Think like a blabber

(Selected pieces)

(2019-2023)

Self-Portrait

2020

I contemplate a lot. I ponder over my mind, my prejudices and my existence. It makes me express myself through words and colours. 

Fragment 1

There is a light, I believe

At the end of the tunnel

Shimmering, blinking

To show the hapless souls

The meaning of life.

There is a light, I hope

At the far end of a tunnel,

Hope to see

Not its death

Its constant struggle

Against the rough winds

And the hammering silhouettes.

Burning flames, burning flames

Flicker but not yield.

Burning flames, burning flames

Pose like a crumbled soul;

Remaining ashes

Pose like a crooked nail;

Moisture, dewdrops, lavender,

Skin of oaks, landmine, sound of those

Savage disasters, elusive memory,

Knightly armour, tattered jackets, wet soils

Uncharted vision- all I want

From the daybreak to the last ray of hope.

Till then, burning flames,

Seek, strive,

As there is a light at the end

Of doubt and denial:

Conquerable and 

 Solemn.

6 the September

2021

Trash box

We throw garbage in a garbage box. Unknowingly, we throw a fragment of ourselves in the box; we throw our skins and unknowingly we look down upon at the wastages. So, what is it doing in the box? How long?

16 December

2021

Fragment 2

Contemplating over things: Mind’s progress

I. Similarities

It feels like air

When someone sleeps,

Seems like a box of stones has been dragged out

Pacified 

Hollow like balloon.

It feels like river

When the sweat trickles down from forehead

And touches someone’s knees,

It is cold like water

When the fan runs in full swing.

It feels like a jolt

When the bus driver hits a break,

Seems like one discovers oneself 

And starts searching for the past skins 

Of the past times

In the road 

Once travelled

Of his livelihood. 

07.11.2022

II. The Pain

My mind needs a sheet

To cover itself up

For camouflage

For hiding from the wind

As it carries the unwanted thoughts

Of different times,

Thought about bodies,

Uncertainties,

Failures;

My mind does not halt for a moment

I like a sleepwalker try to cut the entrance door

To have a look

Of the sunny mornings

Of its other side;

Gloomy, it sounds

Mild, it appears

It bombards,

It bombards the wall 

Between my tempo and mood

I don’t want to have the darkness 

Around my body

When my mind

Can leave its skin

Within a wink of an eye.

The cobwebs inside my mind

Like fear

Increase

If they are not untangled 

With the feelings

Of ease

And 

Of melodies.

From the melodies,

One can find a tune

The tune

That binds 

The hearts of those

Who cycle through the veins of life

Cycle through the spark of failures.

08.06.2023

III. Agony

I am born in the month of agony

As peace has not dared to appear;

From sunbeams to sunlight,

Shapes and intensity

Change,

The toddler learns to run with words;

Here, I, the agonized, disorganized soul

Do not know how to crawl.

All the butterflies spread their wings

Around the tip of a bud

Encouraging it to grow,

Hope, 

The world acts like this

And makes a constellation

Of lost souls.

March, 2023

IV.

She cries and cries

As if she is destined

To bear the weight

Of the cracking sky,

She never imagines

That her teardrops 

Can paint the white rose

Into blue

That she drew

In her notebook.

7^th April

Fragment 3

The Blabber

Side face of a blabber

2019

The Blabber 

Part 1

If something wonderful happens in my life, what will I do? 

The best thing may arise in me. 

My instinct or my strong belief in miracle can bring miracle to me. 

People say that life is a box of miracles. 

Life happens when nothing is happening.

Who will open the lid of the box of my life? 

Waiting is the foe of creative energies,

I believe. 

Restlessness creates the symphony

That takes refuge in me. 

Blabber is one who speaks a lot but can do nothing. 

I am that blabber.

Blabber is one who lives in the bubble. 

Bubble of misconception, bubble of doubt. 

I am that blabber. 

I am such a blabber that I fail at everything. 

I want to be a doer. 

From being a dear to a deer, one goes through a journey.  

Part 2

I write to free myself from the clutches of thoughts.

My body acts like a vessel and I am the sailor of the sea. 

