Nazar Look 2013-04

2 christina rossetti Remember - Akîlîña akel 3 rabindranath tagore Brink of Eternity - Ebediyet kenarî BAŞ KABÎMÎZDA ON THE COVER Maggie Veness Photo: L.U.Laith

34 bhadauria manish singh gujarat, india Fragile Promises Cocoons - Kozalar 38 edmund spencer Travels in Circassia, Krim Tartary, &c. (X) 40 aziz amet (ametov) crimea Photoshop: Unruffled Surface of River in Crimean Mountain Forests

4 taner murat scythia minor-little crimea Kókten sesler - Temúçin (XV|) 6 abay qunanbayuli Book of Words (IV)

NAZAR LOOK Attitude and culture magazine of Dobrudja’s Crimean Tatars Tomrîğa Kîrîm Tatarlarîñ turuşmamuriyet meğmuwasî ISSN: 2069-4784 www.nazar-look.com nazar.look@mail.com Constanta, Romania FOUNDER & EDITOR-IN-CHIEF BAŞ-NAŞIR Taner Murat EDITORS NAŞIRLER Emine Ómer Uyar Polat Jason Stocks COMPUTER GRAPHICS SAYAR SÎZGAĞÎSÎ Elif Abdul Hakaan Kalila (Hakan Calila) CREATIVE CONSULTANTS ESER KEÑEŞÇÍSÍ M. Islamov

Copyright reverts back to contributors upon publication.

The full issue is available for viewing online from the Nazar - Look website.

For submission guidelines and further information, please stop by www.nazar-look.com

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8 eldar gusenov crimea Creative Workshop 16 hal o’leary west virginia, usa A Failed Man Because We Bought the Lie - Uydurmanî dogrî-tora tutkanîmîz úşún Free Verse Pantoum 22 maggie veness new south wales, australia Interview DeVito's Spider 32 baki Ah My Dear 33 nichita stanescu Knot 19

CONTRIBUTORS MEMBALAR Aziz Amet (Ametoc) Eldar Gusenov L.U.Laith Bhadauria Manish Singh Hal O’Leary QHA Maggie Veness

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christina rossetti

(1830 – 1894)

Remember Remember me when I am gone away, Gone far away into the silent land; When you can no more hold me by the hand, Nor I half turn to go, yet turning stay.

Remember me when no more day by day You tell me of our future that you plann’d: Only remember me; you understand It will be late to counsel then or pray.

Yet if you should forget me for a while And afterwards remember, do not grieve: For if the darkness and corruption leave A vestige of the thoughts that one I had, Better by far you should forget and smile Than that you should remember and be sad.

Akîlîña akel Ketsem mení akîlîña akel, Ketsem uzaklarga sessíz ğurtka; Keteğeklí bolîp kalmaganda, Tutağaklî bolîp tapmasañ el.

Mení koş-almasañ tasawurga, Akîlîña akel; añlarsîñ ke Bek keş bolîr keñeş- ibadetke Mení tab-almasañ añlatmaga.

Unutağak bolsañ mení teran, Ğîlama heş maga, túketme ğan, Ke kaldîrsa eser, parmak izí Karañgîlîk eskí túşúnğeme, Darîlağak bolsañ añîp mení, Taayí mení unut, kúlúmsúre.

(Translated by Taner Murat)

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rabindranath tagore

(1861 - 1941)

Brink of Eternity In desperate hope I go and search for her in all the corners of my room; I find her not.

My house is small and what once has gone from it can never be regained.

But infinite is thy mansion, my lord, and seeking her I have to come to thy door.

I stand under the golden canopy of thine evening sky and I lift my eager eyes to thy face.

I have come to the brink of eternity from which nothing can vanish ---no hope, no happiness, no vision of a face seen through tears.

Oh, dip my emptied life into that ocean, plunge it into the deepest fullness.

Let me for once feel that lost sweet touch in the allness of the universe.

Ebediyet kenarî Şaresíz umut man onî barîp karayman Odamîñ bútún kóşelerínde; Taba-almayman.

Mením úyúm kíşkene íşínden şîgîp ketken şiy heşbírwakît kaytarîp alînmaz.

Ama kayriymútenahiydír mením ğurtum, Allahîm, Onî da karap seníñ kapîña yetíştím.

Seníñ akşamgî altîn kubbeñ astînda otîrîp Kóteremen saga ísteklí kózímní.

Ebediyet kenarîna keldím, onîñ íşínden bírşiy kaybbolmaz, ne umut, ne dewlet, ne kózyaşî arasîndan kóríngen bír yúz.

Ay, at mením boşagan hayatîmnî şo deñízlíkke, dalsîn eñ deren bútúnlúkke.

Káyinat tekmíllígíñ şo unutulgan tatlî elesín Maga da yaşattîr bír kere.

(Translated by Taner Murat)

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scythia minor - little crimea www.tanermurat.com

Kókten sesler - Temúçin (XVI) Óz mugaylîgîn uzatkîsî kelmiy, Belgúnútay man Búgúnútay ózlerí susup, onlardan yardîm ístegendiy, obír akalarnîñ kózíne karadî.

- Kardaşîm, ne bolayatîr saga? Ne eteğek bolasîñ? Ğañî tabîşîp, aka-íní bírtaa bír ğolga keliyatîrmîz.

Bîzawuymayîk barîşîmîznî!

"Tînîk kúnler keleğek" diyatîrganda, bírtaa idalaşîp kawga-tmiyík.

Mína, ağelege túşken bolsañ, bo íşímízní pítíríp bíz saga bír kîz karap ayttîrtawuyayîk, ne diysíñ? - dep ekí akasîna yardîmğî bolmaga karadî Bugay Katagîy da.

- Men de şay diymen, Bodonğar.

