Showing posts with label 201706E. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 201706E. Show all posts

Interview: Ryan Quinn Flanagan

Ryan Quinn Flanagan
Ryan Quinn Flanagan is a Canadian-born author residing in Elliot Lake, Ontario, Canada with his other half and many hungry bears that rifle through his garbage.  His work can be found both in print and online in such places as: Evergreen Review, The New York Quarterly, Setu, Word Riot, In Between Hangovers, Literary Yard, Myna Birds, Red Fez, and The Oklahoma Review.  His website is: http://ryanquinnflanagan.yolasite.com/

Nalini Priyadarshni is the author of Doppelganger in My House and co author of Lines Across Oceans.  Her poems have appeared in numerous literary journals, podcasts and international anthologies including Mad Swirl, Camel Saloon, Dukool etc.  Her poems and views on poetry and life have been featured on AIR (All India Radio) and FM radio. Nalini’s has been nominated for 2017 Top Female Writers by The Author’s Show.com for her book Doppelganger in My House. She lives in India with her husband and two feisty kids.

Ryan Quinn Flanagan interviewed by Nalini Priyadarshni


Nalini – Thank you so much, Ryan, for taking time to answer these questions. You are one of the most prolific and most widely published poets I know. What inspires you in life and literature? 

RQF- When I was younger there was definitely great literature you come across that you have not read and it truly does change your life. It is really just more of the small things in everyday life now.  I am a people watcher and get a lot from that. I learned early on that when you listen instead of speak you don’t miss the good stuff. Great music is inspiring, as I imagine it is for many people. I think music can capture you so emotively in a way that other art forms cannot.
I would be remiss if I did not mention that I only joined social media seven months ago, and that I have met many cool artists of all stripes doing their thing on a daily basis. That is inspiring for me – to see cool people creating and doing their thing. 


Nalini Priyadarshni
Nalini - Seven months!! Interesting. For me, facebook proved to be a turning point. One of the books I co authored, Lines Across Oceans, was written almost entirely on facebook with a friend I have never met and connected only over facebook. How do you think social media with its power to connect people we are unlikely to meet otherwise and their diverse opinions and world views affect any artist?

 RQF- For me, social media opened everything up.  I have now connected with many talented people from all over the world, most of whom I will likely never meet in person.  But I am able to follow what they are working on as well as things going on in their lives, and they can do the same with me.  I have never co-authored a book almost entirely over Facebook such as you have, but social media does make such an endeavour possible.  It really opens up new areas for people to do some amazing DIY collabs, get the word out about local readings to a wider audience, and for fine artists certainly to get there worked viewed by more people than ever before which is great!

Nalini - When did you decide to be a writer? What do you prefer- poetry or prose? Why?  

RQF- There was never a point where I sat there and said “I’m going to be a writer now.” I guess I have just always written things and that trend continues. As you publish some of it, people call you a writer, but I don’t make enough money to survive on my writing so I don’t personally consider myself a writer. I also have a mental condition called Hypergraphia which is a compulsion to write things down. It I were not writing poems, there would be a lot more grocery lists laying around. So it is nice to find a venue for your work instead of just scrawling on the backs on envelopes or in the margins of newspapers.

I prefer to write poetry because it is hard for me to stay focussed on a single linear thought for too long, so poetry provides that little short burst or moment when you can capture something, and then quickly move on. Prose takes more time and patience so I do not really write it that much. I do have a collection of short stories that is presently in the editing phase, but the rest is predominantly poetry. I have also started working on a novel, but to stay with a thought that long will be quite the challenge for me.

Nalini - Your poetry is marked by its raw and honest appeal. While for some it is refreshing for others it is vulgar. How do you handle the extreme reactions it provokes?  

RQF- To be honest, most of the feedback I get now is positive. Most the negative reactions are so negative that the editors or whomever they may be just never write you back. So I guess that silence is all they have to say about that, but the reactions I actually receive tend to be quite reassuring. They are usually from other people writing when they can and grinding it out, so they seem to be a lot more understanding. As for some of the vulgarity of the work, there is this great James Joyce quote from when Ulysses was being banned and the publishers wouldn’t touch it, and Joyce said: “If Ulysses is not fit to read, then life isn’t fit to live.” Because there was nothing in his book that was not going on every day in the streets of Dublin. He just had the audacity to say it, and that is what shocked them. I always loved that. He was just trying to capture life as best he could, and it was not the vulgarity of his writing, but rather the vulgarity of life that caused offense.  