My vehicle is not so big like my body. 

Its frailness makes me ponder over my rowing skills. 

The canoe like body faces hurdles to go forward. 

I want to be free like water. 

As free as the birds. 

The boxes around my existence enable me to think

That I have to take a shape 

Of a cube, round, square 

Or of any geometric figures. 

Water is shapeless 

So does the wind. 

Sky is shapeless so does the earth. 

The oxymoronic sensation is my breath 

That acts like a fuel to the machines of my body. 

Oil makes the machine run properly. 

Every evening, the horizon paints the scenic beauty

That does not demand any mechanical or technological recording. 

My eyes see the eyes of the firmament. 

At night, it is the evil but the day comes with the prediction.

A hope,

A dawn.

14.04.2023

The moods of Future

The future is a giant ball. A mystery starts with the anonymous suspects and ends with the prominent names. The more you try to look at the future, the more it will get away from you. It is like sand slipping away from your fingers. It only makes you realize what you can hold on and that is present. Today, the first day of the Bengali calendar says what can happen in the near future. Possibility and probability are not same with certainty. Certainty gives you the feeling of ending. As long as a soul can float, he is happy. 

Happiness gives you wings. It makes you venture into the lands that you have never thought of. The blankness in the eyes of a kid does not hypnotize an adult. But, the same blankness garnished with wonder can make anyone feel lost if anyone peeps into it.

Eyes are like ocean, I always say. 

From yellowish blue to bluish brown, the colour paints the layers of the sky. They symbolize the different moods. The cinematographer plays with the colours, technicality of the cameras, and the camera decides which mood (circular or horizontal) it should concentrate on. The process of contemplation evokes out the psychology of the scene, the inner spectrum of the human beings. 

The wise man can quickly advise on the significance of the minutes. Seconds are better than minutes. The tourists wait in the Tiger Hill to witness the rising of the sun, the advent of a new dawn. They wait with their cameras but within a blink, they can miss the metaphorical birth of the sun. This is the power of the seconds. The future is exactly like this one. It follows the laws of nature. And miraculously, the nature is the creative offspring of God. This nature stores the gems under its soil. It lets her rivers flow. It is also like mood. Very uncertain yet so adventurous just like life.  

Youth is life; life is youth. How long can youth stay? Youth is the bohemian river, a wild horse. After youth, comes the mid age. The age of grey hair. White means wisdom. Wisdom means a step closer to death. And everyone will meet the future. The future comes with a hazy mood.

Youth

2019

Life is synomous with youth. Youth can be existent, omnipresent if one only thinks of present. Destiny is like a flame. Moths are like the pedestrians. Flame attracts the moths. Some die; some make a life of illusions.

15.04.2023

Prayer and Prayer

Folding the hands and looking upwards are the ways to alert the God. You become silent; you become calm. You have words but you throw words at the wall. There is no receiver except God. The tantrums of the world, the gullibility of the human existence, the love for the breathing- all sterilize our thinking capacity. 

The act of thinking makes the hair grey. 

Hair falls down onto the ground. 

The empty baldness starts appearing. 

Still, you pursue conversation with God. 

Your sweaty body starts getting melted due to agony and excitement. 

Uncertainty aligns with belief and belief is a force. 

A force

Indomitable.

15^th April, 23

Fragment 4

Face of Durga

2021

The (000) of my life

I don’t know the meaning of (000). But, I am sure what may be the possibilities of (000) in my life. People say that life is existence. I believe that life is doing. Journey means going from one place to another, moving from one space to another. Moving signifies that you are doing. You are doing for the mind; you are doing for the body; you are doing the deeds. Does (000) refer to a circle? Is it a line? Does a straight line hit itself back-to-back until it gets transformed into a round shape? Line has an end. Circle has no exit. Line has an exit. Circle has no end. I am Srijani. I am happily stuck to the ground of (000). I am running, growing like the leaves of a plant. A seed in a soil. 

The beauty of livelihood is such that it makes one pause for a moment. One thinks and thinks until his eyes feel the burden of sleep. 

