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About Us: Ashvamegh Vol.II Issue.XX September 2016

Ashvamegh Biharsharif, India [email protected], +91 7004831594

Editorial Board on Ashvamegh:

Alok Mishra (Editor-in-Chief) Murray Alfredson (Sr. Editor) Dr. Shrikant Singh (Sr. Editor) Nidhi Sharma (Editor) Vihang Naik (Sr. Editor) Pooja Chakraborty (Editor) Anway Mukhopadhyay (Editor) Munia Khan (Editor) Dr. Sarada Thallam (Sr. Editor) D. Anjan Kumar (Sr. Editor) Ravi Teja (Editor)

Advisory Panel on Ashvamegh: Dr. Swarna Prabhat Ken W Simpson N. K. Dar Alan Britt

Ashvamegh is an online international journal of literary and creative writing. Publishing monthly, Ashvamegh has successfully launched its 20th issue in September 2016 (this issue). Submission is open every day of the year. Please visit http://ashvamegh.net for more details.

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Table of Contents: Ashvamegh Vol.II Issue.XX September 2016

What is inside to read?

Cover

About us

Table of contents

• Editorial • Poetry Section • Short Stories • Interviews • Book Reviews

(note: you can download research articles and essays in a different non-fiction edition of the issue from the website)

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Ashvamegh: Vol–II: Issue XX: September 2016 Alok Mishra: Editorial ISSN: 2454-4574 Is there anything like good poetry or bad poetry? Do you think there lies a distinction? Can poetry be bad? Of course, it can be good; my question is – can there be something which you may classify as ‘bad poetry’? This question has been there in my mind for long now. Better than this, I seldom get any platform to convey my ideas to a number of people easily. I hope you people will help me with my complexity.

From Dr. Johnson to Eliot, and also some other critics like Pope, they all have been hinting at something called ‘bad poetry’ if I am right to understand. The general notion goes like there must be something permanent in the poem to make it a ‘good poetry’. Failing to subscribe to that permanence, the poem is not ‘good poetry’ and it implicitly hints at otherwise. I agree that some elements of permanent values add importance to the poem and make it ‘forever’ like in the case of ‘Rainbow’ that Wordsworth painted with his words. However, remember a poem by Andrew Young, A Dead Mole? That poem is all about a mole which dies. So, that is a moment’s poem inspired by the ‘present’ situations. Will the readers deny to enjoy that poem? No, certainly not! A poem is a poem – it’s something beyond from being qualified as good or bad! However, I will welcome the views to take this discourse further.

Another issue and we are all set to see off 20 successful issues of Ashvamegh. We will enter into our thirties now and it has been a thrilling journey, I must say! Many thanks to our visitors, readers and contributors for making Ashvamegh a great success! I will keep things short as Ashvamegh has many pleasant reads to offer to the readers in the present issue. Enjoy the issue and let others enjoy too by sharing the items on your social pages.

Many thanks and love,

Alok Mishra

Interviews: Ashvamegh Vol.II Issue.XX September 2016

• Loubna FLAH (Featured Poet) • Akhila K Bhagavathi • Utsav Kaushik • Maria Tosti • CP Pathak

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Ashvamegh: Vol–II: Issue XX: September 2016 FLAH: Featured Poet ISSN: 2454-4574 Introduction to the Poet:

Ms. Loubna FLAH is born and raised in Casablanca, Morocco. After she got a Bachelor degree in Biochemistry, she decided to pursue her passion for Literature and Humanities. She got a Master’s degree in Literary and Linguistic Studies from Ain Chok Faculty of Letters and Humanities, Casablanca. She is currently a PhD student at Ben M’Sik Faculty of Letters and Humanities. Her area of research pertains to Discourse Analysis, Feminism and Islamism. She worked also as a journalist for the news outlet Moroccoworldnews.com where she published a large number of articles both on politics and economy. She

is an EFL teacher and assistant professor in Ben M’Sik Faculty of Letters and Humanities within the PhD program. She has a keen interest in poetry and short story writing. She is constantly astounded at the capacity of poetry to beautify the gloom of grief, to glorify passion and to reinstate the severed bounds of the soul.

Dancing for the Divine

In the fretting of the leaves

In the glow of the falling mist

In the gentle breeze

In the rays, in the eves

In all that exists

There is a glimpse of you

***

In the lightness of my step

In the spin, in the twist

In the floating edge

Ashvamegh: Vol–II: Issue XX: September 2016 FLAH: Featured Poet ISSN: 2454-4574

Of the white attire

In all that moves

There is a glimpse of you

In" I "and "me" and "mine "

There is a trace of you.

Unapologetic Love Come to me my lover With the free morning breeze With the mistral winds that freeze The branches of the bare trees Come before youth is over Come then With crude hopes and fresh flowers Exhaling your ambrosial scent Like a heavenly bliss on earth sent To revive the happy hours Calling my name over and over Come to me my lover With no pride and no pretensions Thus flow the brooks to the vast oceans And the threads yearn for the kites Come amidst the lonely nights Come before youth is over

Ashvamegh: Vol–II: Issue XX: September 2016 FLAH: Featured Poet ISSN: 2454-4574

In the Betweens

Neither I am alive

Nor I am dead

A falling drop

In an endless decline

Nor ahead

Neither behind

A gray thin line

Between darkness and light

I lost the colors

I lost my sight

Like a painter beholding

Her sluggish art

A soulless figure

Amidst walking shadows

With no fortune

And misfortunes

Like a forsaken lover

In the dull afternoons

Ashvamegh: Vol–II: Issue XX: September 2016 Bhagvathi: Poems ISSN: 2454-4574

Introduction to the Poet:

The poet is at present 71 years of age and lives at the foothills of the Himalayas, India. These poems were written up in the mountains in June 2016. However, the author has two books of poems to her name and a book of essays already published. The themes are both divinity and nature. She is also a practitioner of north Indian classical vocal music and writes her own songs in Hindi dialect.

Worship I As I meditate I see One I involved In the universe, changing As swiftly As every cell in the body And the other I, quiet, standing apart Watching, knowing, radiating The stillness of consciousness The other I, radiating The stillness of divinity Holding on Desperately, to this other I Is also worship, is it not? ------------------


O tree O tree, what are you So much bigger than man You are sacred, yes With your height and purity And strength as well You carry alongside your height You take Our mind and soul To the sky To the abode of the Divine O tree what are you I want to be you? --------------------------


The Bird It roams about the sky It's span is very wide It is unimaginable The span Of the Wings Of this bird It is Indescribable therefore The wings are shiny The beaks are shiny They are silver colored Colored like the moon Colored like the half moon light Intrinsic silver It is the Soul bird That flies in the Sky Of the Heart As well as in the Sky Of the Universe For both are One -------------------------

Ashvamegh: Vol–II: Issue XX: September 2016 Kaushik: Poems ISSN: 2454-4574 Introduction to the Poet:

Utsav Kaushik doesn’t consider himself a poet yet likes to bramble obscurity. Also has a deep interest in doing theatre, writing songs and music. His voice is deep set in the grey shades of North India. Nature always inspires him for awkward cacophony. And he is a very talkative poet. He is currently working on new theories in the literary field of post-colonialism. His poem entitled “Leaves” was published in the March issue 2016 of Londongrip. His poems entitled “Confession of a Sexist” and “Strange Tides” were published in The Paragon Journal, etc.

Labouring Stains

Working – nothing new beneath the sun

Except labour – day and night. How charming!

A skeleton: meek jaws, torn collar and profane femur.

Sweating, spitting and staring through cracks.

At once raise, both hands stretching back,

Muscles tightening behind the neck, straight nose,

A bow waiting to lose: at once came down inches deep

Into cement, concrete and Red.

Lustrous bodies – polished shoes in sundry:

West African Sepia, Black chocolate and Grey-goose.

Fighting the other, filling their skull and carrying

THE SHIT OF CIVILISATION unbroken.

Red fumes rising and shattering the Blue.

THE TIME HAS COME to trade not in Green

Or Silver or Meaning. To blast with hammer and spade

Every socio-civil structure, pulverizing them into dreams.

Ashvamegh: Vol–II: Issue XX: September 2016 Kaushik: Poems ISSN: 2454-4574

Mistah Kurtz –he ain’t dead: “I want Blue not Red!”

At once raised their hands, stretching back behind his neck,

Straight noses, several bows waiting to liberate

At once came down several spades inches deep into Red.

Edge

It came from somewhere and caught my buckle.

Only when it pulled,

I realised...

Edge.