Nalini- I like that, immensely. Have you ever been judged by those around you based on your writings? How does your family react to it? 

 RQF- Some have called my work offensive.  Most in day-to-day life don’t even know that I write.  My older friends never really comment that much on most of my writing as they are not artistically inclined.  I was born in a small-minded cow town where you loved hockey or football or both.  There was no arts scene and certainly no time for art.  Really it was just a redneck town full of jocks and failed jocks.  Likewise, my family has never recognized or supported my writing.  I imagine they would not like it and consider it a waste of time.  But my wife supports me completely and having that support is so greatly appreciated.  

Nalini - Rejections are an indispensable part of any poet’s life. How do you deal with it? 

RQF- Quite well, I think. When I was starting out I didn’t heard back from any of my submissions most the time. No acceptance or rejection. And it happened so much over the years that I began to feel good about even the rejections in some strange way as though they had the decency to write me back and that is something. Acceptances are always better of course. And the total silence does not happen so much anymore. Either way I just move on, what else can you do? Life is much too short to worry about this stuff. 

Nalini - What is your worst fear? 

RQF- That reincarnation is real, and that I will come back without any of the knowledge I’ve gained and have to start all over again. As a completely new person who listens to Britney Spears and grows a man bun and thinks Kafka is a specialty coffee shop. That terrifies me. That you could come back like that and have no idea. Or perhaps come back as a garden slug or a urine puck or something. I really hope reincarnation is not real or doesn’t work like that. I have this Indian friend who told me you only go up with reincarnation as you reach toward a fully realized spiritual being, so that you can’t go backwards. That is a nice thought. I hope to he is right.

Nalini- Out of all your poems, those that smacked me on the head include “A thing for the Ladies” and “Persecution is a Team Sport.” They belong to the extremes of the spectrum. One sounds too up close and personal for comfort and other is too distant and impersonal yet empathetic. Tell us something about how you treat both personal and impersonal with equal gusto?  

RQF- “A Thing for the Ladies” is very personal and something that actually happened to me.  Conversely, “Persecution is a Team Sport” is completely impersonal and never happened to me.  But it has happened to others, and I’ve always had the ability to step outside myself rather easily and empathize with others or see things from a multitude of perspectives. I’ve written poems from the perspective of a plate or a table, and then turned around and wrote something deeply personal about my boyhood dog or mental illness. When people are in their late teens/early adulthood it is said they realize who they are and form a cohesive being or personality. I don’t think I ever did. And that is why I can jump so easily from one thing to the other. I never really formed a single coherent self. That has definitely hurt me in my daily existence, but is a definite benefit when writing I should think.  

Persecution is a Team Sport
The potato sack over his head
reeked of potatoes
and he wanted to complain
to the flight attendant
but he spoke no English
and was pretty sure there was
no flight attendant
on this flight.
      
There was nothing, in fact.
Just the noise of the plane engines
for many hours.

And when it landed
he was wheeled into some kind
of air hanger
surrounded by many angry men
in uniform
           
who wanted to know
what he didn’t
know

for months,

electrocuting
his testicles many times
as if he were a
light bulb

that wouldn’t
answer.

 Nalini - How has writing poetry and having it published all over the world changed your life? 

RQF- Not that much, at all. I still get up each morning and do the same things I’ve always done. I eat and shower most days and try to grind out a living best I can just like everyone else. The writing has given me something that helps in a personal therapeutic sense, but day-to-day existence is the same. There’s a mortgage and bills and dishes to be put away and writing poetry will not change that.  
The one area where it seems to have made a difference is that I have met many other cool people doing their thing that I would not have otherwise. People that I have never met in person, but talk to on almost a daily basis. Social media has really opened up the world in that respect. Before I was on social media, I lived like a hermit crab with basically no idea of what was going on or what other people were doing. That has changed in a big way.

