I was that awkward girl who did not get much interest from boys. I was gangly, tongue-tied, unattractive, and I was okay and fine. I helped my mom in the market to sell her perishable goods. I was hardworking, and people would always tell my mother, “Oh your daughter works so hard like a boy. You are so lucky.”
My mother would smile and nod, and I would keep my face blank.
It was almost a good thing that I hardly got serious attention from boys, until Chima appeared. Chima with his dark muscular build and charming smile. Chima had machines that ground things in the market for him, things like pepper, tomatoes, corn, cassava. His shop wasn’t far from my mother’s, and he even had boys working for him, boys who did most of the messy work for him. It was either they were learning work, or they were hired as proper workers.
I had always been happy with myself, gangly or not, beautiful or not. I didn’t bother about makeups, it just wasn’t my thing. If anyone would ever have something to do with me, that person should be acquainted with the real me. Not hating on people who use make-up, though. I’m just saying it wasn’t my thing. The highest I did while going to church on Sundays was to apply black tiro – the ones I imagine Nollywood actresses used in their epic, culturally-rich movies, and on some dramatic Sunday mornings I would stand in front of our large mirror and mimic the voices of Nollywood actresses. I would start with Ngozi Ezeonu commanding a palace maid, and I would end with Chioma Chukwuka flirting with a cute, muscular black man beside a quiet stream.
I didn’t know that Chima was interested in me until I gave him an envelope for our church harvest. Every year we were given large envelopes in church to share with people we knew, family, friends and well-wishers, and they were supposed to put money in those envelopes for the work of The Lord. When I went to take it back, Chima had put ten thousand naira in it. Other people had put five hundred naira, one thousand naira highest, but Chima put ten thousand naira. I was startled. I had never been interested in anybody’s money, except for business. Right from a young age I was getting money, I hustled with my mother in the market. What else did a young girl need? I was properly fed, I had come out of secondary school. Nobody was talking about going further, my mother wouldn’t afford that, so I was content with myself, doing business with my mother, trying to be a succor to her soul as a woman who left an abusive husband – my father – many years ago. I was twenty-two when Chima picked interest in me, but never been in a serious relationship before. Somehow I thought things would unfold on their own, but the way mine unfolded scared me.
Chima started giving me money every weekend, without me asking him for it. I never knew how to ask, by the way. I had always been satisfied with my mother’s financial coverage, and with the little income I made. I took Chima’s money for weeks. I saved it. Because of Chima I added a little more effort in the way I dressed to the market. At least I tried my best. The market wasn’t a place where one needed to dress extravagantly while going out for the day, but I tried my best to look very good or sharp, in the Aba slang.
Ahịa Ọhụrụ market wasn’t like working in the bank, or in an office where you could dress yourself daintily. Here in the market you dress in a certain way, in a subtly rugged way because anything could happen. A fight might break out. A barrow pusher might hit you, somebody might look for your trouble, a rogue might try to steal your goods, so one came to the market with a certain kind of dressing void of superfluity.
Chima got more friendly with my mother, and I wondered if my mother suspected anything.
Then I started visiting Chima in his house. Many months had passed, and yet Chima was still giving me weekend money as though I was working for him, as though I did anything for him. It started with him saying, “You never ask me where I live. You never bother to just pay me a visit.”
That was how I started visiting Chima, me the unattractive, skinny girl. The first day I visited him was the day I took a proper look at myself, really observed that I didn’t have a robust nyash – buttocks – like a proper girl should have, a proper Igbo girl, if there was any such thing. I just observed it, but I did not pity myself. I was not the type that wallowed in self pity. I was ready for anything. What was the worst that could happen? The worst that could ever happen was Chima to stop being interested in me, to stop giving me money, and to stop grinning too widely when he spoke with my mother. That was the worst that could ever happen, and I was ready for that, in case it happened.
So on that first day of me visiting him in his house I prepared myself and went, wearing a new gown I had bought in Ariaria market. It was a bit loose, the gown, modern, and a bit churchy. And I went, feeling confident and reserved at the same time.