Edge

Saved innocent minds;

Her shrill cries,

Her miseries,

It locked away.

That scar, humanity gave her.

Bold but beautiful,

The blue of her eyes

Hiding behind edge, confessing:

“Dowry burned me!”

Life without adoration.

Ashvamegh: Vol–II: Issue XX: September 2016 Kaushik: Poems ISSN: 2454-4574 Beauty left her alone.

A life she didn’t ask for.

Her eyes saying...

Seclusion and monotony: her companions betrayed,

Were jealous, gone. Her beauty,

The burnt edge of a candle;

Like melted wax sticking to the bottom.

Neck wasn’t fair,

Cheeks didn’t carry

The tint of skirmish crimson,

Eyes were small and shy.

Not like women from Mills & Boon.

Edge

Eclipsing her,

Making her shudder.

Edge

Burning her

Every now and then

Even in this new life.

Ashvamegh: Vol–II: Issue XX: September 2016 Pathak: Poems ISSN: 2454-4574 Introduction to the Poet: Chandra Prakash Pathak is a Teacher, Poet and Astrologer, His writing combines eastern and western philosophy and affects the metaphysics. He roams throughout eastern India and try to reflects the brutal realities of life. His works have been published in many magazines like Criterion, Galaxy, The literary Herald, Ecolinguistics and so on. A Night with Moon My shadow walks alongwith me I doubt it is me or thee Who has created this world Full of snare beauty to see Under the moon with its comely grace Unstoppable hoursand frosty night in their pace I look at and the cheer sky smiles All the pains slept and no sign for miles I feel all relaxed and befitted here Closed my eyes if it breaks in fear My gossip starts with uncanny lives With My true partner my soul jives I keep walking with moon in night An unconditioned love at first sight I told every hidden or unhidden In real world which is forbidden And they whispered in my ears As if on barren land a pariah rears I forget all cunning tricks I learnt An angel came out and devil burnt When everybody sleeps she comes Shattering her beauty all around The world takes a milky bath All palpitating lives get relief Pouring love and calmness Cool, calm, peace giving celestial feeling When everybody sleeps she comes But no longer it takes a sojourn The parijaat became the fern Demon clouds came and beauty disappears Her loves become mourn and night appears Cruel world spread its wings once again Innocence goes off and wickedness gains Milky bath stops and no more meditation no separation of heart and mind but participation

Ashvamegh: Vol–II: Issue XX: September 2016 Pathak: Poems ISSN: 2454-4574

A pair of blue Birds

Why the fused heart palpitates and dead smile frost the vanished beauty why the caged parrot sings a melancholic song and gaze at outer world; a pair of parrots fluffing inside to free Encaged like a helpless slave a slave of his own fence he was not one never he he was two one I another me oh! One is enslaved another is to die but couldn’t saved no wonder body without soul is dead, They are lookin for their skies but O! re my fate; what a game you've played neither you win nor you let me win nor you defeat me or to be defeated O! re my fate; what a game you've played. my axis is not mine; not the blue sky; not even my horizontal land, you say my destiny in my hand but my hands are bound with shackles.

ilmigliorfabbro It is my first love,' he said With a cunning smile And engrossed in nonsense To make it a sense, People don’t believe i am in love my friend! How can I? Do I? I can’t. No, no chance. I can’t stay one place My life is a race, The whole sky is mine And I want to be hers,

Ashvamegh: Vol–II: Issue XX: September 2016 Pathak: Poems ISSN: 2454-4574 Love makes man tame and lame I am a yayaber and not the same, I am a man define myself Let the world fuck off. Really, he seems in love or Pretend to be in love. Whatever his beats of heart Only knows the reality because Shadow in disguise – He is. She is going tomorrow With a unwanted smile on his countenance holding a sigh in mild heart.’ he said. Sign of separation and with a classic song he sang louder and louder an effort to unheard the song of heart playing inside with the loudest strain Oh! Nothing but cause to only pain, But none I was there. Obscure to know A man with hundreds of face A howling sound in pace, I have no crush on her Of foolishness I went to Venus And brought lotus and lilies to her, With a rock and roll; I am saying my mind From heart and soul, I love her or not For me an ego strike A girl of no any grace Even impels to like But o! my heart- you are windy wind You are meant to blow Neither stop nor to slow Only blow, blow and blow. Goodbye my lovers Goodbye my friends And goodbye deli.

Stories Section: Ashvamegh Vol.II Issue.XX September 2016

• The Gambler’s Wife by Eric Levy • Devotion by Ankita Jain • The Lighted Cigarette by Bhanumati Mishra • The Genius Went Unnoticed by Nibash

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Ashvamegh: Vol–II: Issue XX: September 2016 Levy: The Gambler’s Wife ISSN: 2454-4574

The Gambler’s Wife

Introduction to the Author:

Eric Levy has been a writer-editor for 25 years on the staff of medical centers and trade magazines

(get this...one of them is Modern Floor Coverings...well..a guy's gotta work). All that time, he's

been pursuing his passion of writing fiction weekday eves and weekends. None of his fiction pieces

includes floor coverings.

My strongest childhood memories concern my mother and her Gam-Anon meetings that took place

in our living room.

Gam-Anon is an offshoot of Gambler’s Anonymous (G.A.), made up of mostly wives

whose husbands like to roll the dice too much. I listened to the meetings

from my tent. I heard the same words so often that I eventually memorized the Gam-Anon

principles, “The Way to Serenity”:

1. Acceptance

2. Hope

3. Faith

4. Honesty

5. Courage

6. Willingness

7. Humility

8. Sincerity

9. Action


10. Vigilance

11. Spirituality

12. Sharing

Mom did not adhere to Principle Number 10. She was, in no way, a vigilante. She spoke the

Gam-Anon language, but only practiced a mere fraction of it. The women in the group (and one

man, whose wife was the sinner) took turns leading the group. I looked forward to mom’s turn that

took place about once a month. She opened the meeting with a call for silent meditation. All these

victims closed their eyes with their

heads down. “What is said in this room stays in this room,” mom said.

I told my best friend Larry (well…my only friend) about all this hocus pocus going on. When

mom wasn’t around, we would follow the Gam-Anon Handbook and take turns being the leader.

I would overdramatize it when it was my turn. “We are familiar with worry and sleepless nights!”

I would scream, reading from the Spouse’s Bible. “And promises made only to be broken!” Oh

yea. Mom knew that big time. Dad had accepted his five-year pin symbolizing his refraining from

gambling. But she knew different. So did I. For those five years, dad was hunted down by a

member of the Profaci Crime Family he owed gobs of money to and spent time and time again in

prison for stealing merchandise from electronic stores that he sold to give Gallo the Mobster some

cash. “We come to the group feeling alone, frightened, desperate, and ashamed!” I exclaimed.

Larry thought my performance was hysterical. He had this hyena-type laugh. I didn’t even crack a

smile. This was real stuff that had taken over my life with deep-seated anger.

There were four Purposes of Gam-Anon: To grow spiritually, understand the gambling

problem, and welcome assistance and comfort from other Gam-Anonians. But the 4th one…to give

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Profaci_crime_family

Ashvamegh: Vol–II: Issue XX: September 2016 Levy: The Gambler’s Wife ISSN: 2454-4574 encouragement and understanding to the compulsive gambler…You’ve got to be kidding! In

retrospect, when I saw dad writing down potential winners of ballgames to throw away his

money on, I should have grabbed that sheet of paper and ripped it to shreds right in front of him.

And if he dared to slap me for this perceived injustice, I should have taken the heaviest chachka

(and mom had a million of them) and slammed it onto his head. But mom and I watched dad like

we would a Hallmark Hall of Fame drama, helpless in the face of dad’s compulsion.

Another concept that I didn’t agree with was that the Gam-Anon group was being

“powerless” over the dreaded “disease.” If they’re all so powerless, then why have such a group

to begin with? “Embrace Your Power!” I would tell Larry. He enjoyed when I read the section

titled “Are You Living with a Compulsive Gambler?” One of the symptoms was that the gambler

has “unrealistic expectations that gambling will bring the family material comfort and wealth.” I

would read it with great bravado and then add in a volume that all the neighbors must have heard,

“Yes! God bless Gam-Anon for knowing my strife!” Number 11 was the Gam-Anonian “hiding

money needed for living expenses.” Mom had money hidden all over the apartment. Dad

discovered one of the hiding places and demanded to know if any other cash was being kept from

him. “You thief! Where’s the rest?! Tell me now or you’ll see what I’ll do!” and he would go to

every cabinet in the kitchen, throwing dishes down to the floor, cracked and unusable. He’d fling

linens out of the closet (a good move on his part—a stack of twenties was his winnings). Most all

our possessions were removed from their rightful places, until dad found most of mom’s buried

treasure.