Nalini - The world we live in today is very different from the world our parents lived. It has shrunk definitely and has brought together likeminded individuals but at the same time there is a lot of intolerance and hatred too. Maybe we humans are not yet ready to deal with our diversity and differences. Please comment.   

RQF- I think a lot of the intolerance comes from people not being able to deal with their own lives, so they deflect such negative feelings out at the world instead as a form of defense mechanism.  Jimi Hendrix said something to the effect that he didn’t think people would be fighting wars in the streets or wherever if they were at peace with themselves, but the internal war shot all the negativity out into the world.  It was really just people’s own insecurities with themselves.  I thought that was quite wise and perceptive and agree with such sentiments greatly.

Nalini - If you could, what advice would you give to your younger self? 

RQF- Don’t sweat the things you cannot control. The things that seem so important really aren’t. And lose any dumb strutting peacock ego you may have. Be humble. The world will go on with or without you in it. Just relax as best you can, and try to be a good person. So, little else really matters in the end.    

Nalini - Is there any writing routine or ritual that you follow?  

RQF- There is, but it has switched. I used to stay up all night with some wine or beer and write. Then I would make dinner at about 4 am. I keep to a more normal schedule these days. I write during the day and go to bed at a reasonable hour so that I can function the next day. I still always write to music and with wine or beer or something to loosen things up. I have a separate office workspace that is closed off and never used for anything else when I am not writing.  

Nalini - Where can people find out more about you and your work? 

RQF- I post a lot of the published poems up on my Facebook page if people wish to get a pretty good cross-section of the stuff and there is plenty online. I also post any interviews or blogs and such. I have a personal website: http://ryanquinnflanagan.yolasite.com/ which has some poems, all my books for sale, photos, interviews and contact information etc.

You can also go to lulu.com or some of the individual publisher’s websites, as well as Amazon, Barnes and Noble and some of the usual haunts.

A Thing for the Ladies
My father had a thing for the ladies.

The barely legal Asian
schoolgirl ladies
on the computer.

And when he went Saturday grocery shopping
with my mother
each weekend
I tried to find his ladies
but didn’t know the
password.

One Saturday
as I was sitting alone at the computer
I reached under the lip
of the swivel chair
and felt something dried
and crusty
flake off into my
hand.

There was also a half-dried
sort of mystery goo,
much like petroleum
jelly.

I lifted it too my nose
smelled it
it was briny.

I knew right away
and began to gag.

And then it hit me:
the realization that I was created
from the same primordial sex goo
pasted to my hand
from the underside of the
chair.

I was horrible to know that.

To know that parts of me
were likely smeared all over the couch cushions
of half the city
in Eastern Standard
Time.

I was the shot of love juice
that missed the upholstery,
nothing more.

It was all too much.
It was all too much.

Quick drying to my hand
like some fast acting
bonding agent.

And then I thought of my parents
out grocery shopping.

Of those hands fondling all the produce,
running slippery through the bean display
feeling tomatoes for ripeness
money –
and who knows what else –
switching hands.

Even at that early age
I thought of it:
the whole system of spew
and smear:
I thought of doorbells
paper routes
steering wheels
bread knives
playing cards
parking meters
sink faucets
door knobs
light switches
turnstiles
cash registers
receipts
art class scissors
handshakes
most of all…

And I thought of all the other hands
in all the other countries
on all the other continents:
gripping touching rubbing
fondling…
TOO MUCH! TOO MUCH!
I ran to the refrigerator
grabbed an egg from the carton
and squashed it into the mess
on the underside of
the chair.

(An egg and sperm
according to grade six
health class)

Trying to create
some genetic freak.
Some winged birdman
to fly away from all
of this.

 Thank you so much, Ryan, for taking time to answer these questions and sharing your poems. 

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Itinerant idiolects - 1

(Autobiographically speaking, with poetic flashes)
By U Atreya Sarma

“All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveller is unaware.”
– Martin Buber (1878-1965), Austrian-Israeli Philosopher

U Atreya Sarma
Perhaps there is none who is not fond of travel, for it refreshes you by taking you to new places, new environs, and new people. Especially when you feel you are caught in a grind, stuck in a rut. We should of course, plan our tour/travel well, lest it should turn into a hole of travail. It doesn’t matter whether you choose to visit a few or many places, but you should perform your itinerary at leisure – so as to enjoy every bit and moment of it, relax and get reinvigorated, with no tearing hurry that makes you naggingly edgy. A tour packed with too many places in a limited time would be weary and monotonous and defeats its very spirit and purpose. Real travel is a happy translocation of both body and mind in unison.