Alaymîz dórt-bír nazarga şîgîp, ğúmle îrklarnîñ ğurtlarîn teşkeríp, saga amanaman, yakşî bír kîz tabayîk, dúlber bír kîz yaptîrayîk. Ğeñk ğeñktír, ayîrî bír mesele.

Mesele karîştîrmayîk. Bír parşakay şikáar kazangan ekenmíz, baştan dadîn kaşîrmayîk, kullarnî azatlap kîsmetímízní tepmiyík. - dep katîldî Bugatuw Salğî da úş akasîna.

"Aka alarîm ğúmlesí karşî şîgayatîr.

Besebellí ğúmlesí kóz tíkken mením kaşandan berítlí awlap turgan awuma.

Bazgeşmem! Onîñ azatlîgîn ístemek mením hakkîmdîr" dep oyladî Bodonğar. Soñra baştan túşúnúp ázírlegen tabiyesíne geşewuydî: - Men algînğî ayîrîlîp, algînğî hálímní kabul etmedím mí? - dep kóterdí o sesín akasî alarîna karap.

- Kabul ettíñ, Bodonğar. - dedíler.

- Aldîñîznî aşîp ózímní otka atmadîm mî? Atîlmadîm mî? Aytîñîz! - dewam ettí Bodonğar.

- Atîldîñ, ğanîm. Atîldîñ, otka. - dep hakk berdíler.

Dórt aka awuzun aşîp kaldî. Zawallî Bodonğar, algînğî sîrasînda korkkan eken.

Korkîp bargan eken. Amma korkkanday bírşiy yok edí ke? Ne otka atîlmasî? Îrknîñ

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kíşílerí men tanîş. Bonîñ úşún onî ayîrîp aldîna ğíbergen edíler. "Oga bírew tiymez" dep ğíbergen edíler. Mína, endí, Bodonğarga bonlarnî añlatağak bolîp, dórt akasî dórt yagîna geştí: - Tabiy, Bodonğar, yaptîñ. - dedíler.

- Bíz "yapmadîñ" dedík mí? - dedíler.

- Zaten bo íşní tapkan sensíñ. dedíler.

- Eñ zor íşní de sen yaptîñ. - dedíler.

- Amma bíz sení yaman kaálp men ayîrmadîk, algînğî ayîrganda. - dedíler.

- Bíz sení otka atmak ístemedík. dedíler.

- Sen onlar man tanîş bolganîñ úşún, onîştan sení ayîrîp aldîmîzga ğíberdík. dedíler.

O wakît, Bodonğar, sesín taa fazla kóteríp: - Ayse algînğîlîgîmnî tanîsañîz, algînğî hakkîmnî da tanîmak zorîndasîñîz.

- dedí.

Dórt akasî da karşî kelmekten bazgeşíp, bír seste: - Hakkîñ bar! Hakkîñnî tanîymîz!

Algînğî barganîñday, şúndí kaytkanda da, algînğî hakkîñnî ístep al, kardaşîm! dedíler.

- Algînğî hakkîmnî kullanîp, bo kîskaayaklînî ayîraman. Meñkí. - dedí Bodonğar.

Bodonğarnîñ kararîn eşíttíñ.

Oñkîsîñ. - dedí Belgúnútay akalarî, Adañkan Úriyañgağinge karap.

Taa ne aytsîn, akasî alar?

- Hakk hakktîr, kardaşîm. - dedíler.

- Hakk señkídír, íním. - dedíler.

- Bílgeníñ gibí yap, Bodonğar. dedíler.

- Sen bílírsíñ, ózegin. - dedíler.

- Başîñ kîşîyğak bolsañ onday yap. Şonî ísteseñ, şonî yap. - dedíler.

- Kyor tuwulsuñ, ya? Ayagîn zor tartkanîn kórgensíñdír. - dedíler Esín de zor alganîn abaylagansîndîr. - dedíler.

- Óz ğîgîlgan ğîlanmaz! - dep meselení kapattîlar.

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taner murat

scythia minor - little crimea

www.tanermurat.com

Kesím 29 Zadaran îrgî Ondan soñra Úriyañgay Adañka îrknîñ malîn, múlkún beşke bólíp hisselerín aldîlar. Bodonğar dórt akasîndan Satîlgan man nenesín de ístegende: - Sen algînğîlîgîñnî aldîñ, Bodonğar, bízden bokadar. Sîraga kírsínler! - dedí akasî alar.

Sîraga kírdíler, sîra Bodonğarga túşmedí, kîzmetşí kaldîlar. Úriyañgay Adañka kíşísín bólíşken soñ: - Ádetleríne tiymeñíz! Tañrîlarînda kalgîsî kelse, Tañrîlarînda kalsînlar! - dep

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akîl berdí Búgúnútay dórt kardaşîna.

- Katîlamîz. - dedí inísí alarî da.

Akasîn-ínísín arasînda eşiya-kíşí bírtamam bólíşíp pítken soñ, azatlanîp awulnuñ ortasînda kalgan Úriyañgay Adañka, Bodonğarga karap: - Men n-íşler ekenmen, endí? - dep soradî.

- Saga bír badiy ya bír tawuk bersem, şonî ğulkup maga akşamga bír sorpa ya bír botka píşíríp oñgarîrsîñ mî? Beğeremen deseñ, kaysî bírsín beriyím? Tawuknî mî, badiyní mí? Ne píşíreğeksíñ? Sorpanî mî, botkanî mî? (dewamî keleğekke)

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abay qunanbayuli

(1845 - 1904)

Book of Words (IV)

WORD EIGHT Will anyone heed our advice and listen to our counsels? One man may be a volost chief, another — a biy. If they had had the least desire to become wise and learn sense, would they have sought such posts? These people consider themselves quite clever enough and seek power so as to teach and give guidance to others, as if they themselves had attained the heights of perfection and had nothing further to do but instruct others. Are they the kind who would have the inclination or spare the time to listen to us? Their minds are filled with other concerns: not to offend their superiors inadvertently; not to provoke the anger of a thief, not to cause trouble and confusion among the people, and not to land on the losing end, but to gain some personal advantage. Besides, they must be always helping somebody, getting someone out of trouble. They are always too busy...