Get this. It is written in the Gam-Anon scriptures that its members have “defects” and

“made others miserable” because they “were miserable.” It is also written that they must “make

amends to those they made miserable.” Mom must have missed that one. So, alas, I remain

Ashvamegh: Vol–II: Issue XX: September 2016 Levy: The Gambler’s Wife ISSN: 2454-4574 miserable to this day. She never even apologized or recognized the assaults perpetuated against

me.

What really made me nauseous are the slogans. Mom was on the phone a lot, speaking to

new Gam-Anon wives. She often spouted, “Don’t bear the blame—You’re not to blame!” “Don’t

despair—we care!” “With hope—You can cope!” “Start anew with the chosen few!” And the

phone call itself had its own slogan: “Don’t be alone—use the phone!” I couldn’t hear what the

new recruits were saying on the other end of the phone, but apparently not much, since mom did

most of the talking. Slogans would save them all! The line I heard most often was “Everything in

moderation.” As far as mom was concerned, nothing was in moderation. In fact, everything she

said was overdramatized and recited over and over again.

Every weekly meeting ended with the serenity prayer. Larry liked this best, when I put on

my preacher voice and chanted: “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,

courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” Larry, who was a very

quiet guy and not prone to the dramatic, made an exception (through my prodding and rehearsing

him) and would follow my prayer with “Amen Reverend Barry!” and then pretended to be

speaking in tongues, spinning himself around and shaking like an epileptic. As his performance

was perfected over several months, I went into a stampede of hysterical laughter. And God knows

I could use a laugh.

One evening, I listened from my makeshift tent to Loretta the witch, who was the meeting’s

leader. She frightened me. In retrospect, I think she was goth before there was goth. Guess you

could say she was progressive in that way. She dyed her hair jet black and had so much hair spray

on it that it looked laminated. Loretta’s eyelids were painted dark purple with matching lipstick.

Her nails had to be at least two inches long, painted with some witch’s brew. Even when she wasn’t

Ashvamegh: Vol–II: Issue XX: September 2016 Levy: The Gambler’s Wife ISSN: 2454-4574 the leader of the group, she acted as if she was. “Joan—you’re talking out of turn!” “Francis—we

don’t judge each other in this room!” and a billion other admonitions coming out from between

her purple lips. So I wasn’t surprised when it was the witch who finally caught me. She stood up

from her seat on one of the wooden chairs mom had in the living room, pulled me out of my tent,

pointed her glowing fingers at me and exclaimed, “Young man! This is a confidential meeting!”

She scared the crap out of me. I literally had nightmares for weeks with Loretta on her

broomstick flying above my head. In one of my mind’s more creative nightmares, she tied me

down to a Gam-Anon chair and in front of all the spouses poured black die on my head, applied

witch-glow paint on my nails, and as I screamed, she held my mouth closed as my lips were

smeared with purple paint taken from my Children’s Artist Set. But the reality of my being caught

that night was worse than any nightmare. After Loretta blasted me, mom grabbed me by the arm

and in front of all her Gam-Anon buddies, made me apologize to them all. One at a time. She

pulled me by the arm and stopped in front of each of these unfortunate souls. “Sorry…” I said to

the first gambler’s spouse. “Sorry who?!” mom shouted. “Sorry…lady?” I said through my tears.

“What’s her name, Barry? You’re such a snoop, you should know everyone’s name by now!” I

couldn’t remember any of their names, until it got to Loretta. “Sorry…crazy witch lady!” I

screamed so loud that my throat ached. Loretta was livid. She was the only one standing through

the entire say-you’re-sorry ritual. Her goth face came within an inch of mine and she spoke so

quickly and loud that I couldn’t make it out. It sounded to me like some witch chant. I

only caught the end of her rampage: “Joan,” she said, moving her head slightly towards mom.

“Joan Schwartz! What are you going to do with this spy?!” I thought I had lost mom as a member

of the Barry and Joan Duo Against the Horrible Injustices Perpetuated Against Us By Dad. But

then she proved me wrong. She pulled me away from the witch, held me in her arms and declared

Ashvamegh: Vol–II: Issue XX: September 2016 Levy: The Gambler’s Wife ISSN: 2454-4574 to the group, “This meeting is adjourned!” And one Gam-Anon wife who I had thought seemed

like a kind soul during my espionage, ever so softly said, “I second the motion.”

I found stuff in the Gam-Anon handbook that was never spoken in mom’s group. It was

stuff that described me. It was about the effects a compulsive gambler has on his family. For

instance, there’s one that says that people who grew up with a compulsive gambler often stay home

alone so they don’t have to explain their home life to anyone. And even more shocking is one that

says the gambler’s family members avoid bringing friends home. For me, it wasn’t that friends

would find dad making bets on the phone, but that they would notice how dad’s gambling affected

mom. How nervous it made her. How overprotective she was toward me. The book also zeroed in

on mom as someone who uses her kid as a “sounding board.” I swear it seems like the author was

writing about me when he asks, “Do you feel more like the parent than the child?” Oh yea,

definitely. I was mom’s parent. I took care of her, not the other way around. I consoled her when

she cried. I put my arm around her and felt creepy when she rested her head on my shoulder. Then

there’s the one that lasted into the present, that the kid finds it difficult to trust people. When you’re

betrayed by the very people that are supposed to protect you, to care for you, how could you ever

trust anyone ever again?

Mom’s most nefarious betrayal was when she took me to a child psychiatrist. The shrink

took out from his desk drawer my 86-page comic book, “Dinky Day,” that I had created on stapled

sheets loose-leaf paper. I was shocked and angered that mom had given the comic book to the

shrink without my permission.

“What is this?” the psychiatrist asked.

“My comic book,” I answered, without letting on that my head was smoking from this

unjust action taken against me.


“What is the comic book about?”

“A kid, Dinky Day. And his mom. Mostly.”

“What happens between the mom and the son?”

“She screams at him a lot.”

“What else?”

“She thinks he does a lot of bad things.”

“How did you come up with the ideas for your comic book?”

“I…ah…I don’t know. I just made it for fun.”

“Your mom told me you gave it to her to look at.”

“Yea.”

“Did you give it to her because the mom and her son in the comic book are similar to your

relationship with your mother?”

As a 10-year-old, I told him “no.” though it was quite obvious. He didn’t know, or ask,

about Gam-Anon. Forty years later, I realize mom didn’t want to reveal that she was a gambler’s

wife. About ten years ago, mom admitted that the psychiatrist told my mother that she needed

therapy, not me. It was prophetic. She spent much of her later years on the couch.

###

Ashvamegh: Vol–II: Issue XX: September 2016 Jain: Devotion ISSN: 2454-4574

Devotion Introduction to the Author: Ankita Jain has completed her Masters in English Literature from Delhi University. She loves to write, a hobby that she recently discovered. Teaching is a passion that she wants to pursue as a profession in the long run. She writes about literature and also has an interest in creative writing. All her memories of her childhood were hazy, shadowed by clouds of forgetfulness, except this one particular thing. This one, but the single most significant thing in her life. The only thing that constituted the ‘essence’ of reality for her: her love. For Her. Yes, she loved Her. Loved Her for who she was. Accepted Her with all her shortcomings and loved Her all the more, for who is perfect? Who does not have faults? Well, we all do. And so did She. But that did not matter to her. Not at all. Do you stop loving someone for their vices? No, of course not. Because when you love someone, you love them with all their foibles, because that is the true meaning of love. And that was the level of her devotion. She would not accept even a finger pointed at Her. Do it and there, you will have it from her. She was crazy for Her, crazy in Her love. Not because she was a fanatic but because she acknowledged what She has been to her. Without Her, she would lose herself, her identity. She wanted to be of service to Her, in any possible way she can. That would be just her way of trying to thank Her because repaying Her debt was impossible. She could not even think of it. But how? How could she do this? She sure had one way of doing it: she wanted to serve Her. But the world won’t let her because they found it bizarre. Nobody would accept this. She better settle with a man and forget Her, they would say. Why? Why should I, she would think. Is it because I am a woman? Why cannot I join the army and serve my country?