While the travels of adventurers is an entirely different game, those of lesser mortals including me is just for fun and some breezy change for the better.

The memories of life’s travel have their different identities. Some of them may have seen the light of day having been shared either orally or in published form. Some of them lie dormant layer upon layer, and continue so, unless a fortuitous chance to invoke and tap them comes up.

Over to my childhood at my home town Kaikalur – a Taluk headquarters, on the perimeter of the Kolleru Lake in the Krishna district of Andhra Pradesh. Once a relatively backward Taluk, it is now vibrant with its agriculture and aquaculture. During every vacation my cousins from different places used to visit us, and we had all the fun, frolic and mischief the lads or lasses at the formative age would have. However, I missed out on, and ardently longed for something. Though they would invite me for a return visit, it never happened until a very later date, and that too sparsely. My father – the de facto paterfamilias – with his customised package of discipline and values, wouldn’t let me go out even in the small laid-back town, not to speak of venturing to other towns my cousins hailed from. Of course, he took me on his classy bicycle for a much awaited long ride of 10 kms to a pilgrim hamlet – Bhogeswaram, on a Maha Shiva Ratri day. My eyes were filled with the wonder of everything around – people in hordes making it by every means of travel, the variety of stalls – of eats and playthings – and the amusement fixtures. The lake at the Bhogeswara temple would send out three big bubbles in succession whenever you chanted ‘Hara Hara’ aloud, in devotion. But at that time, only one bubble was active. Local history had it that the other two had disappeared because of some sacrilege at the spot some time ago.

However, a few years later, I was allowed the luxury of travelling to the city of Vijayawada, where some of my cousins lived. Though it was mid-summer, we the children would sneak out and wander about the roads even when the sun blazed over the top of our heads – in that city, at that time called Bezawada, and facetiously nicknamed ‘Blaze-wada’ because of its dauntingly hot weather. We would walk around miles and miles. It didn’t affect us; we carried no hat or umbrella; not even a bottle of water. Whenever we felt thirsty, we would draw water from the municipal taps or walk into a hotel and grab a glass of water from an unoccupied table.

The landscape of Vijayawada was fascinating with the Krishna River, the various canals that branched out of it and ran through the town, and on its soil stood proud and mighty hills – Mogalrajapuram Hill, Gandhi Hill and the Indra Kiladri. It is on the last that the famous temple of Kanaka Durga is located; and it’s atop this hill that the Mahabharata hero Arjuna is said to have performed his penance and obtained the Pasupata Astra from Lord Shiva. Every morning, the hills beckoned us, and we would decide to walk up to and climb to the summit of the Indra Kiladri. But daily, we were stopped by a wide and deep canal; we weren’t savvy enough yet how to cross it. The next day we would repeat the exercise, hoping credulously, that the canal wouldn’t be there to snigger at and stall us. It was only after a year or two, my cousin and I succeeded in reaching the top of the Indra Kiladri; and felt on cloud nine. Like Edmund Hillary and Tensing who trekked up and stepped onto Mt Everest and about whom we were perhaps yet to learn.  I was about ten years old at that time. The fascination for the hilly eminences has continued and remains as intense even now. As I grew up, it pained me to see that many a hill was indiscriminately ravaged and razed down for man’s greedy construction projects or was encroached upon by all and sundry – in most cases on political instigation or collusion. We can, with our ultra-modern technology, easily level down a majestic hill. But can a million of us, with the aid of the same technology, build a hill? The nostalgia for the hills made me pen a few poems, and here is one of my unpublished ones, “The hill that beckoned” –

The hill that beckoned

There was that high hill yonder
At which I looked with wonder.
Hills are a thrill to climb;
So I started out to reach it.

A wide and deep brook came in the way
With no bridge or barge in sight;
So I walked back home
With a feeling of emptiness.