Mahalaya, 2023

Fragment 5

I see you-

The people,

I see myself there, 

Just there.

From here,

To here

Navigating, slowly, silently like a 

Super sleuth or a cautious frog

I am going

I am traversing.

I am visualizing images

Like a heap of moments

So transitory

So illuminating

Ephemeral like wind

Like a second.

It evaporates,

It evokes out the smell of

Loveliness

Loveliness of the face

That is standing in the dark,

The eyes as dark as caves

Dark as the veiled sky,

I am standing in the mid centre of stage

Called life.

How ironical it appears!

I am cycling through the words 

Some want to become the dusk

And I want to become a dawn.

Tears blow like wind

Only to make a bridge

Between you and me

Me- the mind

And you- 

The people, the receiver

And the audience. 

17.11.2023

Fragment 6

Two years have passed.

I forget to read the notes. 

There is a coin in the notes.

The coin that I place on my palm 

Only to listen to its subtle sound 

Is a boon to anyone’s miserable days. 

This sound is so silent 

That the deaf intends to receive its noiseless words. 

Sometimes, it is my soul 

That reciprocates to the sound of my brain. 

Who gives me signals? 

Me to my selves?  

Or something else?

18^th November

2023

Fragment 7

I can smell the smell of the dead men

But, I forget to smell the odour of the flowers

Of my garden.

I see the vision of the forebears in the 

Eyes of the girls,

I can smell the smell of their bodies

I smell the smell that is yet to come

But, I forget to smell

That is already there.

Is it just my fear?

Is it something else?

I think and overthink

To let my thoughts flow

Through my veins

And I walk

I go.

25^th November

2023

Full Tourist

I’ve been a tourist all my life –

Always passing through

Touring from here to there

Always trying to recall where

I am today and on to tomorrow.

I’ve been looking for a guide

To direct me in a language I know

(English spoken slowly, a little

Frence and of course

My high school Latin) spoken

Clearly and loud enough.

I’m a  tourist taking selfies and

Buying post cards and souvenirs

To remind me where I’ve been

And all the things I’ve probably seen.

I’ve learned to live in and out

Of a suitcase, rummaging about

Through underwear and socks

Enough of both I’m always hoping

But never sure – just ask me.

I’m always a tourist planning my next

Excursion, out and back, next and

After that, every day, all day, smiling at

And wondering about all these locals

Natives of the place.

       Packing Up

I picture you packing

A backpack, a carry-on

And you didn’t mention

Anything else, so my

Picturing will be limited.

A few weeks in Europe

Touring, sightseeing, and

dressed to the nines, as

I expect you will be, will

Need careful selecting

Folding and matching

One thing with another.

Walking through the Roman

Forum, sipping the right

Wine in a Parisian café

Standing in line for just

About anything this time

Of year, hottest it’s been

In Europe in recorded time.

Your backpack and carry-on

Left in that bed and breakfast

Your kids picked and there

You are – I can picture it –

Dressed for whatever comes

Your way.

           Time Travel

We time travel, but not like Wells

In a machine going back or

Ahead, blurring centuries as

We find out what went on or

What will happen. No, the kind

We do, requires that we just

Sit back, stand back and let

It happen. It’s inevitable, so it

Needs no outside assistance.

We’re travel through time, going

Forward on the clock and on

The calendar, sometimes plunging

Ahead, sometimes tick-tocking

Onward, but always moving on

Shedding yesterday, disposing of

Last week, last year, and what it

All meant. We do carry ourselves

So things accumulate on us, in us

Follow us, become part of us. We

Never get to go back to relive and

Or improve on what happened in

Our past. We travel forward, but we

Don’t know when it all will end, don’t

Know when our clock unwinds or

When that last alarm goes off and

We can’t get up and start again.

got my chakra

got my chair

eyes are going

can’t tell one from the other

keep trying to sit and

falling out of

enlightenment

What Became of Me

Your smallest word is enough—
just that little whisper,
yet it comes like a Boishakhi storm
braided with torrents of rain.

It flows in an unbroken current,
through ages beyond memory,
stirring silent uproars
deep within my chest.

