ELSEWHERE ….

Why do I write for peace … Souces of Inspiration

*Appeared in Poetry In The Arts, Inc. (Texas, USA)

Newsletter No. 23, January 2001

Editor & Interviewer: Peggy Zuleika Lynch

I have seen the glass of peace being smashed into pieces when I was growing up in India. My family did not know if there would be another dawn and when there was, it brought horrific tales of more brutalities. I have seen old people running for help and being pelted with bricks and then burnt alive while the patrolling police ignore the clusters of misguided zealots; I have perceived death dancing in the eyes of minorities; I have heard the cries of infants; I have read about the butchery of the innocent. Both the Hindus and Muslims were engaged in this ugliness for religious reasons. Mahatama Gandhi was assassinated because he tried to end this drama of degradation to humanity. It is the pain of these wounds that I carry with me no matter where I go. I have struggled to catch a glimpse of that pain in the preface to Shrine, a collection of my poems of social concerns. That pain is still alive in the caves of my arteries and comes to life as a ghost any time, particularly when it is night.

The compelling influence for my crusade is peace-- the peace that is beauty-- the peace that is creative-- the peace that makes life meaningful. Canada to me provides a blueprint for this peace.

*The Atlantic Literary Review, July-Sep. &

Oct.-Dec. 2004, Vol 5, No. 3-4, pages 164-183

Interview with Prof. Dr. J. Sarangi

I can speak the same languages that I used to speak in Pakistan and then in India and I enjoy the same food as much as my children do. In Canada and the United States I have good friends who were born in India and Pakistan. A part of me is in the country where the bones of my ancestors have been buried; where I first opened my eyes; where I learnt to read and write; where my dear ones are still living; and where I still have my closest friends. To offer the flowers of my homage at the altar of the temple of that part, I take my poetic voyages also in the boat of the languages that I used during the early years of my life. That part spurs me to visit India more often and to keep close contacts particularly with its writers.

At the same time I believe that home is where our feet are. I also believe that our feet are in a home that encompasses safety and happiness. A home is also the evening fireside that provides warmth and cosiness. Wherever these components habitat there habitats the heart. I see these components habitating in the rainbow beauty of Canada. Here I walk under a roof of assurances for my safety and freedoms. Wherever I go, I wear a hat that is textured with the ethnic touches of the mosaic nature of Canada. This hat is neither entirely South Asian nor entirely North American. It gives me protection, though at times it hurts a nerve.