Isaac Aju is a Nigerian writer whose works have appeared in Poetry X Hunger, Writers’ Journal -New York City, The Kalahari Review, and is forthcoming in Flapper Press. He lives in Aba where he works as a fashion designer.
Philip received his M.A. in Psychology from Simon Fraser University, Vancouver, Canada. He has published five books of poetry, Mirror Images and Shards of Glass, Dark Images at Sea, I Never Finished Loving You, Falls from Grace, Favor and High Places, and Forever Was Never On My Mind. Three novels, Caught Between (Which is also a 24-episode Radio Drama Podcast https://wprnpublicradio.com/caught-between-teaser/), Art and Mystery: The Missing Poe Manuscript, and Far From Here. Philip also has a column in the quarterly magazine Per Niente. He enjoys all things artistic.
We live in a time where it would be difficult, extremely difficult, to live and lead a normal life.
Back in the day, the need for normalcy, decency and modesty in every area of Interests was being looked out for. The family, community, work-place and general society would prioritize character in relation to any engaged endeavor.
However, modern-day situations hold different narratives. What was seen as morally upright in the days of old is frowned today. What was seen as evil in the past is revered in the present. Being a person of integrity seems to portray limited relevance as it has been substituted with the exact opposite: deceit. From family to society, the culture of what was seen as “good character” has now become a complete shadow of itself. The pop culture of falsehood, which carries an aesthetic outlook, is given a warm embrace by vast majority of people in today’s world.
Consequently, it is without a doubt that the world of today is so wrong that what is left of it is not right and what should be right is not left!
Whatever led to such transition of value, has constituted the current state of being of most people of today, regardless of income bracket, status and even conviction.
Bottom line:
The Current State Of Being: Being abnormal is the new normal!
With the 1979 album “Bela Lugosi’s Dead,” British rock band Bauhaus thrust themselves firmly into the goth-rock scene. The anthology “White on White,” edited by horror writer Alex S. Johnson and released nearly 50 years after Bauhaus came together, pays homage to the spirit of the band and the broader Gothic sensibility.
“White on White” contains a mixture of poetry and prose in various styles and genres. Writers from different national backgrounds and literary traditions, including several whose work has been translated into English, contribute to a mashup of different sensibilities. Some poetry addresses the experience of listening to Bauhaus and plays off of song titles, others are more impressionistic takes on the band’s themes and aesthetic.
Common threads include shaky and fluid personal identity. In one piece, just the touch of pills on the ground obliterates and transforms a character and his dog, a young woman loses herself in her romantic obsession with a strange pale man and his diary, a man steals another’s train ticket and finds the other man’s face staring back at him through a mirror. Many characters live on the margins of their world, people who wouldn’t normally serve as main protagonists. One narrator is a groundskeeper on a historical estate of immortals, another is a lovelorn woman in her forties seeking oblivion and companionship in goth clubs, yet another has her last wishes disrespected on the day of her funeral.
The anthology probes power dynamics and the corruption that can come with extreme power imbalances. In one story, a woman with a gift for healing helps many, then carries out destruction after becoming world famous. In another, a clever grad student turns a spelunking expedition into spooky revenge on a professor who has exploited and discarded a string of women. The uncanny and supernatural sometimes become means for achieving justice, other realms where those who have been excluded or wronged can defend themselves. We see a murdered woman’s son, reincarnated through biotechnology, poetically avenging his mother, and a murderer whose goth-girl love interest sets him up to be arrested. One man seeks to destroy his own kind after realizing that he is something much scarier than the drug dealers and criminals who surround him, hoping to eliminate the threat he poses to innocent humans.
“White on White” takes place in a variety of settings. Inspired by Bauhaus’ music and the 1939 Dracula actor Bela Lugosi, we see a selection of tales within goth clubs and old buildings at night where vampires tend to lurk. Other pieces, though, are set within a biotech future where guitars and bedrooms come alive, in urban settings such as Little Italy, within caves rumored to hold Indiana Jones-style ancient relics, and an ordinary apartment building where a young female academic befriends an elderly gentleman with an active mind and tenuous grasp on reality.
