THE VOYAGE OF IGNORAMITY AND THE CELESTIAL CONSPIRACY
Dr. Jernail S. Anand
“Man is on his Voyage of Ignoramity. Knowledge has failed to light his way to eternal happiness. Worldly wisdom writes the ethics of human folly. Man, in spite of his grand opening, ends up as an epic failure, in the absence of para-existential knowledge which is denied to him as a part of some celestial conspiracy.”. – Dr. Anand
Man is an ignoramus. And as times pass, the stock of his ignorance is getting multiplied. It is a strange paradox. The higher we move on the ladder of knowledge, the lower descends the quotient of human awakening. If you blind-fold a man, and then, let him around, this is our situation in spite of the fact that we are having eyes, and a keen vision. We can look into the skies, and discover new planets. But, there is something so dense, so cloudy, yet so close to us, into which no human eye can pierce. It is man’s destiny.
WORLD-WISE
With our wisdom, we try to make the best of our lives. And there are millions across the globe who follow a nearly uniform pattern. We get education, and then, try to get some good job. We go for a suitable marriage, and both the husband and wife start earning. Then there are kids, who are growing up, and studying in the best schools. We are enjoying wealth that we have accumulated by our smart wisdom. Parents used to go to shrines and we are continuing with that tradition. We observe festivals, and holy days. And are happy too. What is amiss?
WHAT IS AMISS?
When I asked him what you are giving back to society, pat came the reply, ‘I organize ‘bhandaras’[food to religious gatherings]. I have opened an NGO, to help destitute children.’ He makes me speechless. He is a successful man. He has no idea that gods think otherwise. If he faces problems, they are god given, he is sure. And if he is successful, it is because of his own smartness. He remains happy in his all-pervading ignorance.
THE VOYAGE OF IGNORAMITY
While moving through this ‘voyage of ignoramity,’ he is quite unaware that he has cultivated a lot of pride. ‘I’ do this. I ‘did’ this. Was this ‘I’ really doing things? The material happiness that came his way, was it all his doing? How much intelligence that he commanded was put into use when he got the wife he got? And, was his wisdom used in any way, when his wife conceived? The greatest issue before him is: Can he do what he wants to do? Even if there is none to check him, still there are certain invisible checks which stop him from doing his will. Further on, if he succeeded in doing his will, the results are not necessarily according to his wishes. They defy logic. Even things which seem within his reach, suddenly slip out and start challenging him. He marries the best girl around, with hundred percent certainty and calculations, yet, from where the fretting and frowning came in? He may be eating very sensibly, still he develops severe ailments. What are the things that finally affect a man and his actions, and therefore, his destiny?
A PARA-EXISTENTIAL QUESTION
The first important thing to understand is that the world in which we are born, is a system already in operation. It did not come into existence on the day we were born. This system was responsible to make the cosmic provisions for sustaining life. Man was never asked his willingness to enter this system. Secondly, He was not asked where he will be born, and to whom. Can anyone choose his parents? Or can parents choose their offspring? These are para-existential questions whose answers cannot be supplied even by the science. Astrology can approximate the facts, but science is absolutely helpless to tell, what type of a child a man is going to give birth to. Science cannot predict the graph of a man’s life, nor the ups and downs he might face. All these things are possible in astrology, which means all that we get, or all that we do, or all that we cannot do, is under the influence of stars. In other words, it is predestined. History is already written. We are not to write it, but only to discover it.
THE BIG-BROTHER SYNDROME: ARE WE BEING WATCHED?
Are we being watched by gods? Some friends from the world of atheism might stop reading further. I have a strong feeling that we are very keenly watched and granted boons or inflicted curses and punishments by gods, who are sitting on a dedicated TV screen, as we sit before the TV watching the up and down of share market. Each moment, not only our actions, but even our thoughts are adding up, and the balance sheet is reflected every second, as if it is a digital system. But some issues still fox human wisdom. How come we do something with best of intentions. Still, things fall apart. Who writes the script which we have to act out?