The next morning when I got up
With renewed hope; I sojourned afresh
Wishing that the stream wouldn’t block.
But lo! It still was there and with greater force.

This hill drill went on day by day
With a naughty nought
And an unravelling knot… …

Then years after, when I was back –
Having grown up from childhood,
And my studies far away elsewhere – 
The hill view was found eclipsed
By a close maze of high-rise buildings.

Nostalgic gusto charged into me;
And on a dawn I began my hill-ward journey.
I walked along the roads,
With an eerie frisson.
The stream grew still wider;
However it was kinder
With a bridge over
As its waistband.

Eureka!
First time cross I did
Successfully
And felt as if I’d won an Olympic medal.

I continued on…and on…
Did I lose my way?
No hill in sight…

At a landmark, on my enquiry
This fell into my deafened ears:
“The hill was long ago razed to the ground
To make room for skyscrapers to abound.”

Thus was how my nostalgic hill thrill
Came to be filled with a spiny chill.

In course of time, I joined the State Bank of India as a clerk-typist. My first posting was at Addanki, a historical town nestling on the banks of a rivulet – Gundlakamma. Geographically, it was located in the Prakasam District of Andhra Pradesh, and bank jurisdiction-wise in Hyderabad Circle. The sleepy town and its surroundings were fertile, irrigated by the right canal of Nagarjuna Sagar. Every two years the branches were subjected to a rigorous internal audit which rated their overall performance. The auditor was a senior official from within the bank but from another administrative Circle. He was held in much awe; the branch manager and staff knew that he could either make or mar the image of the branch. Rather crucially positioned in the branch functioning by the respective managers, I had opportunities of interacting with the auditor who came from a different background, from a different state, from a different language, and visited a maze of places as part of his duties. It sparked off a kind of wanderlust in me and an interest to think of ways of getting transferred to another Circle. But transfers, especially inter-Circle ones, were extremely difficult and very rare at that time. This was when I was at my hometown, on a request transfer from Addanki. Around that time, we received a circular from the bank’s Central Office calling for options to work as audit assistant in Sikkim on deputation. It was a godsend, and I applied for it, and began to float on air, lost in waves of euphoric dreams. …

And here is how I eventually recorded my Sikkim experiences:
 “I glide along into the land of magic
To conjure up memories nostalgic.
Refreshed with clean scenes and golden waters
I play the administrative trotter.
I do my bit to nourish the baby
And sing aright ditty after ditty
Witnessed by the Kanchenjunga ridges
As much water flows under its bridges.”

This was written, let me say, without ever visiting Sikkim; I have never visited that idyllic cradle of Himalayan land. I wasn’t selected for the Sikkim deputation; obviously the competition was much too stiff; maybe those from West Bengal or Bihar were selected.  In fact, I didn’t receive any yes or no from the bank.

But then why did I pen the above poem at all? Well, I have edited quite a few books, and one of them is Memoirs & Musings of an IAS Officer (Menaka Prakashan, Pune, 2013) by KV Natarajan, IAS (Retd) who served as Chief Secretary (1991-1992) and Vigilance Commissioner (1993-1998) of Andhra Pradesh.

While editing the book, I suggested to Natarajan that I would preface each chapter with an evocative quotation that would foreground the context of the chapter. The 360 + xiv pages book has nine chapters and I was able to identify an apt quotation for all the chapters except the longest one, that is Chapter VI. That chapter deals with his experience as Development Commissioner and with the beauties and culture of Sikkim, then an Indian protectorate – and it was merged into India as a full-fledged state during his tenure there. Thus the “I” in the poem is Natarajan himself. I said the poetic lines could be shown as his own creation, but, being a man of integrity, he insisted that my own authorship should be acknowledged.

I had applied for deputation to Sikkim in early 1970s, and it is about the same time that Natarajan happened to have his tenure there. Though I never visited Sikkim, at least I had spent months of time with someone, that too a senior IAS officer, who worked there. Isn’t it a rather epiphanic or serendipitous intersection? I had one more “connection” with Sikkim. I happened to know a Sikkim governor well enough – V Rama Rao, who had been earlier a long-time elected MLC from the Hyderabad graduates constituency. The well-respected leader and his well-respected physician father Dr V Appa Rao were friends of my father; for they had happened to live near Kaikalur, our native town, before they migrated to and settled down in Hyderabad. So can anyone deny that I was a visitor of Sikkim, though vicariously, of course?