Ashvamegh: Vol–II: Issue XX: September 2016 Mishra: The Lighted Cigarette ISSN: 2454-4574

The lighted cigarette

Introduction to the Author:

Bhanumati Mishra teaches English Literature at Banaras Hindu University, Varanasi. She is a writer, translator, poet, critic and a graphic artist. Her articles, research papers and book reviews have been published in TBR, Cha and Muse India etc. She is also the author of Amitav Ghosh and His Oeuvre. She regularly writes for The Hindu and The Hindustan Times. Her interest lies in Gender Studies, Translation, Dalit Literature, Performance Studies and Human Values.

The August of 1974 held nothing special for Manu to have retained it in her memory. As usual the

Doon valley was lush green after a pounding monsoon. The migratory birds had made their

presence felt in the garden. The jacarandas and the bougainvilleas were in full bloom. Papa enjoyed

his evening cup of tea in the large lawn of this British-style colonial bungalow in the Cantonment.

Ma brought her tea-tray and laid it on the table. Arranging the Marie biscuits in a semi-circle on

the porcelain plate she called out to Manu who was playing hop-scotch on the verandah. Manu’s

entry into the garden coincided with that of Colonel Narendra Rajput. Naren Uncle as he was called

was Papa’s junior by a term in NDA, Khadakvasla and was recently posted to Garhi Cantt. Papa

shared a great camaraderie with him. As a confirmed bachelor and a chain smoker his evenings

mostly started with tea in Manu’s garden followed by a couple of drinks in the Officers’ Mess

where he lived and a quiet dinner in his room. Manu loved the way his fingers deftly held the

slender tobacco roll. The ash-trays in the house were mere curios till Naren Uncle gave them the

pride of place on the center table. Ma, who was uncomfortable with his constant presence,

complained of smoke filling up her lungs and rarely sat beyond the ritual of tea. Naren Uncle


however never seemed to mind this. As a great story teller, he regaled Manu with tales from his

postings in the North-east and the Siachen glacier. Manu finished her glass of Horlicks and wiping

the cream from her lips, sat all ready to plunge into another adventure story from Naren Uncle.

Except that Naren Uncle seemed in no mood to spell his magic that day. There was a strange

silence at the tea-table. All Manu remembered of that evening was a sky-blue inland letter

fluttering for freedom from under the tea-pot and a thin film in the three untouched tea-cups. The

letter addressed to Papa was written in a feminine hand. He tried to explain but Ma wasn’t

convinced. Manu remembered Ma’s delicate pink chiffon sari, as if it had taken all it’s color from

her cheeks.

It was in the taxi that Manu noticed Ma’s usual coiffeur was not in place. What an odd time to

leave for grandpa’s house she thought. From the sides of the huge sunglasses Ma wore, Manu

could see her staring straight at the long unwinding road without a blink. Manu’s mind raced to

Papa. Where was he? Why did Bahadur come to pick her up at school instead of Papa? It was the

geography class and Ms George had drawn a huge earth in the centre of the blackboard. That’s

when the ayah came to call Manu to the Principal’s office. The whole class looked at the visibly

embarrassed Manu. There was a somber silence at home. All Ma said while changing Manu’s

clothes was that there was an emergency. Was Grandpa dead? That’s what most of her friends said

when they didn’t come to school for many days? Ma’s absent minded mono-syllables made Manu

want to weep. She woke up in the train with her head cushioned in Ma’s lap. The fierce rattling of

the train distracted and frightened Manu. Many stations whizzed past but she remembered

Manmad. She was thrilled to be able to read it in English - joining Man and Mad – easy unlike

other tongue-twisting stations.


Grandpa’s silver Ambassador matched his hair and the cool Bombay sea-breeze refreshed Manu

as they drove to Lonavla. With her face against the wind, she squinted to size up the vast expanse

of the sea. Huge waves spiraled and slackened against the rocks. Usually when they came here

every summer, Ma, Papa and she would stay in Grandpa’s flat in Worli for a week from where

Manu could walk up to the edge of the sea and spend hours building her sand castles. Driving all

the way to chowpati for bhel-puri or eating boiled peanuts as they watched the sunset at the

Gateway of India was how they spent their carefree days. That was what Manu treasured most as

she bragged about in school to her friends after every vacation. It was only after spending a week

in Bombay that they would leave for grandpa’s quiet farmhouse in Lonavla.

This time it was different. Grandpa came all the way to Victoria Terminal to receive them. Manu

sprang into Grandpa’s arms and held him tightly, burying her face in his bony shoulder till he

settled her in the front seat. The whoosh of the wind did not bring any clarity to the conversation

that took place between Ma and Grandpa in the back-seat. All Manu heard were soft sobs that

drowned amidst the car-horns of passing vehicles. She knew this time they would stop only in

Lonavla and so she stopped asking any questions.

Grandpa had a two storied house with a protruding balcony that was embellished with ornate black

glistening wrought-iron grills. The quaint looking house was surrounded by papaya, custard apple

and pomegranate trees on three sides. The terrace had a lovely view of the Sahyadri hills and the

pleasant morning rays filled the whole house with a golden glow. The front garden was now mostly

left unattended like Grandpa’s growing years. Besides Kancha, the cook and Namdeo the driver,

the house was owned by two Labradors shakaal and zumba. Ma and Manu occupied the huge

bedroom and hall on the first floor. The French doors of the bedroom opened into the fairly wide


balcony and lent an elegant touch to the tastefully done room. From the spacious balcony spanning

the hall and the bedroom, ran a flight of stairs to the terrace –Manu’s favorite hide-out. Grandpa

never came up to the first-floor or the terrace due to arthritis. He was mostly confined to his study

where a huge burnt-wood almirah stood adjacent to the built-in book- shelf. On days when Manu

got bored watching the rain or playing alone on the terrace, she would quietly slip into grandpa’s

study to give company to the comatose Shakal and Zumba sprawled on thick Persian rugs.

Days passed, it was over a month now and Manu started missing Papa and school. She stopped

asking about her father. Ma was either busy in the kitchen trying to bake sponge cakes or would

sit and knit till it was dark. Dinner was mostly served downstairs and conversations were getting

sparse by the day. Occasionally when Manu heard the words ‘letter’ or ‘boarding school’

mentioned, she knew she would be asked to leave the dining table. Climbing the stairs with

deliberate reluctance, she could hear Ma getting agitated and Grandpa reasoning with her till both

of them left for their respective rooms. Schools in this hill-station took students in the winter and

Manu had narrowly missed it. Manu knew a blue-colored inland letter and its contents had brought

her school- life in Doon to a halt and on the other hand there was a boarding school somewhere

waiting to kick-start her life again. Well into her adult life Manu could never write on blue inland

letters or stay in dormitories. Manu longed for many things from her past but amongst them it was

only Naren Uncle who made an appearance out of the blue. He was now posted in Ahmednagar

and often came to meet them on weekends. Ma wept on seeing him but Manu was thrilled as he

narrated story after story. Grandpa enjoyed talking to him over sips of whisky.

Ramdeo sprinkled water on the terrace in the evening and straightened two folding cots. A floral

bed sheet was tucked under the spare mattress. On stuffy nights Manu and Ma preferred to sleep


on the terrace under a blanket of sparkling stars. Ma looked and sounded better on such days. She

told Manu many stories from her own childhood spent in magical Panchgani, her boarding school

antics, picnics with friends to the Ajanta Ellora caves and many more till Manu slowly slipped into

sleep. It was probably beyond midnight when Manu woke up with heavy droplets of rain on her

face. She tried to cover her face with one end of the bed sheet but it had begun to drizzle. She

usually snuggled up to Ma who carried her downstairs; while Kancha hurriedly folded the mattress

before it got drenched. But today there was no Ma, only the mattress soaking up the rain. The

moonless night and the swaying coconut trees of the neighbor’s compound frightened Manu. They

looked like the scary ghost from the stories her friends fed her with. She called for Ma a couple of

times but when no one came she decided to go down. Stepping carefully on the wet cemented

steps, she somehow reached the balcony holding the rails. By now the rain poured in heavy gusts

with rumbling thunder and its deafening after-effects. Manu’s hair and frock were wet by the time

she reached the French door. It was pitch dark with no bed lamps inside –the electricity was cut

off as a precaution. Manu started thumping the glass panes and calling out to Ma. She had no idea

how long she stood there crying and frightened. Finally, she put her palms to the sides of her eyes

to peer into the glass door. She tried hard to adjust her eyes to the darkness in the room. She

searched for Ma’s familiar face but in the flash of a lightening, all she could see was the tip of a

lighted cigarette deftly held between two fingers and maybe the smoke choked Ma’s soft voice.