ATHEIST FRIENDS, NO USE READING FURTHER
We want a hundred things in our prayers, only a few are granted, decision for all others is reserved by gods. Let us think why a certain prayer was granted, and why others were not granted? If we can decipher the anatomy of our wishes, we will realize that only those things that are helpful to us, are granted, and those prayers in which we demand things which might harm us, are denied. And this operation is carried out silently.
Now, who decided what should be granted and what not? God is a kind father, and he ensures the good of his children, like you or me. We cannot let any harm come to our kids. But still, harm comes to them. In the same way, gods too are helpless. Some foul things might happen to their sons and daughters, because they are existentially necessitated. When you overdo something, some punishment is needed, after which, you can feel exonerated and equalized. In the same way, those who tell lies and get their work done by hook or crook, do not go scot free. Gods don’t let anyone escape the punishment he deserves for his acts of omission and commission. The only difference between human justice and ‘la justice divine’ is that in the court of god, no one is subjected to a punishment which he does not deserve.
We are being watched. And whatever we do, or even think, we are free at it, but everything is recorded and placed before the gods who arbitarize* over our joys and sorrows. Human courts can be bribed or they may fail to deliver justice, but la court divine is fail-proof. But, it also underlines the fact that we have very limited freedom. We possess the freedom how to arrange the things that have been made available to us. At the most, if we love truth, we can create beauty with our actions and thoughts. Only these actions of ours are liberating. Human destiny is man’s creation, and if he wants to change it, he can change it, provided he acts with caution, and brings grace and maturity to the conduct of his life. No hope if we choose to live with our mighty ignoramity which can be a celestial conspiracy too. [copyright with the author].
[*arbitarize: verb like arbitrate, not to be found in the dictionary]
Dr. Jernail Singh Anand, President of the International Academy of Ethics, is author of 161 books in English poetry, fiction, non-fiction, philosophy and spirituality. He was awarded Charter of Morava, the great Award by Serbian Writers Association, Belgrade and his name was engraved on the Poets’ Rock in Serbia. The Academy of Arts and philosophical Sciences of Bari [Italy] honoured him with the award of an Honourable Academic. Recently, he was awarded Doctor of Philosophy [Honoris Causa] by the University of Engg and Management, Jaipur. Recently, he organized an International Conference on Contemporary Ethics at Chandigarh. His most phenomenal book is Lustus: The Prince of Darkness [first epic of the Mahkaal Trilogy]. [Email: anandjs55@yahoo.com Mobile: 919876652401[Whatsapp]
Link Bibliography:
https://atunispoetry.com/2023/12/08/indian-author-dr-jernail-s-anand-honoured-at-the-60th-belgrade-international-meeting-of-writers/
on May 3, 2024, we left our home on McKnight Road in Maplewood, Minnesota and walked about 5 blocks to the bus stop on Nokomis Street and Stillwater Road… we caught the 74 bus to the 46th Street train station in Minneapolis to get the Blue Line train from there to the airport (MSP)… there we got the late flight that got into Fort Lauderdale at about midnight… the airport shuttle of our favorite Fort Lauderdale dive hotel was supposed to stop at 11 pm, but I thought I would call the hotel anyway and see if by chance the shuttle could pick us up… I have often said that the hardest part of travel is getting good information… the internet is a source of information but one problem with the internet is that for it to be useful to a traveler, the information has to be up to date… keeping information up to date requires someone to either enter the new data and erase the old or at least to inform the ai machine that such an action needs to be taken…
as in the case of our favorite pre-cruise dive hotel… so, it turned out that when I called the hotel, the front desk told me that the shuttle actually ran until midnight and they would be by to pick us up… which proved to be the case… this hotel has a great free shuttle both from the airport to the hotel and for the next day from the hotel to the cruise port, Port Everglades… this hotel is a bit seedy but the shuttle is great… we always try to arrive at least a day early for any ocean voyage because the ships do not delay their departure to wait for passengers and if there is anything we have learned from these years of travel, it is that air travel is always a bit of a crap shoot… flights are delayed and cancelled, weather can mess things up, the planes are very complex machines and any of a million things can get out of whack mechanically, flight crews can be delayed… etc. etc…