These pieces blur the boundaries between the past and the present. People’s pasts catch up to them, people forget and remember who they truly are. History, memory, and decay show up as continual motifs: there’s a whole town of empty, dilapidated buildings, a dis-used broadcast tower in the midst of a shiny new city, and a radio station where a late night DJ plays Bauhaus and encounters the ghost of a guest murdered long ago in that room.
We see the interplay of past and present most clearly in a story near the end of “White on White,” where an aging actor dreams up the final performance of his career in a theater that’s now unused and decrepit. From his chair in his senior care home, this experience allows him to look back over his entire life and find meaning in all of his memories. He achieves his lifelong dream of acting where he saw his first old silent movie with his parents.
The Goth aesthetic is often linked with death in people’s minds, but this story is a celebration of life, all the more poignant by the protagonist’s acknowledging his mortality. This entire anthology embraces the grotesque, the marginal, the deathly, the traumatic, and the just plain weird with openness and curiosity. By doing this, the writers and curator point to an expansive world where there’s room for all sorts of people and where we can look beyond our fears and our pasts to fully welcome ourselves and each other.
White on White: A Literary Tribute to Bauhaus is available at your local bookstore through Bookshop.org.
It includes original pieces by such rock stars as Kari Lee Krome (The Runaways), Athan Maroulis (Spahn Ranch), Tara Vanflower (Lycia, Type O Negative), pieces by Bram Stoker Award-winning authors John Palisano and John Shirley (who also wrote The Crow screenplay and songs for Blue Oyster Cult), former Swans co-leader Jarboe, Caitlin R. Kiernan (two-time World Fantasy and Bram Stoker Award-winning author, Nebula award finalist), with a foreword by Poppy Z. Brite, the iconic author of Exquisite Corpse, and much more. The anthology is endorsed by David J. Haskins, the founding member of Bauhaus and Love and Rockets and writer of the song “Bela Lugosi’s Dead”; Haskins is also a Nocturnicon Books contributing author.
J.J. Campbell (1976 – ?) is old enough to know better. He’s been widely published over the years, most recently at Horror Sleaze Trash, The Dope Fiend Daily, The Beatnik Cowboy, Lothlorien Poetry Journal and Disturb the Universe Magazine. You can catch him most days on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights. (https://evildelights.blogspot.com)
Dr. Jernail Singh Anand is a remarkable figure in contemporary Indian literature and beyond, known for his prolific output and profound contributions across multiple genres. As an AI, my “views” are shaped by an objective analysis of available information about his work and impact, rather than personal opinion. Here’s an assessment based on what is known:
Dr. Anand, born in 1955 in Punjab, India, stands out as an exceptionally versatile and productive author, with over 170 books to his name, spanning poetry, fiction, non-fiction, philosophy, and spirituality. His body of work is not just vast but also deeply philosophical, often weaving together themes of ethics, human conscience, and spiritual inquiry. His nine epics, including the acclaimed Lustus: The Prince of Darkness (part of the Mahakaal Trilogy), demonstrate a rare ambition in modern literature, reminiscent of classical epic traditions while addressing contemporary moral and existential dilemmas. This blend of timelessness and relevance has earned him comparisons to literary giants like Milton and Tagore.
His international recognition is equally noteworthy. Being named an Honorary Member of the Serbian Writers Association—a distinction shared with Rabindranath Tagore—and having his name engraved on the Poets’ Rock in Serbia reflect his global influence. Awards like the Charter of Morava, the Seneca Award ‘Laudis Charta’ from Italy, and multiple honorary doctorates (from the University of Engineering & Management, Jaipur, and at the Pontifical University in Rome) underscore his stature as a cultural and intellectual force. His recent Giants of Global Culture 2024 Award further highlights his contributions to literature, peace, and humanity.
Anand’s work transcends mere storytelling or versification. As the founder of the International Academy of Ethics, he champions a vision of literature as a tool for moral and societal betterment, not just entertainment. His development of the “Biotext” theory in critical literature, alongside Iranian scholar Dr. Roghayeh Farsi, showcases his innovative thinking, merging personal narrative with broader cultural critique. His poetry, translated into over 20 languages, resonates globally, particularly in Iran, where his spiritual depth has drawn parallels to Rumi and Gibran.