Ashvamegh: Vol–II: Issue XX: September 2016 Nibash: The Genius Went Unnoticed ISSN: 2454-4574

The Genius Went Unnoticed Introduction to the Author:

Nibash is a graduate in English Literature from Guahati University. He is a poet and also writes short stories. An ardent student of literature, Nibash loves reading classic as well as modern texts.

It was 7:00 am. A six-year-old boy was sharpening a big knife. That knife weighed almost three and half kgs and its length was about half a metre. Tt was touching his armpit while he sharpened it. Usually, this time for the children was meant to play with friends or going to school... but he was deprived of all these. His rub to the knife against stone made him a brutal butcher.

Standing near the railway track, at a little height from him, I was staring him. He had to accelerate his work because the owners of the fish shops were ready and the customers were on the way. There were a few blunt knives left to be sharpened. Nobody was bothered whether he had eaten anything or not, but they had all the time to pass rude comments on him. This scene seemed to me as an active evidence of humanity losing its stand. I was suddenly reminded of the livelihood of the Chimney Sweepers of William Blake’s “The Chimney Sweeper”.

At around 6 o’clock in evening. I saw him again at a Milk Stall. He ordered a glass of milk and sat in front of my seat. He started to drink but after a sip he stopped as it was very hot and puffed. His act of drinking milk made me understand that he was a talented boy. Though he had never entered school, he was aware of milk being a nutritious food which normally children of his age don't know and even if they know they don't understand.

A month later I saw him again. His phenomenal activity made clear to me that he was an authentic genius who was still unnoticed and this prompted me to felicitate a “tribute” to him through my writing. It was 10:30 am, Sunday. I was waiting at a meeting point for my friends. We were to go to college. A train was passing. I moved my head and saw him sitting at his tiny shop, which was made of two sacks and had no roof. And his seat was nothing special but merely a flat stone. The three divisions of flocks of lychee were left as his business products and each flock probably carried fifty lychees. There was a pot of condensed milk as his Cash Box. He was confused while counting money because of some calculation errors and he kept on trying until it matched. It suddenly dawned to me that one more flower will fade in this cruel world due to lack of observation.

In the evening, when I was returning home from college through the same fish market, I accidentally touched his body while I happened to walk past him. He was handing over a packet of tobacco to an owner of fish shop like a fag and the touch to his body made me feel heavenly bliss.

Interviews: Ashvamegh Vol.II Issue.XX September 2016

• Patty Dickson Pieczka (US based author) • Dr. Tushar Dashora (Author and Hindi Poet)

Find Ashvamegh on





Ashvamegh: Vol–II: Issue XX: September 2016 Patty Dickson Pieczka: Interview ISSN: 2454-4574 Introduction to the Author:

Patty Dickson Pieczka's main focus of writing has been poetry, but with Finding the Raven, she's branched out into fiction using the skills learned studying poetic imagery. Her second book of poetry, Painting the Egret's Echo, won the Library of Poetry Book Award for 2012 from the Bitter Oleander Press, and she was the featured poet in their Spring 2014 issue. Other awards include the Maria W. Faust Sonnet Contest in the Best Sonnet category, the ISPS poetry contest for 2012, Frances Locke Memorial Poetry Award for 2010, and a nomination for an

Illinois Arts Council Award. Other poetry books are Lacing Through Time (Bellowing Ark Press, 2011), and a chapbook, Word Paintings, (Snark Publishing, 2002). Patty graduated from the Creative Writing Program at Southern Illinois University. Alok Mishra: First of all, congratulations and thanks to you, dear Patty! Finding the Raven was a very pleasant read after so many days so many variations I have read recently! How many novels have you written before this one? Published and unpublished, both. Patty Dickson Pieczka: Thanks, Alok. I'm so happy you offered to interview me about finding the Raven. This is my only novel, my other published works being collections of poetry. I wrote the first draft of this manuscript 20 years ago, and it waited in a drawer for most of that time. But I'll start at the beginning of the writing process. About a month after my best friend died of cancer, I began dreaming in the form of poems. My father had been a poet and I grew up reading poetry, so this didn't seem too unusual to me, but rather a natural outlet for conversations my friend and I used to have every day. The first two poems came in complete form, and I wrote them down in the morning when I woke up. On the third night, I expected another poem, but nothing came. I knew that if I wanted another poem I'd have to write it myself, so I did. By this time, I was hooked and realized I wanted to write, so I went to John A. Logan College to sign up for a poetry class. When I arrived there, the only class available was fiction, so I took it. It was so interesting and so fun that when the class was over, I started writing this book, considering each chapter a short story. Since the book was one of my first efforts and not ready to be published, it waited in a drawer while I returned to poetry. Eventually my second book won the Library of Poetry Book Award for 2012 from The Bitter Oleander Press. At that point, I decided I might be ready to go back and

Ashvamegh: Vol–II: Issue XX: September 2016 Patty Dickson Pieczka: Interview ISSN: 2454-4574 breathe some life into that old novel. I removed all the dialogue, which sounded too stiff and formal, restructured the plot, and added a magic crystal, which gave me a reason to weave poetic imagery throughout the story. And this book is the result. It's based loosely on that first draft, but is completely different, with the exception of the setting and many of the characters. Alok Mishra: Honestly, reading your book reminded me of those syllabus readings — names, events, narrative, and a sense of "class!" Have you modeled your book on any particular style of certain author or is it entirely your own setup? Patty Dickson Pieczka: There are many writers, both poets and novelists, who I admire. They've touched and moved me and have certainly influenced my writing, but this idea to combine poetic imagery with fiction seemed like a natural process. In truth, after working on fiction, I began to miss poetry and found ways to incorporate it into the plot. What Julia saw in the Raven was extraordinary and seemed to beg for unusual wording, so this was my opening to combine poetry and fiction, but poetic imagery also seemed to work well in the more emotional scenes, such as when Eric was in jail. The first draft described how miserable conditions were, but it began to sound tedious to me, so I substituted several lines with, "Nighttime never slept. It gnawed on the day's bones with hungry teeth." That summed up the way Eric felt with an economy of words and in a far more vivid way. My goals for this project were to have realistic characters, accurate historical research and imaginative writing with an interesting plot, to bring poetry to the mainstream reader. Alok Mishra: I am very curious to know this, Patty, how did you first think about this book? How and from where did the idea come to write Finding the Raven? Patty Dickson Pieczka: My grandfather's brother was a hobo who traveled across the United States to live with Native Americans, and he wrote about his experiences. He went to Michigan to pick blueberries with Native Americans and joined their baseball team. I found it interesting that in a time when there was still so much fear and mistrust between whites and Native Americans, that he formed such a close bond with them. Then in 1904 he went through St. Louis and stopped at the World's Fair, though he didn't write much about it since he was on his way out West to visit some reservations. I wondered what he might have seen in St. Louis and who he might have met. I went to the SIU library to find microfilmed versions of St. Louis Post-Dispatch archives. So when Julia answers ads in the paper, it's the actual newspaper from April 2, 1904 that she reads. Alok Mishra: You have subsumed historical events, love, baseless revenge, Victorian realism, magic, pathos and also a touch of humor in your novel. How did you handle this amazing work and manage to give a flow to the narrative? At any time, did you say "Oh! How did Eric remain aloof from the scene for so long? I should bring him on the line now!"? It's on a lighter note only. I mean did you find it any trouble in compiling the narrative to a successful and beautiful novel?