so, in this case, there was an easy flight the evening before the ship left, so we took it… since we did not get to the hotel until after midnight, it was too late to sign up for the shuttle to Port Everglades… so, the next morning, we grabbed an Uber and got to the ship around 11 am… the ship was a beautiful white cruise liner which held about 3140 passengers and another 1200 crew… in the winter this ship, like many others does cruises around the Caribbean from Florida… in the summer, the ship moves to Europe to do European cruises… this move is called a “repositioning” cruise… in our case, the crossing took 16 days with stops at the Azores, Cork Ireland, Falmouth England, Portland England and LeHavre France, before landing at the old British ocean liner port of Southhampton…
I am not a spokesperson for or apologist for the cruise industry and indeed, I do not know much about the industry… but if you want to see the deep ocean without joining the Navy and cannot afford a private yacht, this is about the only way I know of to do it…
so we boarded the ship and had a great meal at the buffet, which is always on one of the top decks, usually called, “the Lido Deck”… and stowed our belongings in our cabin… the cabins in these ships are small by shoreside standards, but we had a small balcony this time so a slightly larger cabin than usual, fairly high on the ship on deck 12… two decks below the Lido…
during the regular cruise season, these ships seldom go more than one day without stopping at a port… during a repositioning cruise, there are no ports to stop at between Florida and the Azores, so we had six at sea days in a row to start the cruise… I love the ocean… it is so big and so blue… and something stirs the old romantic in me to hear the captain announce that the closest land is North Africa, 1400 miles away… we were lucky these first six days and had gorgeous weather… the sea was calm and the immense sky was blue with a warm sun and a cool breeze… this ship had a deck closer to the water called the Promenade Deck, which is the deck just below the lifeboats which passengers use to walk… on some of these ships, you can walk all the way around the ship and on many, you can only go part way around… there is also a jogging track way at the top of the ship for those who are energetic… while at sea, as when I am on land, I try to walk 40 minutes every day… on the ship that was about 4 times around the Promenade deck… when not doing my walk, I like to sit in a deck chair on the Promenade deck… I usually have a novel with and my little drawing board, so I can sit and look out at the ocean while working on a drawing or reading my book betwixt and between… when it is calm like this, the ocean is like a vast blue bowl, with the waves growing smaller with perspective until the bright razor edge where the sea ends and the sky starts… we saw very few ships on this crossing… an occasional container ship piled impossibly high with containers stacked so you can barely see the superstructure of the ship… or an equally massive oil tanker riding low in the water like a black stripe on the blue… we did see one sail yacht about halfway across and I wondered who was on the yacht… and how long it had taken them to get to where we saw them…
and so, we made our way across the Atlantic Ocean to Punta Delgada, and Island that is part of Portugal, in the middle of the Atlantic… we have been here several times before and in the past have taken tours to most of the “points of interest” so, we decided to just walk around the lovely little city, have a look at the shop windows and get coffee and soda at a small sidewalk restaurant… the restaurant we chose was on a square with a lovely garden/park in the middle… there was a green lawn with benches and banks of brightly colored flowers, mostly red and yellow… the sidewalk is made of small squares of tile which are kind of uneven so, us old people have to be careful walking… we had thoroughly enjoyed the six days at sea, but it was also good to be on land again for a while…