Setu Anniversary, June 2017
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Poetry by Ramnath Sonawane

Dr Ramnath Sonawane
The Mother

From the warmest Heaven, the embryo saw a Devil with white apron,
Hatching a conspiracy with her kith and kin.
The embryo could smell,
The foul intentions of all but one.
The mother, who was given the choice to get aborted or divorced
The embryo was proud and happy.
A day came when,
She opened her eyes and felt the zephyr.
As the days passed by,
She started climbing the peaks of success and glory.
One day inquisitively she asked,
Why did you choose suffering and misery?
The mother replied,
How could have she conspired against her own flesh and blood?

ODE to my colleagues!!!

Into that realm of administration,
My Father, let my colleagues dwell,
Where they intently listen to the murmurs and whispers of the weakest of
the weak,
Where they carefully read the untold stories of misery of the poorest of the
poor with sympathy and compassion,
Where they, speak with the man in rags with respect and humility,
Where they, write to the citizens with soft and smoothing words,
Where their brains always command them to do the things which are right
and just,
Where their minds always lead them to perform their duties with utmost
honesty and integrity,
Where their deeds and actions always bring goodwill and glory to their
organization,
For that Utopian State,
My Father, let my colleagues perform their assignments!!!!

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An 'Out Of This World' Experience In Japan

- Anurag Sharma

Click on any image to see it in higher resolution.
Three Jizos in Hase-dera shrine
Japan is the 'Buddha' country
Konnichiwa! (╩Ш‿╩Ш)╯Hello from Japan, one of the most beautiful nations on earth. A beautiful country with beautiful people with beautiful heart. No wonder Sakura (cherry blossom) is Japan's national flower, although unofficially. The blossoming of Sakura is celebrated for centuries in Japan. Every year, the Japanese come out of their homes to welcome the blossoming of Sakura throughout the country. Though there are a few Sakura varieties in Japan, the Japanese cherry (Prunus serrulata) is generally regarded as Sakura. Most of Sakura bloom for just a couple of days in spring. Sakura, in a way, represents the Japanese way of life - whatever short your life is, bring beauty, colors and happiness to the world and make your short-lived existence memorable.
Green Tea KitKat
Just like Sakura, tea is an important symbol of Japanese life. It is everywhere. I never liked green tea until I had a cup in Japan. In fact I brought back Japanese green tea leaves so that I could start my day with green tea. Nestle produces many verities of KitKat only for Japanese market. Green Tea KitKat is one of the most popular chocolate flavor among those.


Green Tea Mochi
Seafood based food is common in Japanese culture since the fish and other creatures have been the key for survival in this tough terrain. Rice is another Japanese favorite. Japanese believe that the short grain and sticky 'Gohan' is the best rice variety in the world. Remember that rice, not fish, is the key ingredient of famous Japanese Sushi. Traditional Japanese sweet mochi is also made with rice. Of course sugar is added along with the flavor of choice. I liked the green tea mochi sprinkled with 24 karat gold particles as shown in the picture.

Indo Ryori at Kamakura Bhavan
When I visited Japan for the first time, people scared me that a vegetarian like me will not find anything to eat there. Even an incorrigible optimist like me had to carry granola bars with me to be on safer side. Contrary to general belief, it is not difficult to find vegetarian food in Japan. Language could be a barrier but almost everyone knows the term vegetarian, commonly pronounced as 'bejitarian'.

Guard protects the shrines
In fact there is a native vegetarian food category, called 'sh┼Нjin ry┼Нri' literally meaning 'devotional food' which is derived from the practice of non-violence. A friend told me that sh┼Нjin ry┼Нri, not only spares animals, it doesn't really kill any plants. This kind food is generally comprised of soy, tofu, nuts, seeds, fruits or leaves, used without killing a plant. Just like the concept of traditional Indian 'Satvik' food, 'sh┼Нjin ry┼Нri' restricts foods like garlic and alcohol too.