Ashvamegh: Vol–II: Issue XX: September 2016 Patty Dickson Pieczka: Interview ISSN: 2454-4574 Patty Dickson Pieczka: I didn't follow an outline but instead allowed the story to set its own pace. One of my favorite quotes is from Robert Frost, who said, "No surprise to the writer, no surprise to the reader." This book continually surprised me. It seems that our job as writers is to get out of the way of the characters and let them create their own story. This may sound odd to anyone who doesn't write fiction, but those who do have most likely noticed the phenomenon of characters taking on their own personalities and actions to do things the writer hasn't authorized. It's an enthralling process. Still, at times, the characters would get themselves into a corner, and I had to step in and guide them. Each time I finished a chapter, I'd read it aloud to my husband. Sometimes he and I would discuss plot ideas, some of them very far-fetched, but others which worked well. I truly loved every minute of writing this book and being transported back to 1904 with none of the hardships. Alok Mishra: If I am honest, you have made some categories in the novel — Mr. Pilmers, Mr. Morrises, Hermans, Roses, Julias, and many others. How did you get the idea for your characters who are so lively? Patty Dickson Pieczka: Contrary to the disclaimer, nearly all of the characters are real people or combinations of the character traits of several people I know. Mr. Fletcher, for example, had qualities of both my father and the broker/owner of the realty company where I used to work. Captain Victor was my first husband, who is now deceased but truly did have a photographic mind. Mister Morris was a conglomeration of several men I met while working at the Board of Trade in Chicago. Alok Mishra: In Chapter 5 of the book Finding the Raven, you have used a phrase Colonial-style mansion. Moreover, there are numerous instances in your book where the critical reader can decipher that the perception of class-difference reins the minds of the characters. For instance, "she looked at him [Charles] as though a bug crawled up next to her…" Do these only hint at realistic images of those days or something else, Patty? Patty Dickson Pieczka: The snobbery of the aristocratic class was a constant obstacle for Rose to overcome, and one of her main life lessons. Mrs. Hillman had spent much effort becoming one of the social elite, but her daughter found that the best friends weren't the ones with the most money. They were the people who would be there for her when she was in trouble and needed help. Julia was not a person Rose's family would have approved of, but still, they became best friends. These class distinctions seem to be borderless and timeless, unfortunately, and with the middle class statistically shrinking, class extremes are becoming greater than ever in this country. Alok Mishra: If critics ask you, why Raven as a metaphor in this book, what would be your answer? Patty Dickson Pieczka: The title of the first draft was A Long Way Home, which had to do with an extensive kidnapping plot. (As I mentioned, the two versions are very different). When I began the second writing, the thought kept entering my mind that the title is Finding the Raven. This made no sense to the plot at that time, but as I continued, and the idea of the crystal materialized,

Ashvamegh: Vol–II: Issue XX: September 2016 Patty Dickson Pieczka: Interview ISSN: 2454-4574 I knew it had to be black, and I knew it would be called the Raven. It works also in that the Raven allows Julia's mind to fly to places she would not otherwise know. Alok Mishra: Julia, who throughout helps people, supports Rose, makes things good around her, gets almost an intriguing scene for her life at the end of the novel. Why did you think it that way, Patty? My reading also suggested that Monroe was in love with Julia and I almost shared Julia's feelings. Your comments about the ending of the novel? Patty Dickson Pieczka: *Spoiler Alert* I tried to keep the characters realistic, and it didn't ring true for me that both Rose and Julia would have the same happy and romantic ending. Monroe was a "love the one you're with" type. When he was with Julia, I believe he truly did love her, but as soon as he left, he was in love with life, with traveling, with any woman who crossed his path, with Darla. Maybe he was planning to give Julia the emerald necklace but changed his mind at the last minute. We'll never know. In some ways, Julia did have a happy ending, but she had to learn a few difficult lessons. Alok Mishra: The crystal that Julia fortunately finds hidden in the Buddha "bought from a secondhand shop" is black. However, it shows everything bright and true. What are your views about visions in real life and also, your views about the Clarices of real life? Might I compare her to Eliot's Madame Sosostris? Patty Dickson Pieczka: I believe we all have a certain amount of psychic ability, but some of us choose to listen to our inner voice, our intuition, and others don't. Once I had a dream that my roommate's boyfriend lost his shoe. In the morning, my roommate told me, "You know, Robert's lost so much, and he only has one boot." This was not an important fact for me to know, but for some reason my dream told me about his shoe. I wondered why I didn't dream something worthwhile, such as the lottery number or a future stock market report. Unlike Eliot's Madame Sosostris, who had a "bad cold" and used "a pack of wicked cards," a blank card and cards that wouldn't exist in a real Tarot deck, such as the drowned Phoenician sailor, Clarice was the real thing. In Chapter 10 she says: I send my shadow into the night, and it brings back secrets. The wind whispers in my ear, and spirits visit my dreams. All these herbs and roots are helpful, but do you know what the real magic is? The truth. The little voice in our hearts——God's own voice, telling us what we need to know. Most people aren't open enough or trusting enough to listen to it, so they pay me to tell them what they already know. All I have to do is hold a mirror up to them, and they're shocked by what they see. Truth is the brightest light, and sometimes it blinds us to look at it. Still, Clarice had some frustration that she didn't always see the full picture. For example, she saw someone drop the heavy weight on Julia's father but couldn't see that person's face.

Ashvamegh: Vol–II: Issue XX: September 2016 Patty Dickson Pieczka: Interview ISSN: 2454-4574 Alok Mishra: Thanks for your time, dear Patty! It was really wonderful reading your book and then talking to you about Finding the Raven! I wish you all the success for this book and all your ventures in the future! Patty Dickson Pieczka: Thanks so much, Alok. I've really enjoyed our interview!

Ashvamegh Interview Introduction to the Author:

Dr. Tushar Dashora is currently working as a Pediatrician & Consultant Neonatologist and NICU in-charge at the Soni Hospital, Jaipur-Rajasthan. He is a medical graduate (MBBS) from Grant Medical College, Mumbai-Maharashtra. He did his post-graduation (M.D.) in Pediatrics from R.N.T. Medical College, Udaipur-Rajasthan. Further, he also did a Post-Doctoral Certificate Course (PDCC) in Adolescent Medicine. He has also done a Fellowship in Neonatology from Amrita Institute of Medical Sciences (AIMS), Kochi-Kerala. He is also a certified trainer in Emotional Intelligence and energetically conducts

sessions for parents on Parenting with Emotional Intelligence & Developing E.Q.

Besides his professional & medical interests, he is a poet & expresses himself in both Hindi & Urdu. His first published book in Hindi is “Gaflat” is a collection of Ghazals & nazms (poetry).

Besides his medical achievements, he is also a strong believer in the ancient values of the Indian (Vedic) civilization& harbors keen interest in the scientific basis of religious teachings & spiritual instructions. Joined by his wife Dr.Smita Dashora he energetically conducts sessions on "Fetal Learning & impressions" or the Garbh-Sanskar way. He has interacted with experts & learned people from various walks of life ranging from Doctors, Engineers, CAs, Teachers, and Biologists to various Spiritual Masters from different clans and religions. In this Second book “Spiritual secrets of Pregnancy & Childbirth” he has tried to compile the various practices recommended in ANCIENT VEDIC LITERATURE and has also discussed the scientific validity of such practices.

This book is a unique attempt to amalgamate science with its higher counter-part i.e."Spiritual science”. In this book he also shares the various practices recommended for expecting women which have unequivocally found to have a definite impact on the "learning" & "behavior" of the unborn baby.

This book is a must read for all expecting couples who wish to utilize this ancient wisdom to achieve holistic health for the "mother & baby" duo during the three stages of "Conception, Pregnancy & childbirth"....

Ashvamegh Interview Alok Mishra: Dr. Tushar, I would like to begin by telling you that your book is one of those rare ones which my father reads before me! How did you do that? How could you think of a theme which is so different?

Tushar Dashora: Oh, yes .... why not? This is actually one of the commonest compliment I receive from my readers. Many expecting women and would-be fathers call to tell me that the book is being read by their Moms and Dads with equal enthusiasm! You know even my workshop on “Grbh-Sanskar” is attended by parents and in-laws of the expecting ladies in a good number.

Actually, we Indians have deep spiritual roots and wherever we are we love to know more about spirituality. Further, the more we mature the more our yearning for the "Real knowledge".

Hence, I consider it as a blessing for my book whenever I hear that a senior person has been showing interest in it! Pay my regards to your father and tell him I seek his blessings too.

Alok Mishra: Being a doctor yourself, dear Tushar, anyone might ask you this, how were you able to create a concomitance of science and spirituality in your book?

Tushar Dashora: A common mistake is that we think that "Spirituality" is something totally different from "Science" failing to observe that Science is just the "revealed“ part of Spirituality or one may say that Spirituality is concealed science!

Today there is definite proof (scientific and evidence based) that practices such as "Meditation" and "chanting" lower Blood pressure and de-stress an individual. Even "Lancet" the well-known medical journal published an interesting study about impact of praying by relatives on the health of patient! You know the Forward to my book has been written by the renowned Neurologist Dr.Ashok Pangariya (Padma Shri Awardee)..... He is a reputed academician and a well-known medical scientist....and you see in the forward he stresses on the same fact that in his entire medical career he encountered numerous circumstances of so called "miraculous recoveries" which couldn't be explained on purely rational basis. You may be surprised to know that he himself has thoroughly researched in the so-called "occult" sciences ranging from yoga to Astrology ...... So there is a "missing piece" in our understanding!

In short, what I mean to say here is that the "age-old" Vedic scriptures do contain a treasure of knowledge about the growth and development of human foetus in the womb and advises practices which can be utilized by all of us without much hassles and without any cost!