a typical day at sea would start with me going up to the buffet and getting two cups of coffee for Mary… I would then make another trip up to the buffet to get myself a cup of decaf coffee and breakfast… Mary does not have a meal usually until lunch… normally, I do not drink coffee… at home, I usually start the day with a soda… on the ship, coffee is free while there is a charge for soda, so I opt for the coffee… because I am very sensitive to caffeine, I would get decaf… the coffee seemed very strong to me, so I would fill a coffee cup one fourth way with coffee, add hot water and milk to fill the cup the rest of the way… then I would gather breakfast… the rolls and croissants were fresh and delicious and so, I would usually get a roll or croissant with some butter and raspberry jam, a fried egg and two pieces of bacon, and that would make a great breakfast… I would bring that down to our stateroom and we would then go out on the balcony for breakfast… the ocean stretched in a circle from our perch 12 stories up and every day, there was a warm morning sun along with a cool breeze to make a very nice setting for breakfast… then, after breakfast, I would find a place on the promenade deck in a deck chair to sit and read or draw… this deck which is much closer to the water, featured a long row of wooden deck chairs and a constant stream of people walking by, getting their daily walk in… the lifeboats usually hang just above the promenade deck on these ships, so it is a shady spot when the sun gets warm… I liked to sit toward the front of the ship where the rolling crash of the ship through the North Atlantic swells was the background sound…
Mary would either join me in a deck chair to read or listen to an audio book or leave to attend one of the activities going on… they often have retired college professors on these cruises to give talks on various subjects of interest, for example, and Mary enjoys those “enrichment” lectures… then at about 3:00 PM, I would do my forty minute daily walk… then for an hour, Mary and I would find a sheltered space on the pool deck to play the board game she loves to play… then we would get ready and go to dinner at 5:00 PM… the dinners on this ship were really good and we would be at a table with from six to ten other people, for shared dining and conversation… our fellow passengers were mostly retired persons from all over the USA plus, a lot of Canadians… many of the retirees were from Florida, people who had lived in the colder areas of the USA, but had moved to get away from the cold winters… I found it continuingly amazing that we had such good conversations with so many people from so many varied backgrounds… it is great to be reminded that the things that bind us together as humans are far more numerous and important than our differences… as one would guess, there was lots of talk of grandchildren at these tables… of course, we all worked to avoid political discussions or indeed arguments and disagreements generally…
from Punta Delgada, we sailed three more days at sea to Cork, Ireland… these sea days were a bit different as the days were cooler than they had been and more importantly, according to the ships captain, an area of low pressure was before us… at sea, low pressure almost always means bad weather… in this case, the sea got much rougher and the days were cold and rainy… but for us, it did not matter as I have a medication that I take constantly to prevent seasickness and the ship is large with large public areas and lounges where we could still sit and read or draw while looking out the windows at the larger swells and waves, the grey skies and the squalls of rain and wind… the ship had steered around the worst of the bad weather so we were about half a day late getting into Cork… so instead of a whole day to explore the city, we just had a few hours… where the ship was docked was actually a half hour train ride from the city of Cork proper… the weather had cleared so it was sunny but cool when we got on the train to Cork… we did not have much time there, but we enjoyed seeing the lush green Irish countryside during the train ride… we walked around the town a bit again enjoying having dry land underfoot… we found a small sidewalk café where we stopped so Mary could get a coffee and I a soda… we enjoyed the sun and the amazing accents of the people chattering away around us… then we walked back to the station and made our way back to the ship…
our next port was Falmouth which is in Cornwall… we walked around the town on a beautiful sunny day… there was one long main street lined with shops, coffee places and restaurants… we visited the local library which was on a square just off the main street and a nearby bookstore where I bought a used book, a memoir of a WWI soldier who was in the battle of the Somme… we changed in some of our dollars for pounds at the local post office and as usual, found a lovely coffee shop were we could sit for a while and people watch…