For me it was always easy to find an Indian restaurant, and order vegetarian food of my choice. The Japanese term for Indian food is 'Ind┼Н ry┼Нri'. Many of the Indian restaurants in Japan are owned by people from Nepal. But we found a good one in Kamakura which was run by a Japanese who lived in South India. It is a tradition in Japan to display three dimensional real looking plastic food outside the restaurant to give you an idea of how your order will look.

Achal Nath is among five wisdom kings
As a nation, Japan has a lot of distinctive attributes, but if I have to describe only one in a sentence, I would say, "If you want to understand the meaning of politeness, visit Japan at least once in your lifetime."

My 2017 trip was my third visit to Japan. Each time I visited Japan, I loved this country more than before. Though this time I was limited to Tokyo metropolitan area, I could explore a lot of areas, especially shrines on foot. 
A street in Asakusa
I was born and brought up in India. I have lived in various regions of India and traveled extensively throughout the country before coming to USA. Arriving in Japan from USA is almost like homecoming. Of course, I don't understand the Japanese language, but that's true about many languages of India too. There were occasions in India while travelling in a bus or train when everyone around me was speaking a language which I did not understand. Japan gives me a similar feeling as if I am in India, and I don't understand the language of that region. In fact it stimulates some memories of my childhood and teenage years when I spent some time in Manipur and Jammu & Kashmir states.


Enma-Dai-Oh is the Yamraj of Japan
Tokyo is a crowded yet orderly city. Roads are narrower compared to US roads, but extremely clean.  People seem happy. Unlike in the USA, they may not greet the strangers, but they will walk extra miles to help you if asked. Just like in India, there are temples and small shrines all over the country. As I was carefully observing the architecture, and the gods, I saw one fierce looking God, almost like Yama, the god of death in Indian tradition. I was curious to know about him and waited for someone who could introduce the god to me. I was lucky to find a native devotee in a few minutes.

Nat Kun, cute little Achal Nath
"This is Enma-Dai-Oh, the god of death, Japanese equivalent of Lord Yama" he explained. He also told me about many other gods from India who now reside in Japan. All of them have a Japanese name also besides the original Sanskrit name. Goddess Saraswati is known in Japan as Benzaiten. She is one of the Shichifukujin (the seven gods of fortune). 

 But the cutest of all the gods was baby Achal Nath (or 'Fudo Myo O' in Japanese). He is a dharmapala primarily revered in Vajrayana Buddhism. He is considered as the main among five Wisdom Kings.

Dharma dolls protect from evil eyes
In Japan, the technological advancement walks hand in hand with tradition. They have skillfully maintained the delicate balance between the two. You can see Dharma dolls on railway stations to save the bullet trains (locally called shinkansen) from evil eye. It's not uncommon for a scientist to stop at a shrine for blessings before launch of a major project. 
There are vending machines in almost every corner to serve canned hot coffee along with cold drinks. Tiny coke cans have a cap similar to a 2 liter bottle, so that you can carry the can with you. Once I took a cab in Tsukuba which did not have power windows, but the driver could still unlock and wide open the passenger door without moving from his seat just by pressing a button. Almost all toilets have multi-featured electronic bidet, some even with memory to play music or lighting of your choice. I was surprised to notice that an electronic mall at Akihabara started playing an advertisement in Hindi on my entry. 

 Of course there are sad reminders of Nagasaki and Hiroshima. There are cute Jizo Bosatsu statues (Sanskrit: Ksitigarbha Bodhisatva) in many shrines. Jizo is depicted as a cute little child with an intention to protect all beings, especially the children, from sufferings. I heard that the devotees can adopt a specific Jizo statue and take care of it.

