must send your manuscript fully edited and grammatically checked. Our editors will not be able to edit or amend it so they have the right of rejecting your manuscript. 7 This is a free online magazine so we shall not pay any money for any of your published work. 8 Presently we are doing only six online and three printed issues in a year. 9 Our long term dream is to publish unpublished writers, please do your best to provide us with your best work. It may go to the printed version of our Magazine. 10 Our publisher MOPH is determined to publish the print versions of your novels too. If you have a novelist in you please send us the summary of your novel for publishing it in the online version of our magazine. If our editors and critics like your novel we will send it to our publishers for printing it free of cost.

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Your Reflection Thank you so much for publishing this wonderful magazine so that the writers, artists around the world have a chance to sit together and tell our voice. I wish your magazine would get more success. Kim Ngan (Viet Nam)

It has been a great experience for me to write for Reflection. I would not shy away from confessing that it is Ms. Ashi who has always encouraged and supported me in my efforts as a writer. She showed unprecedented faith in my writing ability. So thanks to her for keeping a writer in me alive. I'd like to thank Ms. Vasanthi Papu for her amazing editing skills and dedication for the magazine. Hats off to her for giving her precious time from busy schedule for all the wonderful editing work for Reflection.The design, layout and all the hard work done for the successful roll out of our magazine by Mr. Kumar Vikrant is also commendable. I salute him for this. The dedication and unity shown by the entire team made this magazine successful. With every new issue Reflection is becoming more enriched with great contents. The pictures and layout are becoming more and more appealing. The paintings of R. K Verma are awesome and refreshing. It brings the whole magazine alive. Cheers !! Shahid Khan (India)

It's not just the writers with this magazine. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s also the wonderful artists work inside this issue. The beautiful artwork is also something that inspires me to write. The backgrounds are beautiful and the interview is absolutely wonderful! What a team this is! Angie Blake (USA)

This is a visually stunning issue and a great mix of articles showcasing nature and the environment. Well done and kudos to all involved. Joe P. Attanasio (USA)

Thanks to you kind people that fresh writers like me get to contribute our writing pieces. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s a wonderful opportunity for us. Thank you and keep bringing out more amazing issues in the future. Aarati Salian (Bahrain)

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Peace

MOPH