from Falmouth, we went to the town of Portland… Portland is located on a small island and is a short bus ride from the much larger town of Weymouth… so we took the bus to Weymouth… the bus let us off in a quaint square a couple blocks from the river Wey… there we found a small holiday tram which consisted of a four or five cars pulled by a tractor like vehicle decorated to look like a train that you might find in a theme park… we took this train for a tour around the town and got off at the beach… the beach stretched a long way around a semicircle of the bay with a busy street fronting on the beach… there were some bars and restaurants set up on the beach side and along the other side of the street were restaurants, hotels and souvenir shops… it was warm and sunny so there were lots of people on the beach, many families with little children… we found a nice spot for a coffee and soda on a patio looking out over the beach and enjoyed the view of the parents and children… then we looked at the shops and spent some time looking at the fishing boats tied up at the bank of the river… eventually we made our way back to the ship…
the next day we were at Le Havre, France… Le Havre is on the Normandy coast… many of the passengers took tours from Le Havre to Paris or to the d-day beaches of Normandy, a few hours away… we have been to Le Havre before and it is a pleasant French town… we did not take the tour to Paris because that would involve a long train ride and not enough time in Paris to really do much… we did not go to the d-day memorials because that seemed like such a sad and frustrating experience… I really hate everything about war and the fact that many people killed each other at that spot was for me a cause of great sadness and not celebration… there is a modern church in Le Havre and in that church, we saw some pictures of the city absolutely flattened at the end of World War II and even after all these years the city still has, I think a psychic scar, observable in the ugly 1950s architecture, of being so terribly wounded… and still today, the people on this planet have not learned to live together in peace… it all seems very sad to me…
so, in Le Havre, we took a city bus to the top of a high hill and walked down through a park they call the hanging gardens… actually the only part of the hanging gardens we saw was the rose garden at the top, as we walked on a path that went down almost to the beach through a woods… the woods was lovely with birdsong and tangles of green underbrush and big trees, and an easy walk… when we got to the end of the park, we still had like six blocks of steep streets to get down to the beach… we then walked a mile or so along the beach, enjoying another warm sunny day… there are small restaurants in canvas tents all along the beach specializing in crepes and other luncheon food… we stopped frequently to enjoy the sun and watch the people walking along the promenade or enjoying themselves on the beach…
the next day, we got off the ship at Southampton and walked to the local bus station… I had booked tickets on a National Express bus for 12:30 pm so we got to the station about an hour early… the station was a madhouse with lots of people from the ship trying to get the direct bus to Heathrow… our bus to London’s Victoria Coach Station was about two thirds full… after a few pleasant hours on the bus, enjoying the English countryside, we got to London… the drive through London was interesting as we got to see neighborhoods well away from the famous center of London were the tourist stuff is…
from Victoria, we took the tube (subway) to Paddington Station which was close to our hotel… the room was very small with a tiny little shower that us big fat Americans barely fit into… but I chose it because from Paddington, we had terrific bus and subway service… there were lots of inexpensive restaurants across the street from Paddington, where I could get the full English breakfasts that I love… (the full English breakfast consists of two fried eggs, canned pork and beans, sauted mushrooms, a banger sausage and two pieces of English bacon along with toast and jam… Mary loves the coffee served in these restaurants, so was able to get a start on her day with an Americano Flat White…
our routine in London is to go to museums during the day and to a West End play every evening… the city is very easy to get around by tube and bus… that first day, we went to the National Gallery to see my favorite painting, an enigmatic piece by the mannerist painter Bronzino as well as many famous paintings by the great masters of European painting, with names like Velazquez, Vermeer, Caravagio, Raphael, Leonardo Da Vinci, and a host of others around every corner… l love feasting my eyes on all these amazing works… I don’t actually know if this art has any real value or message for the modern person, but there were crowds of people in the museum, if that is any indication… oddly, people seemed to want to take their own photos of the paintings, even though these paintings have been photographed perfectly by master photographers and detailed images are easily available on line… I first knew most of these paintings from books back when I was a teen and young adult and so to me a visit to this museum, which I have visited many times is a reunion with many old friends… I wish that I could visit the museum with a step ladder, so I could take a close up look at the brush work, etc. on some of these amazing works of art… but, I have to be content with seeing only the bottom few inches close up…
