saharimdad

[saharimdad]

سورٺ ابڙو جي جدوجھد

اسان جي ھن نیاڻي سورٺ مظھر ابڙو علم جي راھہ ۾ ڪیل پنھنجي جدوجھد ۽ “ مقصدجي حاصلات” لاءِ ڪیل جدوجھد جو بیان ڪیڏي سادن سودن لفظن ۽ اتساھیندڙ انداز ۾ ڪیو - ان لاءِ ھن سسئيءَ جي جدوجھد ۽ سھڻيءَ جي “مئي متي مھراڻ “ ۾ “گھاگھائي گھڙڻ” جي دل ڇُھندڙ مثالي ڳالھہ ڪئي - ان لاءِ ھن چیو تہ شاھہ سائینءَ کي پڙھو۔ شاھہ سائین “عمل ۽ اُتساھہ” جو شاعر آھي ، ھو اسان کي محنت ۽ جدوجھد تي آڀاري ٿو ۽ لاڳیتي محنت ڪرڻ جو جذبو جاڳائي ٿو ۔ ھو اسان کي آس ۽ امید ڏي ٿو ۔ نراسائي hopelessness کان بچائي ٿو ۔ ھڪ بنھہ ننڍڙي ڳوٺ جي نیاڻي ایم اي انگلش ۾ ڪري ، PSCS جو امتحان پاس ڪري اسسٽنٽ ڪمشنر ٿیڻ وڃي پئي ۽ اوھان شیڪسپیئر بدران ھڪڙي پنھنجي ئي ڏاھي عالم فلسفي شاعر شاھہ سائین ۽ جي بیتن ذریعي سَوَلِي سمجھاڻي ڏیئي سگھي ٿي - جیڪا سندس ڏاھپ جو ڏس ڏي ٿي- ھتي آءُُ بہ شاھہ سائینءَ جو ھڪ بیت ڏیڻ چاھیندیس:

“تَتَيِءَ ٿڌيءَ ڪاھہ ، ڪانھي ویل وِھڻ جي

متان ٿئي اونداھہِ پیر نہ لھین پرینءَ جو

— ڊاڪٽر سحر امداد شاھہ

25 Jan 2022

[saharimdad]

سورٺ ابڙو جي جدوجھد

اسان جي ھن نیاڻي سورٺ مظھر ابڙو علم جي راھہ ۾ ڪیل پنھنجي جدوجھد ۽ “ مقصدجي حاصلات” لاءِ ڪیل جدوجھد جو بیان ڪیڏي سادن سودن لفظن ۽ اتساھیندڙ انداز ۾ ڪیو - ان لاءِ ھن سسئيءَ جي جدوجھد ۽ سھڻيءَ جي “مئي متي مھراڻ “ ۾ “گھاگھائي گھڙڻ” جي دل ڇُھندڙ مثالي ڳالھہ ڪئي - ان لاءِ ھن چیو تہ شاھہ سائینءَ کي پڙھو۔ شاھہ سائین “عمل ۽ اُتساھہ” جو شاعر آھي ، ھو اسان کي محنت ۽ جدوجھد تي آڀاري ٿو ۽ لاڳیتي محنت ڪرڻ جو جذبو جاڳائي ٿو ۔ ھو اسان کي آس ۽ امید ڏي ٿو ۔ نراسائي hopelessness کان بچائي ٿو ۔ ھڪ بنھہ ننڍڙي ڳوٺ جي نیاڻي ایم اي انگلش ۾ ڪري ، PSCS جو امتحان پاس ڪري اسسٽنٽ ڪمشنر ٿیڻ وڃي پئي ۽ اوھان شیڪسپیئر بدران ھڪڙي پنھنجي ئي ڏاھي عالم فلسفي شاعر شاھہ سائین ۽ جي بیتن ذریعي سَوَلِي سمجھاڻي ڏیئي سگھي ٿي - جیڪا سندس ڏاھپ جو ڏس ڏي ٿي- ھتي آءُُ بہ شاھہ سائینءَ جو ھڪ بیت ڏیڻ چاھیندیس:

“تَتَيِءَ ٿڌيءَ ڪاھہ ، ڪانھي ویل وِھڻ جي

متان ٿئي اونداھہِ پیر نہ لھین پرینءَ جو

— ڊاڪٽر سحر امداد شاھہ

25 Jan 2022

[saharimdad]

ڪیڏو پراڻو، سھڻو، وڏو وڻ !