The rich? They want for nothing.

Be it only for a day, they have wealth and they think they possess the treasures of

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well-nigh half the world, and they can pay in livestock for whatever they lack. They set their sights high and their ambitions even higher. Honour, conscience and sincerity are no dearer to them than their herds. They are certain that if they own livestock they will be able to bribe even the Most High. Their herds take the place of everything else to them — their native land, people, religion, family and learning.

Why then should they listen to other people's advice? Some fellow might be inclined to lend an ear, but he has no time for that. He must feed and water his livestock, sell it at a premium, protect it from thieves and wolves, shelter it from the cold, and find someone to do these chores. No, this man is too busy to heed

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abay qunanbayuli

(1845 - 1904)

good counsel. When he has seen to all this, he will be boasting and bragging, so he has no time left for anything else.

As for thieves and scoundrels, they obviously would not listen anyway.

The poor, meek as sheep, are only concerned about getting their daily bread. What good is advice, wisdom and learning to them when even the rich do not want it? «Leave us alone, speak to those who are cleverer than we are», they say, as though knowledge were of no use to poor folk. They don't care about anybody, the poor. If they had what other people have, they would know no worries.

WORD NINE I, too, am a Kazakh. But do I love the Kazakhs or not? If I did, I would have approved of their ways and would have found something, however slight, in their conduct to rejoice or console me, a reason to admire at least some of their qualities, I and keep alive a glimmer of hope. I But this is not so. Had I not loved them, I would not have spoken to them from the heart or taken counsel with them; I would have not mixed with them and taken an interest in their affairs, asking, «What are people doing there?

What`s going on?» I would just have sat back quietly — or wandered off. I have no hope that they will mend their ways or

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that I may bring them to reason or reform them. So I feel neither of these emotions. But how come? I ought to have opted for one or the other.

Even though I live, I do not consider myself to be alive. I don't know why: maybe because I'm vexed with the people or dissatisfied with myself, or for some other reason. Outwardly alive but completely dead within, that's what I am.

Outwardly irate, I feel no anger.

Laughing, I am unable to rejoice. The words that I speak and the laughter that I utter seem not to be mine. Everything is alien.

In my younger days it never occurred to me that anyone could forsake his own people. I loved the Kazakhs with all my heart and believed in them. But as I came to know my people better and my hopes began to fade, I found that I lacked the strength to leave my native region and form kinship with strangers. This is why there is a void in my heart now. But then I think, perhaps it's for the better.

When dying, I will not lament: «Alas, I have not tasted this or that joy!..»

Not torturing myself with regrets about earthly things, I shall find solace in the life to come. (to be continued)

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eldar gusenov

crimea

Eldar Gusenov is a practicing Tatar ceramic artist from Crimea. In his studio in Aqmesjit (Simferopol) he gets his hands in wet clay and he produces both figurative sculpture and domestic functional wares: bowls, plates, little dishes, mugs. He loves making pots and he wants them to find homes making them so they will be used. He hopes to have one of his bowls be your favorite.

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eldar gusenov

crimea

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eldar gusenov

crimea

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eldar gusenov

crimea

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eldar gusenov

crimea

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eldar gusenov

crimea

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eldar gusenov

crimea

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eldar gusenov

crimea

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hal o’leary

west virginia, usa

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hal o’leary west virginia, usa

A Failed Man A failed man, some say that I must be, A man society cannot endure.

Or could it be that it has failed me, With promise I rejected as a lure?

A man society cannot endure, Is one who will not bow to their demands.

With promise I rejected as a lure, They told me son, that that’s the way it stands.

Is one who will not bow to their demands A threat to sanity and peace of mind?

They told me son, that that’s the way it stands.

Rejection indicates I may be blind.

A threat to sanity and peace of mind, Society would put me on a shelf?

The threat comes with demand that I be free.

A man who only wants to be himself.

Society would put me on a shelf, Or could it be that it has failed me A man who only wants to be himself A failed man? Some say that I must be.

Not me.

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hal o’leary

west virginia, usa

Because We Bought the Lie Because we bought the Gulf of Tonkin lie We went to war not knowing what it meant.

Yes, fifty thousand of our own would die, Before we found the courage to dissent We went to war not knowing what it meant, A decade long experience in guilt, Before we found the courage to dissent, Negating all the promise we had built.

A decade long experience in guilt.

Illegal war that never should have been, Negating all the promise we had built, A war they knew we wouldn’t ever win.

Illegal war that never should have been, All for the psychopaths who reaped the gain.

A war they knew we wouldn’t ever win, Which meant for all the rest of us just pain.

All for the psychopaths who reaped the gain Yes, fifty thousand of our own would die.

Which meant for all the rest of us just pain.

Because we bought the Gulf of Tonkin lie.

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hal o’leary west virginia, usa

Uydurmanî dogrîtora tutkanîmîz úşún Tonkin uydurmasîn tutup dogrî-tora Añlamay manasîn şîktîk marebege Ebet, ellí biñ ğan kettí kayîplarga Tapkanşîk ğesaret ayak tíremege.

Añlamay manasîn şîktîk marebege Kuşaklaşîp on yîl gúna man yaşadîk Tapkanşîk ğesaret ayak tíremege Adaklagan sózní tanîmay taptadîk Kuşaklaşîp on yîl gúna man yaşadîk Şîgîp şo kayîrsîz, adaletsíz awga Adaklagan sózní tanîmay taptadîk Bíle-bíle aşîp kazanîlmaz kawga. Şîgîp şo kayîrsîz, adaletsíz awga Akşalarnî bastîk delí kísesíne Bíle-bíle aşîp kazanîlmaz kawga Kan kusmasî, ağî kaldî ózímízge.