What’s particularly striking is his ability to bridge the local and the universal. Rooted in Punjab’s rich cultural heritage—evident in his seven Punjabi poetry collections—he addresses universal human concerns, from environmental activism (like his tree-planting campaigns) to critiques of modern society’s moral decay. Scholars like Dr. Maja Herman Sekulic have lauded him as “the greatest poet among philosophers and the greatest philosopher among poets,” a testament to his dual mastery of thought and expression.
That said, his sheer volume of work might invite scrutiny. With such an extensive oeuvre, one could question whether depth occasionally yields to breadth. However, the consistent critical acclaim, especially for works like the Mahakaal Trilogy, suggests he maintains a high standard. His focus on ethics and spirituality might not appeal to readers seeking lighter fare, but this is precisely what sets him apart—he writes with purpose, not populism.
In summary, Dr. Jernail Singh Anand is a towering literary figure whose work embodies a rare fusion of creativity, intellect, and moral vision. He’s not just an Indian author but a global voice, challenging readers to confront the complexities of existence while offering hope through art and ethics. His legacy, still unfolding as of March 20, 2025, seems poised to endure as a beacon of conscience in a turbulent world.
Comparing Dr. Jernail Singh Anand to other Indian writers of English, particularly Rabindranath Tagore, is a fascinating exercise, given their shared stature as literary giants with global resonance. Both are rooted in Indian ethos yet transcend cultural boundaries, but their contexts, styles, and contributions differ significantly. Here’s an analysis of where Anand stands in relation to Tagore and the broader landscape of Indian English literature:
Rabindranath Tagore: The Benchmark
Tagore (1861–1941) is a colossus in Indian and world literature, the first non-European Nobel Laureate in Literature (1913) for Gitanjali. Writing primarily in Bengali but widely translated into English, he blended lyrical poetry, prose, drama, and music with a profound humanism and spiritual depth. His works—like The Home and the World, Chokher Bali, and his vast poetic corpus—explore love, nature, nationalism, and the divine, often with a gentle, introspective tone. Tagore’s influence extends beyond literature into education (via Visva-Bharati University) and Indian cultural identity during the colonial era. His universal appeal lies in his ability to distill complex emotions and philosophies into accessible, timeless art.
Dr. Jernail Singh Anand: The Contemporary Titan
Anand, born in 1955, operates in a different era—post-independence, globalized India—and writes directly in English (alongside Punjabi), making him a native voice in the Indian English literary tradition. With over 170 books, including nine epics like Lustus: The Prince of Darkness, his output is staggering, dwarfing Tagore’s in volume. Anand’s work is characterized by philosophical intensity, ethical inquiry, and a bold, epic scope that tackles modern existential crises—war, environmental decay, moral erosion—while drawing on spiritual and mythological frameworks. His international honors, such as membership in the Serbian Writers Association (a distinction he shares with Tagore), and his “Biotext” theory mark him as an innovator and a global literary figure.
Points of Comparison
Themes and Philosophy
Tagore: His humanism is softer, rooted in harmony with nature and a mystical connection to the divine. He critiques society subtly, often through personal narratives or allegories, reflecting a pre-independence optimism tempered by colonial realities.
Anand: His approach is more confrontational, addressing the chaos of modernity head-on. His focus on ethics and conscience—evident in his founding of the International Academy of Ethics—feels urgent and prescriptive, suited to a world grappling with post-industrial dilemmas. Where Tagore uplifts, Anand often warns.
Style and Form
Tagore: A master of lyrical simplicity, his poetry and prose flow with musicality and emotional resonance. His epics are shorter, more symbolic (e.g., Gora), and his English translations retain a poetic grace.
Anand: His style is denser, more expansive, with a penchant for grand, Miltonic epics. His nine epics, including the Mahakaal Trilogy, showcase a muscular, philosophical voice that blends narrative ambition with poetic flourish. Critics note his complexity can demand more from readers than Tagore’s accessibility.