اھي ھزارین سال پراڻا وڻ ڪنھن قوم، ان جي تاریخ ۽ سڀیتا جا جیئرا جاڳندا اھڃاڻ آھن💚💙

ڪراچيءَ جي روڊن جي پاسي، پراڻن بنگلن ۾ ۽ قدیم پارڪن ۾ جیئرا بیٺل پِپِر جا وڻ گھٽ ۾ گھٽ ٻہ سؤ پوڻا ٻہ سو سال 175-200 سال پُراڻا آھن ۔ جن جا پن ۽ مٿان لڙڪیل پاڙون ۔ چوویھہ ڪلاڪ وھندڙ ٽرئفڪ جي ڪري ڪاربن سان ڪاریون آھن ۔ پر اُھي ان حال ۾ بہ اڃا جیئرا آھن - اھي اسان جي ڏیڍ ٻہ سو سالن جي تاریخ جا امین آھن ۔ انھن جو خیال رکڻ - انھن کي سر سبز ۽ شاداب رکڻ ڪنھن جي ذمیواري آھي؟ ڇا اھا Tree Plantation وارن جي ذمیواري ؟ یا Horticulture وارن جي ذمیواري آھي؟ یا آسي پاسي رھندڙن جي ذمیواري آھي؟ Climate Change جي اشو تي دنیا کان ڊونیشن وٺڻ وارن جي ذمیواري آھي؟ سنڌ سرڪار جي ذمیواري آھي؟ یا وري مرڪزي سرڪار جي ذمیواري آھي؟ جیڪا ڪروڙین نوان وڻ لڳائڻ جي لاءِ مال میڙي ٿي ، پر سوین سال پراڻن وڻن کي مرڻ لاءِ ماحول جي گدلاڻ جي حوالي ڪري ڇڏي ٿي۔ آھي وڻ اسان جو سرمایو آھن ، انھن جي پرگھور لھو - انھن کي بچایو!

Save The Old Trees in Karachi 🌹

[saharimdad]

"Niani Pardhe!"

When a girl in Benin is taunted for ‘a girl in school’ she makes a word ‘Batonga’ to describe the empowerment education gave her. In Sindh we have to work with same spirit for girls education like “Batonga Foundation” did in Africa. In Sindh parents normally thought “if a girl go to school, what will she get?” Nothing!

Going to school only prevents her from labor for the family or getting married. So its necessary to give incentive to the parents, as they allow their girls to get education. In Ethiopia, a United Nations Foundation Girl Fund Program gives 25$ and a goat or a sheep to the family who allows their teen age daughters to attend school and keep them unmarried for at least two years.

In rural areas of Sindh girls are sold like goats, we have to address it, not through police harassment, not through courts, not through media coverage, but through a UNO funded program as shown above. “Niani Pardhe!” is a slogan for girls education in Sindh. Because an educated girl makes society strong, healthy and vivacious, engages her in civil activities and grow up as a very responsible civilian and send their siblings to school, that will have a ripple effect.

[saharimdad]

"Niani Pardhe!"

When a girl in Benin is taunted for ‘a girl in school’ she makes a word 'Batonga’ to describe the empowerment education gave her. In Sindh we have to work with same spirit for girls education like “Batonga Foundation” did in Africa. In Sindh parents normally thought “if a girl go to school, what will she get?” Nothing!

Going to school only prevents her from labor for the family or getting married. So its necessary to give incentive to the parents, as they allow their girls to get education. In Ethiopia, a United Nations Foundation Girl Fund Program gives 25$ and a goat or a sheep to the family who allows their teen age daughters to attend school and keep them unmarried for at least two years.

In rural areas of Sindh girls are sold like goats, we have to address it, not through police harassment, not through courts, not through media coverage, but through a UNO funded program as shown above. “Niani Pardhe!” is a slogan for girls education in Sindh. Because an educated girl makes society strong, healthy and vivacious, engages her in civil activities and grow up as a very responsible civilian and send their siblings to school, that will have a ripple effect.

[saharimdad]

Hazrat Shah Abdul Latif Bhittai - notes

* He was born in 1690 & died in 1752.

* Belongs to a notable Sayyed family of Mattiaree(mutaalvi sadaat).

* His father Shah Habib was also a poet.