Laughter and tears descend together,
like rain bending every vine,
every shrub, every tree.
Nature itself becomes
a heavenly message of grace,

finding its way
into the lightless, blind corridor.
Who is left to notice?

Across the grey horizon,
along an endless untamed trail,
someone suddenly asks,

“How have you been?”

That single sentence
casts its spell over everything.
Like the fragrance of dawn
breaking an ancient silence,

something within me—
something beyond words—
quietly becomes
something else.

Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh

08  July, 2026.

Md. Mahbubul Alam is from Bangladesh. His writer name is Mahbub John in Bangladesh. He is a Senior Teacher (English) of Harimohan Government High School, Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh. Chapainawabganj is a district town of Bangladesh. He is an MA in English Literature from Rajshahi College under National University. He has published three books of poems in Bangla. He writes mainly poems but other branches of literature such as prose, article, essay etc. also have been published in national and local newspapers, magazines, little magazines. He has achieved three times the Best Teacher Certificate and Crest in National Education Week in the District Wise Competition in Chapainawabganj District. He has gained many literary awards from home and abroad. His English writings have been published in Synchronized Chaos for seven years.

Once when he was in grade ten in 1990, his Bangla letter was selected as the best one from Deutsche Welle, Germany Radio that broadcast Bangla news for the Banglalee people. And he was given 50 Dutch Mark as his award. They would ask letters from the listeners to the news in Bangla and select one letter for the best one in every month.     

From 17 to 30 September, in 2018 he received a higher training in teaching English language in Kasetsart University of Thailand for secondary level students through a government order from education ministry. 

On 06 November 2015 he achieved Amjad Ali Mondal Medal for his contribution in education field by a development organization in the conference and felicitation function for the honorable personalities at Rajshahi College Auditorium. 

On 30 December 2017 from West Bengal in India he was declared a ‘Literary Charioteer’ in Bangobandhu Literary and World Bango Conference and they awarded him with a Gold Medal in their International Literary Conference and Prize Giving Ceremony.

In 2018, he achieved Prodipto Lirerary Award in Prodipto Literary Conference at Kesorhat, Rajshahi for poems in Bangla literature. He received honorary crest from the administration of Chapainawabganj District Literary Conference and Cultural Function in 2021 and 2022 consecutively. 

His poems have been published in many international online magazines such as Juntos Por las L Raven Cage Zine, and Area Felix.  His poems have been translated and published in Argentine and Serbian, and he participated in many international online cultural meetings. 

Philosophical Reflection on Love

Gaurav Ojha

After having read various philosophical works, I have come to realize that the scope of philosophy is not just limited to all that difficult stuff great philosophers write. Philosophy is not just an academic pursuit; it serves as a daily analytical tool that prompts us to question, reflect, and uncover the larger context behind the various aspects of our lives. Hence, anything from an intense political debate to a personal dialogue with your lover on the turgid matters of falling and being in love can be quite philosophical.

For an analogy, just hold yourself and think for a while when your lover asks you the next time, “Do you really love me?” Instead of answering the question bluntly, you need to analyze and reflect on his or her concern for a while and then ask yourself, what does love really mean? Why do we fall in love? Is love about giving things, holding hands, or something deeper? Why is she asking this question? Is she insecure? Is she in love with me for what I have or who I am? Now ponder over these thoughts for a while and what you are doing is the philosophy of love. After reflecting on these questions, you may feel that even a familiar thing like being in love carries so many concerns, questions, and enigmas.

Perhaps too much has already been said about love, from poems, essays and bulky philosophical treatises to the complex plots of novels reflecting on its complex, contradictory and inexplicable nature. And, among many such reflections on love, I find French philosopher Jacques Derrida’s thoughts on the paradoxical nature of love rather philosophically intriguing. When asked to say something about love, rather than answering the question, Derrida simply obscures the question itself and makes the idea of love look rather odd by exposing the paradox between what we love and who we love.