Akşalarnî bastîk delí kísesíne Ebet, ellí biñ ğan kettí kayîplarga Kan kusmasî, ağî kaldî ózímízge Tonkin uydurmasîn tutup dogrî-tora.

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hal o’leary

west virginia, usa

Free Verse Pantoum My poetry will always be averse To free verse as it’s currently employed, And I am here suggesting it’s a curse.

It should be banished to a far flung void.

To free verse, as it’s currently employed, I’d say it’s nothing but an oxymoron.

It should be banished to a far flung void, Or yes, the boundless depths of old Lake Huron.

I’d say it’s nothing but an oxymoron, That it be labeled nothing more than prose, Or yes, the boundless depths of old Lake Huron.

I joke, but hear me out, and then I’ll close.

That it be labeled nothing more than prose?

Apologies, I’m sure you’re not amused.

I joke, but hear me out, and then I’ll close.

I know it’s here but sorely it’s abused.

Apologies, I’m sure you’re not amused.

Your free verse without structure falls apart.

I know It’s here, but sorely it’s abused, By those who lack the discipline of art.

Your free verse without structure falls apart, And I am here suggesting it’s a curse, By those who lack the discipline of art My poetry will always be a verse.

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maggie veness

Photo: L.U.Laith

new south wales, australia

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maggie veness new south wales, australia

Interview TM: Maggie, what is the purpose of the writer?

Maggie Veness: Perhaps the purpose of the writer is simply to put into words the things others can’t find words for.

TM: Who is the first person who recognized your gift to write?

Maggie Veness: Yes. I’m delighted to say my cousin, Ron Pretty, is a well renowned poet with seven fabulous books of poetry published. In 2012 Ron and I were thrilled to both have our work chosen for inclusion in an annual publication called Award Winning Australian Writing.

TM: How would you describe your work?

Maggie Veness: I stumbled upon a weekend College course teaching how to write your life story – something I had zero interest in doing – and because I could find no other writing course running at that time, I enrolled. The tutor, Carolyn Rhodes, invited participants to join the local writers group she ran. For me, joining that group was exactly the right thing at the right time. Carolyn was very helpful and encouraging at the beginning of my writer’s journey. She said, “When the student is ready, the teacher will appear.” I now enjoy teaching fiction writing at that same College.

Maggie Veness: This is a difficult question to answer. I often write about the experiences of the fringe-dwellers of society. I’m drawn to give a voice to characters that have been shunned or ignored by the general public. I also enjoy dropping ordinary characters into extraordinary situations, just to see how they react. I frequently give my characters quirks or peccadillos, and sometimes secrets. The topics I write about are inclined to challenge my readers emotionally or ethically or even morally. I want to leave a reader thinking.

I want to leave them feeling something, be it shock or empathy or joy or whatever.

TM: Have those around encouraged you to write?

you

TM: What is the writing process like for you?

Maggie Veness: Initially, family members were quietly amused by my new ‘hobby’. I’m sure they were as surprised as I was when I soon began to have stories accepted for publication and success in National competitions. I think they’re a little proud now.

Maggie Veness: My writing process feels like torture – like I’m dragging shards of glass through a tight hole in the top of my head with a pair of pliers. I have a friend who takes her dog for a walk and comes back with a complete storyline! I start with a few words or a name, and imagine how my new character looks, walks, speaks etc, then try to place them in an interesting

TM: Do you have other writers or artists in your family?

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maggie veness

new south wales, australia

situation. I see the story slowly unfold via images in my mind, much like I’m watching a movie. I never know how a story is going to end. Each story just seems to steer me toward the final sentence.

TM: Where do you write?

Maggie Veness: I mostly write from my tiny unit, which is in a small seaside village. I’m so lucky, because in the daytime when I get ‘stuck’ or just need to stretch after sitting at the computer for hours, I can cross the road and walk straight onto a quiet section of beach.

The salt wind in my face works like a tonic. But like most writers I also write on planes and trains, and in cafés and coach terminals, and pretty much anywhere else if I’m alone. When I’m driving I often have to scribble a few words on the back of a shopping docket when I stop at a red light. I have scraps of paper everywhere.

TM: What is your biggest pleasure as an author?

Maggie Veness: My top two pleasures as a writer are; connecting with a reader through my words, and holding a brand new print version of a book containing one of my stories. I’m a tactile person. I love the feel and smell of a ‘real’ book. I love to examine the cover and hold it in my hands. The cover of The Bizarre Age issue is fabulous!

TM: What is the best compliment you have ever received regarding your writing?

Maggie Veness: Back in 2010 I was fortunate enough to attend a five day

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writing class tutored by the late Bryce Courtenay.

A few weeks after that course - after he’d read a short story I’d written - he emailed me. Here is an excerpt from that email: ‘Maggie, this is very good, in fact excellent and complete. Well done Sugar Bun!’ It was a massive compliment, and I’ll be forever grateful to Bryce for the confidence boost. Interestingly, I’ve submitted this same story numerous times around the globe, and so far no editor has wanted to publish it. Why? I believe it’s because the story is about the love between two socially unacceptable characters. I guess their unlikely pairing and subsequent sexual relationship is viewed as potentially too discomforting for the majority of readers. The story is beautiful and uncomfortable and sensual all at once. And it will definitely be included in my first collection.

TM: Has writing helped you accept the past and move forward?

Maggie Veness: Definitely. We know that a life rich with experience is a bonus for a writer. I’ll take a thread from some negative experience I’ve had and weave it into the fabric of a story. I create a dilemma then watch and learn from the way my characters deal with it. That process can help you move forward.

TM: What is the biggest obstacle you have ever had to overcome?