* Great Saint-Poet Shah Karim Bulrai was his great grand father. A contemporary of Bhagat Kabir.

* Shah Latif was fifty years old when Nadir Shah sacked Delhi & made Sindh tributary to Persia.

* He was fifty eight when Ahmed Shah Durrani captured Delhi & founded modern Afghanistan & made Sindh subject to Kabul.

* Six years after his death second East India Company’s factory was established at Thatta.

* He is one of the greatest poet of globe(world).

*  He produced a very considerable quantity of poetry : called Shah jo Risalo.

* He was not active against stirring political events. He lived a secluded life as a Sufi-Saint- Poet at Bhit.

* But he wrote intensely, deeply , symbolically about the tyranny of the time.

* His melodious & embalming poetry contains enormous layers of wisdom and aesthetic pleasure.

* The divine message of his poetry emerges as it was sung.

* Poetic truth in his poetry stimulates emotional level of hearer, and that’s the power & appeal of the poetry.

* All from Beloved’s side is sweet  پريان  سندي  پار  جي  مڙئي  مٺائي

What ever He gives to you       ڪانهي ڪڙائي چکين جي چيت ڪري

There is no bitter, if you knew

the secret how to taste .

* As a young boy he was very different from the rest:

Fond of loneliness.

Loved to wander.

Contemplative & thoughtful.

* He was a gentleman with manners & speech.

* Kind, compassionate, generous.

* As a worthy person with a charismatic persona he intensely appeals to the downtrodden people.

* He has an enormous message of Peace and tranquility for whole Universe:

On my Sindh aye shed water, O! Lord,

And plenty, Mercy’s self, accord .    

Make this whole world to burgeon with thy grace of rainy deeds.

*         سائين سدائين، ڪرين مٿي سنڌ سۡـڪار دوست مٺا دلدار،عالم سڀ آباد ڪرين

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Today is Your Day! Sahar Shah

Today is Your Day ,  O’ Woman!

Today You must Speak Words of Steel,

Fold Your Fingers and Make an Iron Fist,

And Sing a Song that Never Dies,

Today is Your Day , O’ Woman!

Cast Your Weaknesses in an Alloy,

Fill your Eyes with Hope of a Rising Sun,

O! Brave , Beautiful and Bold Lady!

Shah Latif Sing Your Songs Centuries ago:

Though Mountains Block Your Path ,

Do Not Buckle Under Menacing Death ,

Though the Path is Grueling and

The Night is Bleak!

Though Pigs might Tear Your Flesh ,

Do Not Retract Your Bleeding Tracks ,

Keep on Marching , Keep on Marching ,

With Your Eyes on Horizon!

Today is Your Day O’ Woman!

Today You Must Speak Words of Steel!

[saharimdad]

A Tribute to Dr. Nabi Bux Khan Baloch by Dr. Sahar Imdad Hussaini

I shall pass through this world but once;

Any good that I can give to my fellow beings,

Let me do it now;

Now; for I shall not pass this way again!

    Today we are gathered here to pay tribute to Dr. Nabi Bux Khan Baloch.

    Today my heart weeps for Dr. Baloch - an Icon of Sindhi nation; a renowned educationist - who dedicated his whole life for elevation of education, an acclaimed scholar , a linguist , a Latif Shanas , and what not! He was an “ameen” of Indus Valley Civilization.

    Dr. Baloch sang songs of that Sindh , which respects its elders, which loves its children, which gives water to a thirsty and bread to a hungry, which equally cares birds and animals; he is a genuine Sindhi by heart! We are lucky enough that we are living in an era ; which is Dr. Baloch’s era.

   Dr. N. A. Baloch very enthusiastically collected volumes of Sindh’s history of wisdom, bulk of precious pearls of imagination, Sindh has an enormous collection of its Folklore. Sindh is one of the richest nation of the world which has huge folk heritage.

Dr. Baloch compiled 42 volumes of Sindh’s folklore under “Lok Adab Scheme”. And still a hundred thousand stories,tales, fables, folk songs, Geech, Ggia, Ggaatha’s are buried in the hearts of Sindhi people. So, we need many Dr. Balochs to extract that from the hearts of people. And no doubt he was many in one. A beautiful mind does not age and in fact can become ever more beautiful.

   Its our utmost duty to pay respect to these beautiful minds!