Derrida argues that before we say anything about love, first we need to reflect on our ways of loving, whether we love each other for who she is (her being) or for what he has (his possessions). Are we in love with the right person (who), or does that person have all the right possessions we need and want to be in love with? Here “being” reflects who a person is as an individual, how her life speaks, and a sense of joy, laughter, support, transparency of thoughts, and inner connections you experience in her presence, whereas “having” indicates what a person owns in terms of accumulations, possessions, opportunities, purchasing power, social security, and control.

In our idealist imaginations we want to presume that we always love the person before his/her possessions; however, in reality we are also evenly aware that probably we are in love with the person for his/her physical attributes, social status, skills, knowledge, influence, and other material possessions. The joy of philosophizing about love lies not in finding answers, but in exercising our minds, posing questions, and analyzing the familiar experience of falling in love from various unexpected angles, all with the aim of expanding our understanding of that passionate and whimsical phenomenon we refer to as love.

(Ojha is a faculty member specializing in communication, critical thinking and research at various educational institutions in the Kathmandu Valley)

This month’s issue journeys through Landscapes of the Soul, mapping our inner geographies.

The human soul is a landscape shaped by countless forces: the wounds we inherit, the loves we experience, the places we remember, the losses we endure, and the dreams that carry us forward. Like a physical landscape, the inner world contains mountains and valleys, storms and seasons, deserts of loneliness and gardens of renewal. The works in this collection explore these inner terrains, revealing the many ways people search for meaning, connection, healing, and transcendence.

First, some announcements. Contributor Peter Dellolio has a new poetry collection coming out from New Meridian Arts, Catch Of The Day.

CATCH OF THE DAY is a collection of surreal poems based on the concept of irrational collage or juxtaposition so often found in Surrealism, where totally unrelated and disconnected elements are combined. Each poem is a stanza of lines that are self-contained and bear no logical connection to one another. My hope is that this brings out some of the magical, incantatory powers of language.

If you’d like to order a copy, New Meridian Press invites you to contact them at newmeridianarts1@gmail.com for a discount.

Also, our regular contributor Rui Carvalho invites readers and contributors to submit poetry to the next annual Nature Writing Contest.

Our contest, Nature 2025-2026, is a new opportunity that we, as organizers, create to reach the rest of the world. Every Contest is a challenge for authors participating and to people that make it happen. This year we invite all authors to write poetry about:
(i) Flowers;
(ii) Trees and wind;
(iii) Water;
(iv) Nature Conservation;
(v) Turtles;
(vi) Love for people and nature;
(vii) Hope and Happiness.

Rules and submission information here.

Now for our second July issue, Landscapes of the Soul.

Every soul carries traces of the past, and several contributors look at the wounds we carry from the histories that have shaped us. Srijani Dutta’s poetry reminds us that struggle is an inescapable part of the human existence. Abigail George speaks to the inherited language of addiction, a shared, familial dialect of suffering. Adamu Muhammad Ja’agi suggests that forgiveness can be a powerful act of liberation, allowing a person who has been hurt to reclaim their identity beyond inherited pain. In Aleksandra Soltysiak’s poetry, translated by Olga Smolnytska, memory becomes a haunted and unreliable mirror where love, loss, and truth shimmer between revelation and illusion.

In Naim Al-Musafir’s Voices from There, translated from Arabic into English by Faleeha Hassan, landscapes themselves become keepers of memory. Through magic realism and social history, the story reveals how places preserve the stories of those who have suffered, departed, and returned. Cyril Erchev’s piece reflects the experience of diaspora: a woman out of place in her present world but spiritually still walking the fjords of her ancestors. Sayani Mukherjee explores the emotional geography of homeland, where beauty and trauma exist side by side. Mahesh Paudyal enters the darker regions of memory, examining how disturbing experiences linger within the human mind. Abigail George’s long meditative poem asks how a person survives when love, home, peace, and certainty disappear.