For centuries, Jizo has helped grieving parents. Mizuko Kuyo is the ceremony when such parents worship Jiz┼Н Bodhisattva as the protector of the child during the journey beyond this world till rebirth. Centuries old practice of mizuko kuyo became more common after World War II, when there were many stillbirths. The jizo statues are dressed in red bibs and caps, sometimes the baby's own bib and cap, and displayed in the temple garden.
Subhas Chandra Bose at Renkoji Temple, Tokyo 
Second world war links Japan to India through Indian freedom fighter Subhas Chandra Bose, whose remains are kept in Renkoji temple of Tokyo which opens every year on 18th August, the death anniversary of Bose. Bose fled from British India to Japan via Germany. With help from Imperial Japan, he revived the 'Indian National Army' a.k.a 'Azad Hind Fauz' (literally 'Independent India' Army), a resistance guerrilla force consisting of Japanese and Indian soldiers to fight British regime in India. He led a few operations against British Indian army in North Eastern India and the Andaman & Nicobar Islands. In 1945, he died in a plane crash in Taiwan. He was brought back to Japan and is resting in Japan since.
Beautiful Tokyo Tower
Japanese love English, and western culture. Western dresses are common there. They celebrate Christmas and Halloween. Although, it's not easy to find people who can speak or understand English well, almost all important signs are written in English also along with Japanese. Though, the translation gets funny at times. There are three traditional scripts for Japanese - Hiragana, Katakana and Kanji. In addition to these three, the Roman scripts is used to write English words, and is called 'Romanji'. In temples and shrines, there are signs of Sanskrit written in Bonji, a variant of Siddham script. 
Tokyo is one of the busiest railway stations in the world. Multiple waves of pedestrian traffic cross each other continually. The sound of the footsteps never stops, but you hardly hear human voice. Japanese know the art of voiceless communication. To be honest, they respect your privacy even in a crowded place. A good example was the sign on a bullet train requesting the passengers to be gentle on the keyboard of their digital device to avoid inconvenience to fellow passengers. 
 

Tokyo Tower at night
It's a busy country. People commute long distances for work. But they are never too busy to help a stranger. Whenever I asked someone for direction, they always escorted me to the destination even if the person had to walk scores of yards for it. This happened almost every time, I asked for help. It is unbelievable that the busiest human beings are so kind to help others. 

 Another national character of Japan is honesty. Of course, Japanese appreciate kind words, but they find it insulting to accept any kind of tips. Forget about stealing from somebody's house, in general, Japanese will never keep anything found by them. In a previous journey, I noticed that when someone found a wristwatch on a sidewalk, and tied it to a nearby pole to make it easier to find if someone comes back looking for it.

 If you have not been to Japan yet, plan a visit. You may thank me later.
A shop in Tokyo
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First Anniversary Bumper - Anurag Sharma

Hurrah! Setu Anniversary Bumper has arrived.
Anurag Sharma

 Exactly a year ago, in June 2016, Setu started its journey as a bilingual journal of literature, art and culture. As the name Setu suggested, we are bridging gaps between languages, genres, cultures, continents, hemispheres, nations, and generations. Taking one issue at a time, we completed twelve and stand here joyfully with our first anniversary bumper issue.

 The month of June evokes mixed feelings. Juneteenth is a reminder of the June 19, 1865 proclamation declaring freedom for all slaves. Father's day is another celebration throughout America. There are some unpleasant memories too, like those of the Tiananmen square, and the 1975 emergency in India.

 June is bright and happy in northern hemisphere where I have lived throughout my life. Of course it is first month of winter in Australia where our friend and a distinguished member of the editorial board Rob Harle lives. BTW, Rob's digital artwork is being presented in this issue by Tonia Haynes.

 Since it's launch, Setu has received literary and academic contributions from all over the world. Some authors and research scholars from India wanted to know if Setu is in the approved list of the Universities Grants Commission (UGC). I would like to confirm that Setu is a UGC approved journal now. So please feel free to send your quality research articles for publication. Setu, as a policy, does not charge any fees for publishing the articles. 

 We are adding a comment form to every article from this issue. At Setu, we have always encouraged and appreciate your honest feedback as a tool for us to maintain and improve quality. 

 This bumper anniversary issue is the bulkiest of all as it covers 90 interesting articles in English and Hindi along with all regular features. Enjoy!

 Best wishes,
Anurag Sharma,
Pittsburgh (USA)
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Anniversary Issue, June 2017

Setu

Year 2, Issue 1

June 2017

Editorial

Short Fiction

My World and Words

Poetry

Translation

Focus: The Current French Poetry in translation

Critical Essay

Books

Interview

Travelogue / Photo Feature

Setu Special

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