that evening we went to a play… the West End theaters are old and wonderful with creaky carpeted steps up to the balcony were our cheap seats would be located… the dancing, singing, acting, etc. is of the best and every way, I think, equivalent to Broadway, except at a much lower price… so we went to four different plays on the four days we were in London…
the next day, we went to a show of Michelangelo’s late drawings at the British Museum… it was a wonderful show for someone like me who has known all of these drawings intimately for many years and it is always a treat for me to see actual work from the hand of this artist who I love and admire so intensely and who has been such a big part of my life for so long… it was sad to see the very last drawings when that great artist was losing control of his hand and his line took on the shakiness of extreme old age… and to see him still struggling with the same image making that had obsessed him all of his long life was fascinating… to somebody like myself who has spent a lifetime attempting to draw the nude figure, it is wonderful to see how perfectly Michelangelo could do that and yet how he struggled even to the last days of his life to get that perfect image down that was so illusive and that perhaps revealed itself in a whole new dimension with his aging hand and eye…
that evening, we went to another play and the next day made a trip to the Guildhall gallery to see one of my favorite Rossetti paintings… and again to a play in the evening… the next day we went to the Tate Britian to see the Pre-Raphaelite paintings which were as lovely as always, although the Watts paintings did not seem to be on display which was a bit of a disappointment… the Tate Briton fancies itself an “modern” art museum, and I think they are not very invested in the wonderful collection of Pre-Raphaelite paintings that they have… so, the exhibition space devoted to them is small and some of them are hung high so as to be almost impossible to see in any detail… while they usually have vast galleries filled with some contemporary installation of humming idiocy, I think this time is was cardboard figures… well, the world has certainly passed me by artistically and in the world of computer, AI generated art, so called conceptual installations, videos and photography, old fashioned painted images are very much a thing of the past… but then, I am also a thing of the past, and there is a reason why all of my old fashioned figurative paintings are piled in my garage and not on the walls of some museum… oh well… I am just glad that these paintings and drawings that I love so much are still on display and still have an audience.
the next day, we walked from our hotel across Hyde Park… it was another lovely sunny day and Hyde Park is a huge grassy/woodsy park in the middle of the city… the only complaint about Hyde Park is a dearth of park benches, so, we walked across the entire park before we found a place to sit and watch the world go by… the path we took across Hyde Park ended at the Victoria and Albert Museum so, we took the opportunity to visit another of my favorite Rossetti paintings, with a glance at some of their nice collection of William Blake paintings… then one more play and our trip was over…
the next day, we took the tube to Heathrow and got on a big airbus to Boston… we did not get on our flight to MSP, so we spent a night in Boston and the next day, May 25, 2024, made it home… a few days after we got home, Mary started having chest pains again and needed another cardiac procedure… so we are back to doctors and doctors appointments… we were glad and lucky to get our big trip in before the health problems cropped up and hopefully, we have been fixed up now so we can look forward at least to the summer without any more health scares….
three poems related to this story….
Flight from Heathrow to Logan
By: Norman J. Olson
the huge white Airbus
lifted off the runway at Heathrow…
from the air England looked cool and
green until we slipped
into the heavy clouds… soon we were
reborn from the clouds into a
new world of painfully blue skies and
bright sunshine… above a white
floor of clouds…
the big Rolls Royce engines droned
on powering us across the Atlantic
five miles up at 500 miles per hour…
the miracle of human flight has been
achieved not by mystics and dreamers,
but by aeronautical engineers and pilots…
Isambard Kingdom Brunel would be proud, I think…
I looked out the window for a while, but
the clouds were too bright, so I closed the
shade and watched an old Star Wars movie
and fell asleep until the big plane
touched down, with a thump and a roar
of reverse thrust, coming in to Boston over
the rippling sea….