Within the landscapes of the soul, the gardens of love provide shelter and transformation. Türkan Ergör points out that love is an active choice, not just a state of being or a feeling. Chidimma Ewelukwa shows how daily acts of motherly care become expressions of profound emotional connection. David Kokoette similarly honors motherhood as a vocation, emphasizing the devotion, responsibility, and meaning found in nurturing another life. Berdinazarova Jasmina Mirshod qizi celebrates the continued love and care of her father. Bill Tope explores the uncertain landscape of adolescence, capturing the vulnerability of discovering oneself through relationships. The poetry of Barbaros İrdelmen travels through different seasons of human experience, reflecting on mortality, romantic love, and the dynamics of long-term relationships. Hassan Musa Dakasku reflects on the possibilities and responsibilities of friendship.

Eva Lianou Petropoulou celebrates love as essential to both self-understanding and connection with others, while Dr. Prasanna Kumar Dalai expands love into a force capable of reshaping identity, time, and existence itself. Graciela Noemi Villaverde reframes “saving” not as a onetime heroic act, but as a quiet, steady, loving presence that transforms what was dead or broken into something that can still grow. Reema Hamza’s poem highlights how love can transform longing, exile, and devastation into a sacred, defiant act of remaking the world. Kang Young-eun discovers holiness in everyday experiences, transforming bread, wine, evening light, loneliness, and memory into symbols of human connection and spiritual awareness.

The soul is also a place of questioning, conflict, and spiritual discovery. Duane Vorhees explores the self as an internal battlefield where instinct, conscience, and reason compete for control. Elmaya Jabbarova reminds us of the need to choose love and moral behavior and the ultimate folly of cruelty. Mesfakus Salahin presents existence as a pilgrimage guided by love, personal choice, and the search for ultimate truth. Wan Yilong presents a spiritual journey through combined metaphors from ancient Buddhist Pure Land teachings and modern cosmic space opera. Jack Phillips Lowe’s short story presents an everyday vignette in the life of a person who takes medicine for a mental health condition. Mark Young’s poetry explores how we assemble ourselves from the bricolage of our surroundings. Joe Couture’s pieces highlight selfhood built through physical work and wear and tear on the body over time. Sumana Bhattacharjee’s poetry points out how we can find meaning in life’s struggles when we follow our own consciences and trust our inner strength.

The internal battlefield metaphor applies to nations and political entities as much as to individuals, as they also struggle with identity and conscience. Jacques Fleury presents America as a nation continually struggling between its highest ideals and its darkest realities. Aminu Femi Jamiu mourns and marks the loss of young Esther Harrison, a schoolgirl murdered in Nigeria. Yeon Myung-ji’s poetry, narrated by the ancient Chinese emperor Qin Shi Huang (creator of the terracotta army found in his grave) highlights how even a person who held absolute power was humbled by death and the limits of his human knowledge. Alan Catlin’s poetic series depicts the waking nightmares of a civilization in decline, where the only honest witness knows they’re floating away from shore and still can’t stop watching. Bilal Al-Masri interviews author Dr. Jernail Singh about a variety of topics, including the moral and social responsibilities of authors in times of institutional injustice and suffering. Stephen Jarrell Williams points to a hinge moment in a civilization, when a society reaches a necessary collapse that leads to a more just rebirth.

Dr. Jernail S. Anand reflects on human weakness and limitation, arguing that imperfection is not something to overcome but something that gives life its depth and meaning. In conversation, Dr. Jernail Singh and Dr. Annie John describe poetry as a spiritual and ethical journey. The poet becomes both witness and seeker, exploring human suffering while reaching toward universal wisdom. J.J. Campbell becomes an observer in his own life, as apathy with wry humor is safer than grief. Priyanka Neogi points out that each of us have different layers and dimensions to our personalities. Nidia Amelia Garcia speculates on the life and wisdom of an old man by observing his photograph. Teresa de Lujan Safar’s piece celebrates the grace, strength, self-possession, and inner dignity of an older woman. With another human response, Thi Lan Anh Tran and Musharraf Hussain celebrate perseverance and inner strength, showing how resilience allows individuals to rise beyond adversity.