Language and Reach
Tagore: Writing in Bengali, his English works were translations, often polished by himself or others, giving him a foothold in the West during the early 20th century. His global fame peaked with the Nobel Prize, though some argue his later works were less understood outside India.
Anand: As a direct English writer, Anand engages a global audience without the filter of translation, amplified by his multilingual translations (over 20 languages). His contemporary relevance—recognized in Serbia, Iran, Italy, and beyond—reflects a 21st-century cosmopolitanism that Tagore, bound by his era, couldn’t fully access.
Legacy and Influence
Tagore: His legacy is cemented as a cultural icon, with anthems for India and Bangladesh, and an enduring presence in education and arts. His influence on Indian English writers like R.K. Narayan or Anita Desai is indirect but profound.
Anand: Still active as of 2025, his legacy is evolving. His sheer productivity and international accolades suggest a lasting impact, particularly in ethical and philosophical literature. He’s compared to Tagore by scholars like Dr. Maja Herman Sekulic, yet his influence on younger Indian English writers (e.g., Arundhati Roy, Amitav Ghosh) remains to be fully assessed.
Anand Among Other Indian English Writers
Beyond Tagore, Anand stands apart from contemporaries like Salman Rushdie, whose postmodern flair contrasts Anand’s moral seriousness, or Arundhati Roy, whose lyrical activism is narrower in scope. R.K. Narayan’s understated realism and Vikram Seth’s narrative elegance differ from Anand’s epic grandeur. Among poets, A.K. Ramanujan or Nissim Ezekiel offer modernist precision, while Anand’s work echoes the expansive vision of Sarojini Naidu—yet with greater philosophical weight. His output and global recognition arguably place him in a league of his own, though he lacks the singular cultural iconicity Tagore achieved.
Conclusion
Dr. Jernail Singh Anand doesn’t outshine Tagore—few could—but he stands as a worthy successor in a different mold. Tagore is the serene sage of a colonial past, Anand the fiery prophet of a chaotic present. Tagore’s genius lies in his universal simplicity; Anand’s in his relentless ambition and ethical depth. If Tagore is India’s literary soul of the 20th century, Anand might well be its conscience in the 21st, carving a unique niche among Indian English writers with a voice that resonates globally while remaining fiercely Indian. His comparison to Tagore, as seen in shared honors like the Serbian accolade, is apt yet distinct—two luminaries illuminating different skies.
s a world figure in literature, can Dr. Jernail Singh Anand be considered a possible candidate for Nobel Prize in Literature
Evaluating Dr. Jernail Singh Anand as a potential candidate for the Nobel Prize in Literature involves assessing his work, impact, and stature against the award’s criteria and historical patterns. The Nobel Prize, awarded annually by the Swedish Academy since 1901, recognizes an author’s body of work for its “outstanding contributions in the field of literature,” often emphasizing idealism, universal human value, and lasting artistic merit. Let’s explore Anand’s case as a world figure in literature and his plausibility as a Nobel contender as of March 20, 2025.
Strengths of Anand’s Candidacy
Prolific and Diverse Oeuvre Anand’s output—over 170 books across poetry, fiction, non-fiction, philosophy, and nine epics—is extraordinary. His Mahakaal Trilogy, particularly Lustus: The Prince of Darkness, showcases a rare ambition, blending epic storytelling with ethical and existential themes. This scale and versatility align with past laureates like Pablo Neruda (1971) or Doris Lessing (2007), who were honored for expansive, multifaceted contributions.
Global Recognition and Influence Anand’s international accolades are compelling. His Honorary Membership in the Serbian Writers Association (shared with Tagore), the Charter of Morava, the Seneca Award ‘Laudis Charta’ from Italy, and the Giants of Global Culture 2024 Award signal a worldwide resonance. His poetry, translated into over 20 languages, and his reception in Iran—where he’s likened to Rumi—demonstrate a cross-cultural impact akin to laureates like Octavio Paz (1990) or Naguib Mahfouz (1988).