(12th April , 2011 - Jamshoro, Sindh)

[saharimdad]

ڊاڪٽر سحر امداد شاھہ

یاد جي ورِي آ وِیر!

شاھہ عبداللطیف انٽرنیشنل ڪانفرنس جي افتتاحي اجلاس ۾ منھنجو ‘ڪِي نوٽ’ پیپر ھو - سنڌيءَ ۾ ۔ ان ڪانفرنس جي افتتاحي سیشن میں انگلش ۽ اردوءَ پڻ پیپر ھئا - ڪانفرنس ھلندي اوچتو تاج جویي اسٽیج تي وڃي ڊاڪٽر الانا جي ڪن ۾ ڪجھ چیو - ۽ منھنجي ڇھین حس مون کي الرٽ ڪیو تہ ھو منھنجي پیپر روڪائڻ لاءِ ڪا سازش سِٽي رھیو آھي ۽ ان لاءِ ئي ھو الانا صاحب کي تیار ڪري پیو ۔ مون پنھنجو پاڻ کي اھو ٻڌڻ لاءِ مینٽلي تیار ڪري ورتو ۽ ایگزیڪٽلي ائین ئي ٿیو - ھو آیو ۽ مون کي چیائین : “ٽائیم جي ڪمي جي ڪري توھان جو پیپر ڊراپ ڪجي ٿو “ ! ٿوري دیر کان پوءِ الانا صاحب تاج کي وري سڏیو ۽ وري بہ انھن ڪنن ۾ ڪجھ ڳالھایو - ۽ جھٽ رکي تاج جویو وري مون وٽ آیو ۽ چیائین :- “ توھان پیپر پڙھجو ۰ الانا صاب چئي ٿو تہ سڀاڻي اخبارون ان تي تنقید ڪندیون تہ شاھہ عبداللطیف ڀٽائي ڪانفرنس ۾ سنڌيءَ ۾ پیپر ڪونہ پڙھیو ویو ۔” معنيٰ منھنجو پیپر محض ان ھڪڙي ڳالھہ جي ڪري بچي ویو تہ اخبارون مٿن تنقید ڪندیون ۔مون وڏي محنت سان پیپر لکیو ھو، سو ماڻھن ڏاڍي ڌیان سان پیپر ٻڌو - ۽ پیپر جي گھڻي ساراھہ ڪیائون - ۽ ڪانفرنس جا چار ئي ڏینھن مختلف ڊیلیگیٽس کان آءُٗ ساراھہ میڙیندي رھیس ۔ ٻئي ڏینھن صبح جو پھرئین سیشن اٽینڊ ڪرڻ لاءِ آءُٗ پھتس ، تہ تون منھنجي پاسي ۾ اچي ویٺئین ۽ سخت ڪاوڙ ۾ چیئي: “ توھان اڄوڪي ڪاوش پڙھي آھي؟”چیم : “نہ ڇو ؟” “اوھان جو ایڏو بھترین پیپر ھو - اخبار ۾ اوھان جو نالو ئي ڪونہ ڏنو اٿن “۔ ٿورو پرڀرو ڪاوش جو نمائندو ویٺو ھو، ان ڏانھن اشارو ڪري چیئي : “ اھو ڪاوش جو نمائندو ویٺو آھي - ھن سان جھیڙو ڪریو تہ ڇو منھنجو نالو ڪو نہ ڏنو اٿئي؟ علي قاضيءَ کي فون ڪریو ، ھن کي بہ چئو تہ ۔” مون ان ڇوڪري ڏانھن ڏٺو، اسان جو اسٽوڊنٽ ھو، غریب مِسڪین ! — الاءِ جي تہ ڪنھن جي ونگار وَھیو! مون توکي آٿت ڏیڻ ۽ ٿڌي ڪرڻ جي ڪوشش ڪئي : “ ھُن خبر ۾ منھنجو نالو نہ ڏیئي ھُن ثابت ڪیو تہ، ھو انڌو ھو، ھُن مون کي پیپر پڙھندي ڏٺو ڪونہ! ھُن ثابت ڪیو تہ ھُو ٻوڙو ھو، ھُن مون کي ٻڌو ڪونہ ! تہ آءُٗ اھو ڇو ثابت ڪریان تہ ھُو نڪو ٻوڙو ھو ۽ نہ انڌو ! ھُو غریبڙو ، مِسڪینڙو چند ٽڪن لاءِ ڪنھن سازشي شخص جي ونگار وھي ویو۔ ھو بنھہ ڪو دٻو آھي - ھُن کي اھا خبر ڪونھي تہ ڪالھہ ھن پنڊال ۾ جن چار پنج سو ماڻھن مون کي ٻڌو ۽ جن منھنجي پیپر جي ساراھہ ڪئي ۽ جیڪي ساراھہ مان ڍاپیا ئي ڪونہ پئي - اُنھن مان جیڪي بہ ماڻھو اڄوڪي اخبار پڙھندا، سي خبر ۾ سڀ کان شاندار مقالو پڙھندڙ جو نالو نہ ڏسي اچرج ۾ پئجي ویندا ۽ کین یقین ٿي ویندو تہ اخبارون ڪُوڙ لکندیون آھن! ان اخبار جي پنھنجي ریپُوٽیشن جو سوال آھي منھنجي نالي اچڻ یا نہ اچڻ جو سوال ناھي! مون لاءِ ان پنڊال ۾ ویٺل ماڻھن ، منھنجن ٻڌندڙن جو رایو ۽ عزت وڌیڪ اھم آھي!”ڪالھہ ایڪویھہ ڊسمبر ٻہ ھزار ایڪویھہ ۾ صرف ویھن ایڪویھن سالن کان پوءِ تاریخ پنھنجو پاڻ کي دُھرایو - سو، بہ تنھنجي ئي ھٿان ! تنھنجي پُزور فرمائش تي آءُٗ ڪراچيءَ کان ڪھي آیس پنھنجو مقالو پڙھڻ ، جنھن کي تو پاڻ لکیو ھو : “ مقالا خصوصي “ — سو پڙھیم — ۽ اڄ افتتاحي اجلاس جي 101 تصویرن ۾ اردو ۾ ‘ڪِینوٽ ‘ پیپر پڙھندڙ حارث خلیق جي تصویر تہ ھئي پر سنڌيءَ ۾ ھڪ شاندار مقالو ( خاص مقالو) پڙھندڙ جي تصویر نہ ھئي - ( آجیاڻي جي نالي ۾ اینگھ ڪندڙ ھمراہ جون بہ گھڻیون ئي تصویرون ھیون ۽ سڀ کان گھڻیون تصویرون ھیون پیاري ذھین ترین حور جون)۽ ساڳي شام جو شیئر ڪیل اخبار ۾ پڻ منھنجو نالو گُم ھو ! مون کي اڄ کان ویھہ ٻاویھہ سالاڳ جو اھو ڏینھن یاد اچي ویو جڏھن اخبار ۽ ان جي خاطُو جي انسلٽنگ رویئي تي تو پروٽسٽ پئي ڪیو — ۽ اڄ اھو سڀ خود تنھجي ھٿان مون سان ٿیو ! خود تنھنجي ئي پروگرام ۾ ! پر بہ اھو سڀ تنھنجو ئي ڪیل ھو؟ یا تنھنجي ڪامجبوري ھئي ؟ یا توکان ڪرایو ویو ھو!!