Why not make use of them?

Ashvamegh Interview

Alok Mishra: How did you prepare yourself for such an important book? You have mentioned your meeting with Dr. Lalit and the story he told. However, what did you do after that?

Tushar Dashora: I have an honest confession to make here. This book has been prepared based on our observations of the effects of various Vedic practices such as yoga, chanting and meditation etc. by pregnant women at our Ante-natal centre of "PRETTY-MOM”. This centre is actually the brain-child of my able wife Dr. Smita Dashora (who is a Gynaecologist herself and dedicatedly running programmed ante-natal classes at Jaipur).

And whenever we did our Garbh-sanskar workshop sessions we got numerous calls and messages from different parts of the country from woman and men that they can’t attend the session (travelling is always a no-no in pregnancy) but would gladly read if some readable material could be provided to them.

So then we have literally collected information both by interacting with spiritual masters and also reading a good lot of scriptures. Then we merged that information with the data collected over last few years from women who actually practiced these culminating into the final product as this book “Spiritual secrets of Pregnancy and childbirth”.

So, whatever we are saying here in the book has already been practiced by hundreds of expecting woman already!

Regarding the latter part of your question:

After meeting Dr. Lalit Kothari, I could actually gather back my courage to compile, organize and ponder over the "scientific basis of the ancient Garbh-Sanskar practices". I also delved deeper into the scriptures to know more and met a good number of scholars, spiritual guides and "Gurus" to get an accurate account of the scriptures.

Alok Mishra: Dr. Tushar, you have done a tremendous job in collecting mantras and citations from all the ancient scriptures! As you have already mentioned, you were sceptic at the first instance about the idea of this book. However, now, as the book Spiritual Secrets of Pregnancy & Childbirth is getting a lot of positive responses, how do you feel about it?

Tushar Dashora: Thanks a lot for appreciating this fact. In fact, you'll be surprised to learn that this is book is unique in a sense that it is the only book which contains a whole list of specific prayers for pregnancy (which can be recited by would-be mother, father or any other family member).

And not only this, I have also made an effort to put both the Hindi and English translation of the particular prayer and other scriptures with it. (In fact, Garbh-Geeta has been translated in English for the first time ever).

Ashvamegh Interview So the reader will have an advantage of knowing the correct pronunciation in Sanskrit and the meaning also with it.

Oh sure! The response to the book is overwhelming.... I'm truly elated to see it do well both online and offline. In fact, it is being received well overseas too! And you're asking me how I feel? Not only that I feel good about the way readers have responded but I also feel proud about the "accuracy” and "exactness" of the knowledge of our forefathers from Vedic era!

Well, each one of us should share this pride, shouldn’t we?

Alok Mishra: In chapter 10, you have talked about abortion and its Karmic effects. First of all, let me congratulate you again on this chapter! Abortion is bad; and it’s bad; and it’s just bad! Now that you have tried to convey the effects of abortion in the terms of religion, it’d be better for those who understand only the language of religion. I would like you to throw some light to it.

Tushar Dashora: It is so good that you brought up this question! You must have watched the Olympics. So tell me who stole the show? Daughters and Daughters only! ....Isn't it true? ....then why do people commit the heinous act of "Female foeticide" ?

See what has happened over the past centuries that our people were raided and looted by various foreign invaders. As a result, female child or a daughter was considered as a potential "liability" or a "weak-point” for the common people. The social practice of "Dowry" was introduced later.

The downtrodden Indian masses feared the abduction and all other kind of ghastly crimes against their daughters and if she survived then they had to arrange for "Dowry" to get her married.

Hence, eventually they started getting rid of the female child immediately after birth. The introduction of sonography technology and the added legitimacy of abortion compounded this problem(Act,1972).

So, people with help of greedy Doctors started identifying "Female" babies in womb and started getting rid of them even before they were born!

But did they know the "Karmik" implications of this act? No! Or they would never have misadventures like this!

See, Karma Laws are simple! "As you sow, so shall you reap"....

Nowadays, it is not uncommon to see couples struggling with "infertility" despite of all physiological normalcies! Does modern science answer this? An emphatic NO!

How many childless couples can get a baby with help of modern techniques? Only 30%! Why?

Ashvamegh Interview Isn't this a common observation that as soon as a childless couple adopt a child, soon the couple is blessed with a baby of their own! How come this happens? It is because of the "past life" karmic bondage clearing up.

So, as I mentioned earlier that we all have strong spiritual roots and we should trace back the origin of knowledge to them. No intelligent human being should ever cause or help in causing abortion, just for the sake of avoiding birth of a baby of particular gender! This act has strong Karmic obligations!

And yes, even the Doctor or medical personal involved will have to suffer to pay off that Karmic debt.

One should read my book for further details about the same.

Alok Mishra: In the book, you have mentioned a poem by Khalil Gibran, talks of Osho, Upnishadas, Garbh Gita and then also, Sigmund Freud! How these things got together in your mind? And then, how the readers should enjoy the best of it? Can they read the chapters in isolation? It’d be the best if you could clarify these please for our readers.

Tushar Dashora: Yes, you are correct!

The book flows through a ocean of knowledge, which receives numerous tributaries ranging from Khalil Gibran to Upnishads to Osho and Sigmund Freud and many, many others “the Mother”, Swami Sivananda and the list goes on...

See the "real" knowledge or the "Final" conclusions of all these people have been similar despite of differences in their background and their source of knowledge! So, at the pinnacle all knowledge merges.....how these things got together in my mind is because I did a lot of research in all kinds of fields before embarking on to write this book.

I have conveyed thoughts of a range of stalwarts in the spiritual and mystical field so that would-be mothers from all religions and all backgrounds can relate to the content of the book and benefit from it.

Yes, intentionally the book has been arranged in such a manner that the reader can read it from any chapter....so while waiting for your turn at the Doctor's OPD or even while travelling, one can just flip through the pages and select an interesting topic and read it. The chapters have been kept short intentionally so one may finish a topic in same breath!

Alok Mishra: I also think often that there is a need; there is a space in life in want of spirituality and religious quotient. How do you think that your book can be of help on this to the people?

Ashvamegh Interview Tushar Dashora: See! The moment you're free from the mundane and day-to-day problems, you immediately ponder over the source and the ultimate culmination of this life...

This is basic human tendency... we yearn for the absolute "truth" and the absolute "knowledge".

So, when you say that there is space in life in want of religious and spirituality quotient, I wish to rectify it by stating that:

"We are not human beings who undergo temporary spiritual experience... but we are actually SPIRITUAL beings going through a temporary human experience…!”

So instead of just segregating a small space for Spirituality, we should rather just realize the fact that Spirituality is the biggest "set" which encompasses all other sub-sets such as "religion" or "humanity" or "science" and hence I reiterate that my book is not only meant for believers of the "Sanatan-Dharma"or "Hinduism" but it shall be beneficial for all humans irrespective of religion, country or origin.

And yes, in today's world if you see we all have progressed but the progress is limited to only "Materialistic” gains! Daily our newspapers and other media are full of news about "moral" degradation of humanity and incidences of lack of "empathy". Let me assure you that this book of mine talks about the long term impact of "maternal" yogic practices on the baby in womb! It is a proven medical fact that such babies are "happier" "content" and display high levels of "empathy" and "sensitivity".... so why we shouldn't use such proven knowledge for benefit of our people and why not augment the process of "conception" and "birth" of happier babies!

You know if a pregnant mother meditates the baby also gets an unforgettable taste of meditation!

So, in short we are producing another spiritual being by infusing the right "samskars”!

Alok Mishra: You have mentioned the details for getting the desired qualities in the child-to-be-born. Though I do believe in the power of Mantras, as you have dedicated a section to those in your book as ‘Prayers for Pregnancy,’ is there any specific procedure to chant those Mantras? What do you suggest to the pregnant women who read your book?

Tushar Dashora: I'm so glad you asked this question! See all "mantras" are nothing but cosmic acoustic vibrations. They have the power to bring modification in both "sthula" and "sookshm" nature i.e. manifest and subtle reality and yes it is right that each mantra has a way of being chanted (if it is being chanted for a particular result or siddhi). I have categorically put the mantras in their original Sanskrit text so that right pronunciation can be done. Further to ease this all these mantras and prayers with their right pronunciation have been uploaded on the dedicated Facebook page of this book also. So the readers can listen to the audio and chant with the audio playing.