Sailing into Cobh Harbor
By: Norman J. Olson
picture a lighthouse… I know lighthouses
are of no use to modern sea captains who
have computerized gps and radar systems
to tell them where they are… but
just humor me and
picture a smallish white lighthouse
on a spit of land… next to the lighthouse is
the lighthouse keeper’s dwelling, a small
white washed house with a few outbuildings
silhouetted in sunlight against the
burning blue of the sea…
picture green squares of fields up the hillside landward
from the lighthouse and a few
small boats…
picture me, elderly working class American
with artistic pretentions,
leaning on the railing of the huge white cruise
liner… as the ship slowly slips past the lighthouse,
its Azipods barely rippling the sea, followed by a heavy duty
red and yellow tug boat…
picture an achingly blue sky above the well rained,
green hills of Ireland, and you will see what
I saw as we sailed into Cobh, bound for a
brief stroll around the city of Cork…
Poetic Musings on the Deck of a Cruise Ship
By: Norman J. Olson
the huge ship churns the North Atlantic swells
into curling waves of foam and
turquoise… beyond the foaming bow wave,
the ocean is as vast and untroubled as
the void of the universe, except painted blue…
we walk around the deck, obsessed with our
minutia… talking about lunch or politics…
looking for flying fish… hoping against hope to
see a whale or a dolphin… I pause to lean on the railing…
I think of Hart Crane, whose poetry is as obscure
as the stars in the sky… he said, “goodbye” and jumped
over a railing much like the one I am leaning
on… he was a friend of Allen Tate, who was a teacher
at the university of Minnesota when I was there… I knew
he was there, and Berryman too… real poets, while
I was stomping around the campus with thick glasses and a
worn overcoat… failing half my classes, trying to write
immortal sonnets and paint renaissance masterpieces…
I was jealous that they were
poets while I could only be described as a sad
and unpromising failure… I remember when Berryman
jumped over a railing on the Washington Avenue
bridge… apparently being a college professor and
a real poet was not enough for him… I was just starting a
20 year career as a factory worker… I thought of approaching
one of them, “see! here! my sonnets! I am a poet too”
but I never got up the courage…
my failure as a poet is now 60 years old…
it is a long story how I wound up here, in the mid Atlantic,
gazing at the ocean from the deck of a huge opulent
cruise liner… still writing crappy poetry… still, in spite
of my success in this world, a “hollow man…”
they say these ships are always followed by
sharks on the lookout for fish the propellers turn
One day a boy named Sofiq went to his School. In tiffin time he quarreled with his friends. So, he was distressed. After breaking the school he lonely went to the rail station. Then, he started working beside the train line. Suddenly he noticed that the train line was broken in a place. And that time he the whistled of a train. He could not know what he did. Then, he hit upon a plan. He had worn a red color tea shirt. He put out his tea shirt and then tired it with a stick and trebled it. The driver of the train noticed that and stopped the train. Finally he saved the lives of many people with his witness.
Md. Amir Hamza is a student of grade seven in Harimohan Government High School, Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh.
***
gold fish
and the sun is gone
***
father is looking for fish
among the scales
***
here is a flower sleeping
and no one knows
what a morning hurricane is
***
the taste of coffee fades to the tip of the tongue
the thick of time is braided into the morning shabby hair
***
night sensors go off scale
the bride covered in blood is happy and smiling
bed full of tender flesh
the moon is full of light
the stars are naked and bashful
was published in Pulsar Poetry Webzine
***
black flower
braided into
white braids
was published in Password
***
children's town
no one to fix the toy
was published in Password
***
birds
without beaks
ask for a drink
was published in Password
***
my imaginary finger
shoots into the temple
was published in Password
***
death vector
math lesson finished
was published in Password
***
i want to die be a hyacinth
was published in Password
***
We slept with you in the crack of a cut hand
Not a single air bothered us with its presence
All clouds and trees were covered with a veil of nakedness
The weapon itself also hid in the anal slits, apparently there it belongs
Finally you raised your finger up and I realized that I was dreaming
I wake up in the silence of the graveyard hidden under the bed
I wake up I sleep I fall asleep I invent your finger
Thrice tied to the lord I come up with a finger
I teach my brain to live again
was published in Pulsar Poetry Webzine
***
I love the stone for the fact that he is steadfastly silent
I don't like people because they die
little birds kiss the glass of the universe
the world is a torn book in the hands of a child
was published in Perceptions Magazine
***
the sky eats birds on the horizon
the bird shrinks to the size of a dot
the sun shines like a question mark
what will happen next?