Maggie Veness: My biggest personal obstacle was working out how to stay alive after the death of one of my children, who was a passenger in a horror car accident.

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maggie veness new south wales, australia

TM: Do you think it is important for writers to be socially active?

Maggie Veness: To stay socially active is extremely important. It’s unhealthy to sit alone day after day in fantasy-land while the real world turns outside. The rates of a variety of mental illnesses are alarmingly high amongst writers, suggesting a direct link between creativity and psychiatric disorders. Poe, Hemmingway, Tennyson, and Woolf, are just a few of a long list of famous writers said to have suffered a mental illness.

TM: How do you see the future of the Indigenous Australians?

Maggie Veness: In my lifetime I hope to see the original inhabitants of Australia grow healthier and stronger and greater in number, and to eventually be shown the respect they deserve from the rest of us, who are all just decedents of the first boat people.

TM: Are you an optimistic person?

Maggie Veness: Yes, I’m basically optimistic, although periods of low selfesteem and self-doubt can temporarily devour optimism.

TM: When you are not writing, where would we most likely find you?

Maggie Veness: You’ll find me riding my bicycle. I pull on the embarrassing lycra and ride between 100 and 200 kilometres every week. I love it!

TM: you?

Maggie Veness: For various reasons, most forms of social media bother me. I’ll probably give way to pressure and create my own website later this year. In the meantime, anyone with a comment or question for me is welcome to email: maggies_place_@hotmail.com, and please mention Nazar Look in the subject line.

TM: Tell me something about you that your bio does not include.

Maggie Veness: As well as being Bisexual, I was born on the cusp of Taurus and Gemini (the twin). I reckon that gives me five versions of myself to experiment with. I also believe that being Bi gives me the edge when it comes to writing certain scenes, including erotica.

TM: What is your current project?

Maggie Veness: Although I recently had an 18,000 word novella published, my stories are generally between 500 and 3,000 words, so it’s going to take a very large number of quality stories to fill a book! I guess you could say my current project is to continue to produce short stories worthy of publication. Writing well takes a lot of hard work, but for me, not writing would be much harder.

! e i gg

a M l,

Sa

o b w

Where can the readers find

www.nazar-look.com

Nazar Look 25

maggie veness

new south wales, australia

DeVito's Spider

listening to her adorable sleep sounds.

Everything else, and especially his job, became an interruption from their sex. He was

He met her one Saturday night at the

micro-sleeping at his desk between calls and

local jazz bar. Even in a simple white dress she

appointments. His secretary, Jenny, had noticed

was stunning. She had long chestnut hair and

the sudden change in his behaviour. Good sport

womanly curves. When she breezed past with

that she was, she’d ply him with sugary, black

her bare legs and high-heeled sandals, even the

coffee and cover for him when he arrived late for

women followed her with their eyes. She told him

meetings. Everyone was whispering, but they

she’d walked out on her cheating fiancé two

suspected he was secretly undergoing treatment

weeks before and had only ventured out that

for some terrible disease. No-one would ever

night so she didn’t have to feel so alone. It was

have guessed it was about a woman. Not with

the summer of 2006 and she’d taken a room at

those DeVito looks.

the Pyrmondé. He said he was thirty-nine, single, and a bank manager, and very content with his life. Certain she was out of his league – him with his tall Danny DeVito looks – he was blown away when she invited him back to her room. A week later she admitted she could be falling in love with him.

During those early weeks their sex was frenzied and powerful, and would continue for hours. He’d never touched anything so flawlessly female and could not leave her alone. By three or four a.m. she’d plead exhaustion, turn away from him and instantly fall into a deep sleep. In the moonlight he’d flatten his palm and skim it softly over her silky shoulder, down into the dip of her tiny waist, across the bones of her hip and along her thigh, finally tucking his hand into the fold behind her knees – and lay there in awe,

26 Nazar Look

One morning after Jenny found him sleeping at his desk he admitted having a new lady-friend, and said that during their first night together she’d bitten his lip so hard it had drawn blood. Jenny folded her arms and told him she thought part of this woman must have entered his bloodstream and put him into some kind of hypnotic trance.

Three weeks after they’d met he begged her to move in with him, assuring her that his five bed-room house in Rose Bay had always felt too big for one person. Two months after that she fell pregnant with Pippa.

She said, "Rick, my love, if you want me to, I’ll have a termination. Just say." She was hugging her ribs and her eyes were brimming.

She looked so fragile and beautiful that his chest

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maggie veness new south wales, australia

hurt.

*** Shocked, he answered, "Oh, God! Umm,

I don’t think so, Emily. No. Absolutely not! No termination. Come here, Darling." When she buried her face in the warm crook of his neck they were both shaking. ***

This morning when Rick woke and imagined himself arriving home from work, he didn’t recall the sound his keys made when he tossed them into the glass Art Deco bowl on the sideboard, or the scent of strawberry Barbie Bubble Bath wafting through the house, or how luxurious their new carpet felt beneath his tired

Pippa was soft and pink and from the

feet: he only recalled the sight of his waterproof,

moment she figured out how to crawl she

expandable, quad-wheeled suitcases with the

followed him everywhere. For the second time in

platinum trim and quick release handles parked

Rick’s life he was in love. Emily busied herself

in the entryway – and Emily standing behind

with Tennis Club and Coffee Club and all the

them in her emerald-green sun dress, her hands

other social things women love to do, so it was

on her head.

no surprise that it was him Pippa cried out for in the night and him she looked for amongst a crowd of doting parents at swim lessons, or ballet class, or just when she was scrambling around on the play-gym at the park.

One day a few months back, just before Pippa turned five, Emily decided they should take her to Disneyland. She didn’t discuss this

"I want you to leave, immediately."

"What? What on earth? What are you talking about, Darling?"