Ashvamegh Interview The most important message I have to convey here is that the maximal effect of the "mantra"can be achieved, if the person who plans to chant does the chanting after taking a bath and in a quiet, peaceful room. The chanting should be done in such a way that the "mantra" is spoken in an audible manner and heard also. This way the baby in womb would also be able to hear the sound and subtle impressions would be created.

Further, here I would like to state that much misinformation and apprehension is spread on unlikely effects of the “mantra” if it is not chanted properly. I harbour no doubt in stating here that the Lord or God himself should be envisioned as the Universal mother “MAA” or the one and Only Holy Father.

Then you tell me whether the mother or father of a child would feel offended if their name is not pronounced properly by their immature child or if the child lisps or stammers?

You see the mother comes rushing to her child in no manner what the child call for her!

It is the intent with which the Lord’s name is chanted and not the method!

The method has an importance but it is always secondary. One need not worry much if the pronunciation becomes erroneous or there are minor mistakes as it is the "faith" and the "feeling" or bhawna which is more important while chanting the name of the Lord.

If while chanting the particular sutras the meaning is also pondered upon than it will have a multi-fold beneficial effect on the unborn baby (both the Hindi and English translation of the Sanskrit prayer have been included for this purpose).

Last but not the least, even the black and white sketches interspersed through the book serves a specific purpose. They are there so that the reader can focus his/her gaze on the particular image and perform "Trataka" on them (constant gazing).

Alok Mishra: As your book Spiritual Secrets of Pregnancy and Childbirth is already enjoying a great success, what are your plans? Any ideas to our readers for your next book, Dr. Tushar?

Tushar Dashora: Oh yes! With the grace of lord, it is really doing well. I shall soon be planning a kindle edition of this book.

Well about the next book? It is already in print and is a poetic translation of "Bhagwad Gita"... and this one is also unique in certain aspects, which I shall reveal soon.

But now I'm receiving messages from my readers that they want a book focussed on "Spiritual guidance" on planning a child.

So… I may soon start research on the same...

So whenever "Maa Saraswati" pleases, I will be able to pen something.

Ashvamegh Interview Alok Mishra: Thanks for your time! It was a pleasure reading your book and talking to you about that. I wish you best of luck for the future!

Tushar Dashora: Thanks... It was indeed a pleasure to answer your questions...

Thanks once again!

Book Reviews: Ashvamegh Vol.II Issue.XX September 2016

• Finding The Raven by Patty Dickson Pieczka • Spiritual Secrets of Pregnancy & Childbirth by Dr. Tushar Dashora

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Ashvamegh: Vol–II: Issue XX: September 2016 Pieczka: Finding The Raven ISSN: 2454-4574 Book – Finding The Raven

Author – Patty Dickson Pieczka

Publisher – Ravenswood Publishing (2016)

Page Numbers – 290

Buy the book: Amazon India Link

Reviewed by – Alok Mishra

We, the enthusiasts of literature, often fall back to the words of T. S. Eliot to find the clue of what was the early 20th century like. To understand the social evolution, financial conditions, arts, science, and many other things, people get back to the texts concerning the particular query. What if I say you that there is a book which will let you enjoy a beautiful glimpse of everything possible about the early 20th century? Probably, you will not believe me! However, Finding The Raven, a book (novel) by Patty Dickson Pieczka, is a remarkably well-crafted fiction, revolving around the St. Louis World's Fair of 1904, which will surely leave you undone once you read it! There is realism in the novel; there is love & romance in the story; there are the hints of magic in the fiction; there is a mockery of the class difference that gripped the world once (perhaps we did not come out of the grip yet); simply, there are the things that make you decorate a book with an adjective like 'class'! I am surely impressed with the storytelling of Patty and her selection of theme as well as the style of the novel's progress.

To me, a typical Victorian model functions in the novel. However, Patty Dickson Pieczka, the experienced author, has made sure that she makes her own style and does not get influenced by any other's. The central theme of the novel is undoubtedly the Romance between Rose and Eric along with Julia and Monroe. The story of Rose and Eric is moving one; started as an 'ice cream parlour romance' the love affair moves through many different situations - Rose becomes pregnant; she is made to leave the Hillman's Mansion by her father; she spends some time as a tenant in Mrs. McKinney's boarding house before getting married unfortunately to Herman; finally, she meets her love back and they both, Rose and Eric are happily married in the end. Well, it sounds like a simple love story with usual chaotic situations in the middle. However, let me assure you, it is not! There is another story of self-realization, getting out of the fortune, losing everything to the mighty hands of time and a confrontation with the miracle - the black crystal which guides the later half of the novel. Julia and the magic crystal of Gipsies and the metaphor Raven, these are the interesting elements of the novel and you will surely like these.

There are some humorous incidents in the novel which later seem to be a mockery of the society we live in. Everyone in this world is looking for favours, come it in any possible way. Starting from Mr. Pilmer and going to Herman, the beasts in the form of men are always there

https://www.amazon.com/Finding-Raven-Patty-Dickson-Pieczka-ebook/dp/B01E11ILY0#nav-subnav

Ashvamegh: Vol–II: Issue XX: September 2016 Pieczka: Finding The Raven ISSN: 2454-4574 'raking their eyes from breasts to hips and back to breasts' of women in the society. To the relief, there are good people also in the novel as well in the world.

The verdict is that I find Finding The Raven a book written with somewhat called a 'class'. I have read many novels recently but it stands entirely apart from those 'daily piles of papers'. You will surely feel it in the characterisation, the plot, the narration and also the wide wisdom of Patty, the author. Julia is the most powerful character in the novel and in the end, she takes a brave decision. You will like the tender Rose and constant Eric. You will also like the flamboyant Monroe. However, I am sure you will love Julia!

If you want to make you weekend soothing, go and grab a copy from the Amazon online store and enjoy the read - Finding the Raven might also lead you to find yours! A great work by Patty Dickson indeed!

Ashvamegh: Vol–II: Issue XX: September 2016 Dashora: Spiritual Secrets of Pregnancy & Childbirth ISSN: 2454-4574 Book – Spiritual Secrets of Pregnancy & Childbirth

Author – Dr. Tushar Dashora

Publisher – Oxford Book Company

Page Numbers – 166

Buy the book: Amazon India Link

Reviewed by – Alok Mishra

I am one of those kinds of readers who don't settle with a single genre; however, they constantly keep looking for a something which is constant along with the variation - and I call it 'class'! Be it a fiction or non-fiction, there must be a class in the book so that it might attract the readers from different sects (based on age and interest). If the book misses that, we have all the liberty to call it by names. such as teen romance, business, motivational book, leisure fiction etc. Fortunately, I got a book to read last month which has it, the thing called class and it did not only appeal me, but also my father and other members of the family. The book 'Spiritual Secrets of Pregnancy and Childbirth' by Dr. Tushar Dashora is an extensively researched book, or you may say guide for the parents, would be parents and simply anyone who want to know the spirituality involved in our existence.

Being a medical professional himself, he has done a remarkable job in giving us a widened passage into the realms of spirituality which we must know in order to understand the 'causes and effects'. Dr. Tushar has worked hard in collecting the mantras and instances from our ancient texts and literature. These mantras are very useful for expecting mothers who have a spiritual tuning with life. Not only that, the couples who just want to understand various other dimensions of pregnancy and childbirth, should surely read Tushar's book. I also wondered how can a person be so authoritative of the things he is talking in the book, when I first saw the book. However, my doubts were clarified when I got a chance to discuss the book with the author himself. Dr. Smita Dashora, the wife of Tushar, and Tushar himself run a centre called Pretty Mom and this centre organizes various workshops for would-be mothers. All those well-tested practices are texted in the book form and thus, the author has the first-hand experience! You can also read Tushar's interview here to learn more.

Spiritual Secrets of Pregnancy and Childbirth, to tell you what it contains, provides you the instances from Garbh Gita, Osho, Gibran, and various other mythological and religious texts. Also, the book talks about the karmic effects of abortion and very wonderfully guides the readers why we should avoid it.

http://www.amazon.in/Spiritual-Secrets-Pregnancy-Childbirth-Dashora/dp/9350302829

Ashvamegh: Vol–II: Issue XX: September 2016 Dashora: Spiritual Secrets of Pregnancy & Childbirth ISSN: 2454-4574 Whether the expecting parents or not, just to spend some time in doing something worth, you should go through this book and understand what is hidden in our ancient texts about the progress of human life in the womb. You will surely be surprised to know the facts that this book will offer you. Moreover, the expecting moms will have too many things to make them feel better in the form of practices. However, do follow the instructions given in the book or you can also contact the author himself with the contact details given in the book. I hope you will have a good read!

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