was published in Perceptions Magazine
***
the snow is back
the bird is looking for a home among the old newspapers
was published in Perceptions Magazine
***
spring thunder
in the belly of nature
nature is our mother
was published in Perceptions Magazine
***
Unborn Jesus cries because
he will not be crucified
was published in Perceptions Magazine
***
orange joy in the snow
small trees are shivering in the cold
small children die in a warm bed
was published in Perceptions Magazine
Beyond the time
Summer hasn't quite arrived yet
Monsoon has come along
hidden path
clouds are coming down the cleavage
aroma of love...
God curses the eyes
lust covered in smoothie blood
However, the lips continued to climb
the stairs of wet faith...
Self-decay is never immortal
When carnival of tears end
at the burnt seedbed
Western birds peck their beaks
In the womb of the world...
Strangulating the earth wants
to touch the sky
fosters hideous hunger for love
in the sinkhole of time
as the flowers of first-kiss dry up,
shame flinders to pieces
In the clean crownest...
Warm bread
Once upon a time, there was a woman named Nora. He had 2 children, one of them was Anwar and the other was Sanobar. The respect of the son and daughter for their mother was boundless.
One day Aunt Nora fell ill. The son was the breadwinner of the family. The daughter looked after her mother all day and sewed a dress. His mother wanted to eat something, but he could not describe what it was. One day distant relatives came to see him. He brought hot bread along with hot soup. Aunt Nora seemed to feel a surge of power as soon as the visitor entered the door. Then he found out that there was hot bread in the knot brought by the guest. He ate a piece of bread and his mood rose. He took care of the guest himself and even recovered.
The next day, in the evening, he was sitting at the table with his children. Then his son said to him:
- Mother asked how you got better by eating plain warm bread. And Aunt Nora:
- My son has a long history of this. I was young. One day my heel ran away. Even then something was eating me, but I never knew what it was. In those days, finding flour was a problem. But my father found flour for me and told my mother to bake bread for me. My mother wrapped hot bread for me. It was when you tried to eat the bread. It was not like other breads at all. I found out the reason later. He could taste the love of my parents. I scolded them in such a way that they were surprised. Since then I have not been sick at all. This happened again. Hot bread could fix me in this too. So, my parents knew about my illness. Therefore, God himself sent me our relative.
You see, my children, there is so much wisdom in simple warm bread - he said and hugged his children.
Her children listened to their mother's story. They also look at their mother:
"You know, mother, when we are sick, we can eat your hot bread and get well," they made her mother happy even more. Since then, Aunt Nora has never been sick.
Dear reader, through this fairy tale, I explained to you the power of the simple bread baked by your mother. So never waste bread. After all, children in some countries are forced to live for a simple bread. Draw conclusions for yourself in the fairy tale!
Murodova Muslima Kadyrovna was born on June 29, 2010 in Jondar district of Bukhara region. Currently, she is a 7th grade student of school No. 30 in this district. Her first poem was published in 2024 under the name "Come beautiful spring". Winner of many achievements, she won the 2nd place at the festival held in the district. She won the 1st place in the district stage and the 2nd place in the regional stage of the "Bakhtim Shul: Zulfiyasiman Uzbek" contest. Her first anthology was published by the UK publisher Justfiction Edition.
Six Untitled Monostichs
door north immediate corn
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a perfect jangle a mirrored stew
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moose availability bee & me
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crimson criss wicket frosty chafe
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iron lake tangible irony trigger
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tranquil orbital delphic jonquil
—
bio/graf
J. D. Nelson is the author of eleven print chapbooks and e-books of poetry, including *purgatorio* (wlovolw, 2024). His first full-length collection is *in ghostly onehead* (Post-Asemic Press, 2022). Visit his website, MadVerse.com, for more information and links to his published work. Nelson lives in Boulder, Colorado, USA.