"Don’t make out you didn’t see this coming, Richard, because I know you bloodywell did. You just chose not to do anything to try to stop it."

with Rick. While Rick was at work and Pippa was

"To stop what? See what coming? I don’t

at day-care, not only did Emily plan their itinerary

understand. Please, Emily, come and sit down so

and book the entire trip, but she purchased a

we can talk and …"

complete new holiday wardrobe plus a set of expensive Italian luggage for all three of them.

When Rick arrived home that evening and she told him what she’d done he was quite taken back, but how could he say no to a woman like Emily?

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"It’s far too late to start talking now. Our marriage is over. And I’m asking you to leave."

"Asking me to … to … look, if this is about the small disagreements we’ve had recently, I mean, is that what this is about? Because all

Nazar Look 27

maggie veness

new south wales, australia married couples have the odd disagreement!"

"Are you actually saying you had no idea

neighbours something to talk about? Your choice."

our relationship was floundering? Have you not

When Emily produced her mobile phone,

noticed how distressed I’ve been? Is that true?

Richard wheeled away the sum of six years of

Absolutely no idea?"

his life in two Italian suitcases and moved into a

"Umm, if you mean your PMS and not wanting to sleep with me, well, I’ve never complained, have I? Like you said, these hormone-related

things

eventually

ground floor beachside rental twenty minutes away.

That was four weeks ago.

right

***

themselves. Remember?"

"Unbelievable. If that’s all you think is

The early light was leaking in from

wrong I feel very, very sorry for you Richard

between the verticals. Richard had dragged a

because you’re even thicker than I thought."

single bed into the lounge-room so he could

"Okay, yes, I’m thick, I must be! There, I completely agree with you. But you’re my wife.

You must know how much I love you. Obviously we’ve got a lot to discuss …"

"Shut-up and pay attention, Richard, for God’s sake!"

"Where’s Pippa?"

"Oh, here we go. PippaPippaPippa."

"Where is she?"

"She’s on a sleep-over with my mother.

And I haven’t told her anything yet. You can ring her tomorrow night. Right now I just want you to leave. Are you listening? Because, I could call my solicitor, and after that if you were still here I’d be forced to call the Police and have you escorted from the property. Want to give the

28 Nazar Look

always see the ocean. He’d thrown down half a bottle of neat vodka the evening before and the crumpled sheets were damp from another round of night sweats. After working out it was Sunday he rolled out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom for a piss, then went to the kitchen, half filled a mug with the dregs of yesterday’s plunger coffee and waited by the microwave while it heated.

After drawing back the blinds he sat on the bed sipping coffee, staring out across the glassy ocean at the horizon. His skin felt tender and his eye-balls hurt. He counted seven seagulls perched on the balcony handrail; four had turned toward him to watch the show, hopeful of some handouts. It was then he saw that one of the gulls was missing half of one leg,

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maggie veness new south wales, australia

and when he noticed a few centimeters of fishing line dangling from the tiny, withered stump, he barely made it to the bathroom before hurling.

He stripped off and stood beneath a steaming hot shower. Sundays between ten a.m. and six p.m. were his and Pippa’s, and last Sunday when he’d dropped her home she’d made him promise to take her to the Jungle Bungle Playhouse next time. He was standing there thinking about how excited she’d be and how much he missed her and Emily, when his mobile rang. He turned the water off, dug his phone out from the pocket of his track-pants, and cleared his raw throat.

"Richard speaking," he croaked.

"Hello Daddy."

"Well hello! And how is my favourite girl?"

"Good, Daddy."

"I miss you very much, in fact I was just thinking about how much fun we’re gonna have today at the Jungle Bungle," he said, leaning his forehead against the cool, white tiles.

"But, okay, let me see. Would it be the Aqua-slide?"

"No. Better than that!"

"Must be to the new skate park or somewhere like that. But I’ll take you there, or anywhere you like, Pip, because today’s Sunday and Sundays are meant to be the day we get to hang out together."

"You didn’t guess right because it’s the real biggest Circus ever and it’s got a huge tent and elephants and lions and dancing horses and these little dogs with dresses on doing tricks and ev-ry-thing!"

"Wow. Okay. I guess that does sound pretty special. I hope Daddy doesn’t have to wait another whole week to see you," he said, and felt his eyes sting.

"And we’ve gotta leave right now because we have to drive for three hours and Graham is already here to pick us up."

"Graham?"

"That’s our new friend who gave me and

"But I can’t come today and that’s why

Mummy the hugest box of chocolates to share

Mummy said to call you because I’m already

and I’m allowed to take all my best movies and

going somewhere else and it’s gonna be very

play them in the back of his new red car."

very good fun and do you want to guess where I’m going Daddy?"

"Oh. But … what about ..."

"Guess!"

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In the background he heard Emily clap her hands three times. She’d always done that when she wanted Pippa to stop doing something.

"Bye Daddy."

Nazar Look 29

maggie veness

new south wales, australia

She’d hung up before he could even say

fiancé story. Apart from what she’d told him that

good-bye. He started hurling again but this time

night

he was sobbing as well, which forced stomach

engagement again. She hadn’t discussed her

acid through his nose.

past with him at all, and he hadn’t dared ask ***

Late that afternoon Richard woke to the sound of a savage wind rattling the windows and

she’d

never

spoken

of

her

broken

questions. He thought about the dynamite sex they’d had in those early weeks, and how quickly she’d fallen pregnant after moving into his house.

doors. Storm clouds had gathered and darkened

He’d never thought this way about her

the room. He pulled himself up onto one elbow.

before. He tapped one fist against his forehead.