As we are part of nature, outdoor landscapes can mirror the landscapes of the soul. Shah Jehan Ashrafi views autumn as a profound metaphor for death, surrender, transformation, and rebirth. The falling leaves become symbols of necessary endings that make new beginnings possible. Mahbub Alam speaks to the cleansing and renewing energy of the Bangladeshi monsoon rains. O’ktamova Sabrina Mahmud qizi describes an ecological analysis of the health of Uzbek humus and soil. Dessy Tsvetskova’s Tree of Life portrays women as a source of creation, memory, resilience, and renewal. Rooted in the earth yet reaching toward the heavens, the tree represents continuity across generations.

Ananya Guha celebrates the beauty of dancing peacocks, offering a moment of wonder and connection with the natural world. Timothee Bordenave explores ideas that benefit both humanity and the environment, suggesting that the health of the planet is connected to the health of the human spirit. Brian Barbeito captures the quiet landscape of winter, reminding readers of the shared rhythms of nature and the reflective stillness that accompanies seasonal change. Dianne Reeves Angel reminisces about long stretches of teen summer fun in the pool and with friends.

Art is one way humanity can join nature in the process of creation. Federico Wardal’s article notes the Egyptian government’s commitment to promoting and showcasing current and historical arts and culture. Andrena Zawinksi explores the artist’s search to create, be recognized, and remain alive through creative expression. Alex Johnson reflects on the relationship between life and art through his encounter with a publicist representing Philip Glass, revealing the irony that reality itself can sometimes imitate artistic structures. Tanja Ajtic’s poem threads watercolor’s quiet disciplines of washes, shades, making use of empty white space, into a metaphor for a life lived in silence, holding back opinions, feeling the world’s eruptions but never speaking of them. Christina Chin’s haiga and illustration create a unified moment of beauty, demonstrating how words and images can combine to form a single imaginative landscape. Cri8or’s vibrant digital artworks add splashes of color and intriguing shapes to the issue. Fhen M. uses ekphrastic poetry inspired by Priamo della Quercia’s Circle of the Falsifiers to explore the destruction caused by dishonesty and the moral landscapes created by truth and deception. Maria Barnes journeys into a darker psychological landscape, using unsettling imagery and music to symbolize the struggle between the conscious self and hidden fears.

The soul also grows through learning and discovery. Ismatova Dilnura emphasizes the importance of books in children’s education, illustrating reading as a gateway to imagination, knowledge, and possibility. Omonova Dinora Anvarjon qizi celebrates the many ideas and life lessons found within books. Navbaxar Mahmudjanovna Karimova points to ways to encourage the creation of new educational knowledge. Amonboyeva Shahnoza examines the changing landscape of education in the age of artificial intelligence. While technology may assist learning, she argues that creativity, imagination, and human connection remain uniquely human qualities. Although, as Ibroximova Hayitxon Mirzoxidjon qizi points out, artificial intelligence may take over in other human endeavors, including accounting. Maxliyo Alijonova highlights the educational work of Uzbekistan’s Ashurali Legacy Academy, demonstrating how institutions preserve knowledge, culture, and intellectual heritage. Akhmetova Nodira Po’lat qizi underscores the importance of digital literacy for modern Uzbek students. Jasmina Ismatullayeva relates the value of study-abroad experiences for students and why she wishes to travel.

Finally, a few works in this collection highlight the depths of truth within ordinary experiences. Travis Park’s brief, image-driven poems transform familiar places into reflections on uncertainty, memory, and human connection. Mykyta Ryzhykh uses the sea and the house as symbols of existence, showing humanity surrounded by immense forces while often feeling isolated and forgotten. Shlok Pandey’s coming-of-age story addresses loneliness, compassion, observation, and the discovery of beauty in everyday life. Naeem Aziz reminds readers that true value often exists beneath appearances, encouraging a deeper understanding of the gifts each person carries.

Together, these works create a map of the human soul. They travel through valleys of suffering, gardens of love, mountains of reflection, and seasons of transformation. They show that every person carries an inner landscape shaped by memory, relationships, struggles, dreams, and hopes.

“Landscapes of the Soul” reveals that humanity is defined not by avoiding hardship, but by transforming experience into wisdom, compassion, creativity, and renewal. Across cultures and voices, these writers remind us that the journey inward is also a journey toward one another. We hope that you enjoy hearing from each other throughout this issue!