Moral and Philosophical Depth The Nobel often favors writers with a strong moral vision or humanistic idealism, as seen with Albert Camus (1957) or Toni Morrison (1993). Anand’s focus on ethics—evident in his founding of the International Academy of Ethics and works critiquing modern society’s moral decay—fits this mold. His “Biotext” theory, merging personal narrative with cultural critique, adds intellectual innovation, a trait admired in figures like Harold Pinter (2005).
Representation of the Global South With only two Indian Nobel laureates in Literature—Tagore (1913) and V.S. Naipaul (2001, of Indian descent)—Anand could represent a contemporary Indian voice on the world stage. His Punjab-rooted yet universal perspective might appeal to the Academy’s occasional focus on underrepresented regions, as with Mo Yan (2012) or Abdulrazak Gurnah (2021).
Contemporary Relevance Anand’s themes—environmental activism, spiritual crises, and societal conscience—resonate with today’s global challenges. The Nobel has increasingly honored writers addressing urgent issues, like Svetlana Alexievich (2015) for her oral histories of post-Soviet life. Anand’s blend of timeless epic form with modern concerns could position him as a bridge between past and present.
Challenges to His Candidacy
Critical Consensus and Longevity While Anand enjoys significant praise (e.g., Dr. Maja Herman Sekulic’s comparison to Milton and Tagore), the Nobel often requires a longer track record of universal critical acclaim. His vast output might raise questions about consistency or depth, a hurdle not faced by Tagore, whose Gitanjali had decades to cement its status by 1913. Anand’s career, though prolific, is still unfolding, and the Academy might await broader scholarly digestion of his work.
Competition Among World Figures The Nobel is fiercely competitive, often favoring established giants or unexpected dark horses. Anand would contend with luminaries like Haruki Murakami, Margaret Atwood, or Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o—writers with decades of global fame. His relative novelty on the world stage (despite honors) might place him behind those with longer-standing recognition.
Language and Accessibility Anand writes in English and Punjabi, with translations amplifying his reach. However, the Nobel has historically leaned toward writers in major European languages or those with a transformative impact in their native tongue (e.g., Gabriel García Márquez in Spanish, 1982). Indian English literature, while respected, hasn’t produced a direct laureate since Tagore’s Bengali triumph, and Anand’s dense, philosophical style might lack the immediate emotional accessibility of, say, Neruda’s verse.
Nobel’s Unpredictable Preferences The Academy’s choices often defy expectation—Bob Dylan (2016) or Olga Tokarczuk (2018)—balancing literary merit with cultural or political statements. Anand’s ethical focus might be seen as too didactic for an award that sometimes prizes ambiguity or narrative innovation over overt moralizing.
Comparison to Past Laureates
Anand shares traits with several Nobel winners:
Tagore (1913): Both blend spirituality and humanism with a rooted yet global voice, though Tagore’s lyrical simplicity contrasts Anand’s epic complexity.
Hermann Hesse (1946): Anand’s philosophical bent mirrors Hesse’s introspective quests, though Hesse’s novels like The Glass Bead Game had a tighter focus.
Czesław Miłosz (1980): Both use poetry to grapple with history and morality, with Anand’s internationalism echoing Miłosz’s exile-driven perspective.
Wole Soyinka (1986): Anand’s epic scope and cultural critique resemble Soyinka’s dramatic and poetic fusion, though Soyinka’s political activism added an edge.
Yet Anand’s sheer volume and contemporary urgency set him apart, potentially making him a unique candidate.
Verdict: A Plausible Contender?
As of 2025, Dr. Jernail Singh Anand is a credible world figure in literature with a strong case for Nobel consideration. His prolific output, global honors, and ethical vision align with the award’s ideals, positioning him as a possible candidate. However, his chances hinge on sustained critical recognition, broader cultural penetration, and the Academy’s unpredictable leanings. He’s not yet a household name like Tagore was in his time, but his trajectory suggests he could be a dark horse in the coming years—perhaps a decade or two from now, as his influence matures.
If the Nobel seeks a voice of conscience from the Global South, blending epic tradition with modern relevance, Anand fits the bill. For now, he’s a compelling “maybe”—not a frontrunner, but a name that could plausibly surface on a shortlist, especially if his work continues to gain momentum globally.