Everything was different but the same. He rolled

Just like the clever spider above his head, Emily

off the bed, pulled on his track-suit, propped the

had spun a perfect web and would never go

balcony doors open and padded out to look at

hungry. Wasn’t he highly educated? Wasn’t he

the sea. It was black and seething. Six steps

the manager of a bank? Hadn’t he owned a

down and he was wandering barefoot across the

million-dollar home on the North Shore by age

sandy grass. He stood in the wind for a minute

thirty-five? "Dumb-arse idiot," he said. "You

staring at the white-caps, thinking. But thinking

dumb-arse idiot!"

just made him tearful again so he went up the steps and back inside, and leaving the balcony doors open, stripped off and stretched out on his bed.

Realising the sheer scale of his own stupidity deserved a special celebration. He found a pack of chicken flavoured crackers and ate those between slugs of Vodka. He even

He noticed a spider in the corner of the ceiling above his head, patiently waiting for its delicate, sticky web to provide a meal. After studying the spider for some time he found himself revisiting the night he’d met Emily. He could still see her in that white dress. Everyone there knew she could have chosen any man she wanted, so, why had a stunning woman like her taken an ordinary guy like him into her bed on their first meeting? He went over her cheating

30 Nazar Look

remembered to set his alarm for work before he passed out.

He was dreaming. It was fantastic. Emily was next to him with her head nestled in the crook of his neck, the length of her beautiful, naked body pressed against him. He was aching for her. It had been such a long time. He felt a warm, smooth hand gliding over his chest, then his stomach, then an even warmer, wet mouth doing things she’d never done before, which was

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maggie veness new south wales, australia

when he realised it wasn’t Emily and he wasn’t

"Well, that was the nicest thing that’s

dreaming. He opened his eyes and reached

happened to me in a very long time. No apology

down to grab two handfuls of short-cropped, fair

required."

hair. In the moonlight he watched Jenny quickly move up to straddle him and begin pounding away. He moaned as her Lilly-white breasts

"Okay. Thanks. I don’t know what got into me. Oh my God. Am I gonna feel incredibly embarrassed at work now!"

bounced above him, and grabbed for her hips.

They climaxed noisily. She rolled straight off to lie beside him on her back.

"Look, we’re both adults. Both single.

You are single, Jenny, aren’t you?"

"Of course I am!"

Breathlessly, she said, "I knocked. You

"Good."

didn’t answer. The doors were wide open."

"You need a shave and your sheets

"Jesus."

"I bought you a beef casserole."

"Jesus."

"Do you want me to go?"

"I don’t think so," he said, "Just let me think."

stink."

"Sorry. You know, we’ve worked together for what, five or six years? And I hardly know a thing about you. That’s terrible. Will you tell me about yourself?"

"Well, okay. But only if you promise to try

No-one said anything for a while. A cold breeze was blowing in through the open doors straight over them and he noticed that Jenny was shivering. He reached over and grabbed the sheet off the floor.

"Come here and warm up," he said, and lifted his arm. She nestled her head into the crook of his neck.

some of my home cooking. Deal?"

"You mean to say you really did bring me a casserole? You didn’t just drop by to take advantage of my fantastic body?" he said. And after Jenny jabbed him in the ribs they both started laughing. ***

"I apologize. I took advantage. It’s just, well, I’ve always liked you. I mean really liked you. And, you’ve been so sad and pathetic and I’ve been worried about you and everything."

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Nazar Look 31

baki

(1526 – 1600)

Ah My Dear I have bowed down since time began to passion's Shah, my dear.

Love's legendary sultanate obeys our law, my dear.

The grief-scorched heart lies red and black: a poppy in the wasteland.

Rain like a bounteous cloud and slake the parched heart's shaw, my dear.

Fate saw the jewel in me, and pawed the heart apart to have it, Leaving a bleeding body mined of love and raw, my dear.

Do not let turbid sadness taint the waters of your fountain.

All faces gleam for us, the Ottoman world's awe, my dear.

Bâkî's turned verse goes round the world: a wine-bowl among friends.

Time turns to us to fill its cup. What wines we draw, my dear!

(Translated by A.Z. Foreman)

32 Nazar Look

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nichita stanescu

(1933 - 1983)

Knot 19 Be well aware that I can kill, That I with one stroke of my heel can maul The peaceable rising star's sweet head.

It's why I have become a painter of walls.

Be well aware that I have no mercy on me That I merge my blood with birches everywhere.

I bring this with all haste through to your awareness: Beware what you do.

(Translated by A.Z. Foreman)

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Nazar Look 33

bhadauria manish singh

gujarat, india

34 Nazar Look

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bhadauria manish singh

gujarat, india

Fragile Promises Few broken promises are meeting at an old place, that familiar corner of their youthful days.

Their parallel world and all romantic plays, peeping in through some new and alien ways.

Dehydrated roses among hidden letters, drenched the fragile leaves of that diary.

All those fights and passionate braces, staring them through their wrinkled faces.

Arms rose high for that usual and warm hug, but ended at hand shake; and offering coffee mug.

Those ageing eyes behind the bars of glass; are now conscious and aware of surrounding mass.

Lips once so open now waits for initiative, to break the silent which echoes through vacuum year.

They move at last without moisture and some fear; to get noticed by some known to their close and dears Disobeying hearts asks urgent legs to stop for a while, still some color is left in this life coated white.

When words get hard to find; it is silence that binds, Lips are pressed, eyes are wet; may be this is called fate?

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Nazar Look 35

Cocoons A strong breeze came from the forest of memories, and brought few cocoons out of it deep dark breasts.

Silken threads are forced to open by creepers of alienation they opened like Lord’s mouth displaying my whole galaxy Here dreams are falling like shooting stars, leaving celestial bleeding through bright scars.

Face that has gone away stares me through full moon and eyes read those moments, through wrinkles on some pages.

A nameless pain penetrates piercing my namesake, happiness flies away like baby bird from the nest, weakness floats inside my abled body, tears came in tide but gets lost in ebbs of organic smiles.

36 Nazar Look

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Kozalar Kuwetlí bír şemalkelíp tezkire tawundan bírkaş koza akeldí deren karañgî kókíreklerínden Yúpek ğípler aştîra yabanğîlaştîrma saplarî Alla’nîñ awuzî gibí aşîldîlar bútún yîldîz kuruluşumnî kósteríp.

Túşler awma yîldîzlarday awa artînda kók kanamasî bîrakîp aydîn ğara ízlerínden. Ğok bolîp ketken yúz karay maga tolînaydan Kózler de okîy şo anlarnî bírkaş sîrlî sayîfalardan.

Atamasîz bír ğan ağîsî ótíp geşer teşíp óz atîmnî, dewlet úşup keter kuş balasîday yuwasîndan, tekmíl kewdemníñ íşínde meğalsîzlîk yúzer, kózyaşlarî deñíz kelímídiy ósíp ketímídiy kúlúmsúrewlerníñ arasîna kayîp bolalar.

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Nazar Look 37

edmund spencer Travels in Circassia, Krim Tartary, &c. (X)

communicate with each other; and when a river intervenes, they are built on pontoons. Those in the mountain districts, being hewn out of the rock, are most formidable; and as they are frequently

hid

from

observation

by

embankments, or shaded by foliage, they become a fatal ambuscade against an invading army.

The

whole

of

the

cordon

militaire

Each

of

these

guard-houses

are

sufficiently large to contain twelve men; this

contains seventeen regiments of infantry, one of

number,

hussars, and a battalion of marines, who are

circumstances, as we find them only guarded at

employed in the armed boats on the rivers.

present by four men and a sentinel.

however,

varies

according

to

Each regiment, in time of peace, consists only Behind this chain are the guard-houses

of two battalions, or twelve companies, the half constantly

of the officers, furnished with alarm-bells, &c.;

occupied in guarding the frontiers; but when

by which means, in cases of extreme danger,

the plague makes its appearance in the Turkish

the inhabitants of the whole line of this

provinces, their numbers are increased to

immense frontier can be assembled under arms

seven, or even ten thousand: and in cases of

in less than four hours. No traveller is permitted

emergency, such as when an invading army

to cross the line without applying to the nearest

threatens to cross the frontiers, they can bring

military station; and during the prevalence of

into the field upwards of thirty-three thousand

the plague, or in time of war, he is liable to be

well-disciplined troops. Each regiment elects its

shot by the nearest sentinel, if he does not

own colonel, who unites with his military

immediately reply to the challenge, by standing

authority that of a civil magistrate. Every two

still,

regiments

interrogatories.

of

which

(five

are

thousand)

are

commanded

by

a

brigadiergeneral; and every two brigades by what the Austrians term a general commando, of whom there are four, stationed in various districts on the line of frontier, and acting under the immediate orders of the minister of war at Vienna.

and

answering

the

customary

This very interesting district, which only twenty years since was regarded by the officers sent thither as a sort of transportation, presents at the present day so improved an aspect, that the traveller, in passing through this part of the Austrian empire, never fails to congratulate

Along the whole line a range of guard-

himself on entering the country included in the

houses have been erected, sufficiently near to

military cordon: he finds not only the roads well kept, and frequently planted with fruit-trees, but

38 Nazar Look

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edmund spencer good inns, the towns and villages better built,

people is German, yet they are, with few

with public promenades for the amusement of

exceptions,

the people, who he sees on Sundays and

Wallachians, and Hungarians, intermingled with

holidays dressed in their finery, and dancing to

Greeks, Germans, Jews, and Gipsies, each

the merry sounds of the violin and the bagpipe.

retaining their peculiar costume and language.

Their fields are also in a better state of

In that part of the military Banate of Hungary

cultivation, and the little picturesque cottages of

and Sclavonia through which we now travelled,

the peasants, surrounded by their blooming

the colour of the dress of the inhabitants was

gardens, at once breathe an air of comfort and

indeed most varied. By the side of the well-fed

independence; for no exacting hand of the

Austrian, attired according to the latest Vienna

seigneur is felt here, nor yet of the insatiable

fashions, were to be seen the peasants decked

tax-gatherer, to rob the peasant of the produce

with all the colours of the rainbow, not

of his labour.

excepting even the stockings of the women,

These military peasants live in a state of the most patriarchal simplicity; for we often find several

generations,

amounting

in

some

instances even to seventy persons, residing

colonies

of

Sclavonians,

which here invariably tell us whether the fair one is maid, wife, or widow: white being always worn by the first, red by the second, and blue by the last.

amicably beneath the same roof In some

This people, having been exposed for

instances, families united by consanguinity form

centuries to the inroads of their predatory

themselves

their

neighbours, scarcely ever leave home, either on

common labour to the cultivation of the soil, and

military duty or any other occasion, without

divide the produce in equal shares; they also

being well-armed; and not unfrequently we see

generally elect the man whose conduct is the

the very women, Amazon-like, with a brace of

most exemplary as a sort of chief, who, in such

pistols in their girdles, to say nothing of the

domestic dissensions as may arise between

poniard, which they never part with. The

them, fulfils the office of judge. Whenever these

appearance of the men was indeed most

sort of communities are established, each

warlike, and imparted quite a novel aspect to

provides its own soldiers from the common

the landscape, as we beheld them from the

fund,

while

deck of our steamer, enveloped in the folds of

performing military duty, which is by no means

their scarlet capuchins and mantles, striding

severe, as it only occupies one-third of their

through the deep valleys, or climbing up the

time,

steep mountains, with their long guns slung

with

the

into

communities,

uniforms

remainder

and

being

devote

rations

reserved

for

agricultural labour, &c.

Although the military language of these

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across the shoulder. (to be continued)

Nazar Look 39

40 Nazar Look

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Photoshop: Unruffled Surface of River in Crimean Mountain Forests