December 22, 2021

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from To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee

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"Malice and Desperation in the Grand Canyon" by Kristopher Jansma

Vol. 11, No. 1

EDITOR’S NOTE

Kristopher Jansma’s debut novel The Unchangeable Spots of Leopards doesn’t come out until March, but reading it I felt as though I’d known it for years. With nostalgia for the bygone days of literary glamour, unashamed sentimentality (a brave disposition in these cynical times), and a celebration of the young writer, Kris has manufactured a wonderful sensation of déjà vu, as though the book was already a classic, just waiting to be captured by the correct writer. We’re honored to excerpt one of the novel’s most extravagant chapters, “Malice and Desperation in the Grand Canyon,” here in Recommended Reading.

I first met Kris when he pitched an idea for The Outlet, the blog of Electric Literature. The idea became a column called Literary Artifacts, in which Kris explores, mourns, and documents literature’s physical presence in an increasingly ephemeral era. With every “literary artifact” he uncovers—whether it’s Oscar Wilde’s grave, Charles Dickens memorabilia, or the Gutenberg Bible—Kris upholds a romantic mysticism of the writer, and his novel is more evidence of same.

Documenting the development of two young writers, whose equally supportive and competitive dynamic recalls Franzen and DFW’s, The Unchangeable Spots of Leopards rejuvenates the idea of writer as celebrity. At a time when so many writers are born in the classrooms of private colleges, only to return to the womb as professors once they’ve published, Leopards lets its writerly characters run rampant in the world.

Here, on the edge of the Grand Canyon, the trio who form the novel’s fractured love triangle are reunited for a wedding. With so much longstanding tension between the three friends, the marriage—and the subsequent introduction of a fourth party— has the potential to dissolve the bonds between them. Beyond the spectacle and sky blue pills, the scene is rendered through thoughtful prose and careful research. Kris is able to capture the riot of the circus by wielding the spotlight with precision.

“Malice and Desperation in the Grand Canyon” evokes Hunter S. Thompson with its title, location, and substance abuse. Elsewhere, we hear echoes of Salinger, Fitzgerald, and Kerouac (also known as the young English major’s holy trinity). I cannot help myself from comparing Kris to these old legends; he’s a writer of extreme promise, who seems to belong to an older generation.

The Unchangeable Spots of Leopards is a story of how we view ourselves, how we intend for ourselves to be seen, and how invisible we may very well be. And as the book itself is transformed into an actual artifact from the narrative, it is clear that Kris sees the power of the novel’s form in a masterful and very literal way.

Read this excerpt, and then read the rest. The Unchangeable Spots of Leopards is a story you will soon love, and the book itself an object you will cherish.

Benjamin Samuel Co-Editor, Electric Literature

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Malice and Desperation in the Grand Canyon

From The Unchangeable Spots of Leopards

by Kristopher Jansma

Recommended by Electric Literature

“By God, if I ever cracked, I’d try to make the world crack with me. Listen! The world only exists through your apprehension of it, and so it’s much better to say that it’s not you that’s cracked—it’s the Grand Canyon.”

- F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Crack Up

AS SOON AS I FINALLY DECIDED TO BREAK UP THE WEDDING, I felt much better. Julian was absolutely right—I’d been down and out the whole trip, and what for? I’d known I was going to do it—all along—and I was feeling lousy only because I thought feeling lousy was the right thing to do. I’d groused through the interminable cab ride to JFK and I’d sulked during the five-hour flight to Vegas—the first flight I’d ever been on in my life, and I had complained all through it, even after Julian so kindly ordered up the second bottle of Clicquot. I was still bitching as I—for the first time in my life—twisted the knob on the side of my gold watch and observed the hours breeze backward. I whined while I rented the car—even after Julian paid to upgrade us to the AC Shelby Cobra—and when we finally checked in to our suite at the Bellagio, I’d been so sullen that Julian had hardly any choice but to leave me behind for the night. He had much to celebrate, what with the sale of his first novel in what all the publishing- industry magazines had called “a major deal.” I was proud of him, and at the same time so jealous I could have killed him—so it was for the best that Julian popped a few sky- blue pills and traipsed off to watch the fountains firing off in their mechanized ballet and the roulette wheels clicking and spinning and the contortionists at Cirque du Soleil twisting inside one another. If the past could be counted on to repeat, I expected to hear Julian returning to his room in under four hours, with some wan, waxed bartender in tow. I’d hear the shaking of more pills out of more bottles, followed by animalistic engagements, which I’d drown out with something on Turner Classic Movies. But until then, I stood out on our balcony, staring down thirty stories into a neon abyss. I wanted very badly to do something I knew was terrible, and only once I’d settled upon simply, really doing it did I feel a great weight lifting off me at last.

Just one thing still bothered me. I’d been asked to write this article about the wedding for Esquire, seeing as Evelyn had starred in yet another Broadway hit this season and … well, all right, truth: technically, Julian had been asked to write this article and he said he couldn’t possibly, what with the final edits for his novel due just after the wedding, so he’d handed the assignment off to me.

Regardless, now that I’d decided to ruin everything, I wondered if they’d actually want that money back. Unless, I decided, why not write about the ruining of it? Why not become part of the story? Why not go full gonzo? “Malice and Desperation in the Grand Canyon.” What a title! They’d love it—surely. Celebrating in advance, I ordered a room service filet mignon and raided the minibar.

Surely my new story would be more interesting than one about how the Aphrodite- esque Evelyn Lynn Madison Demont, beloved star of Mourning Becomes Electra, wedded the utterly uninteresting Dr. Avinash Singh. The good Dr. Singh was a geologist at UC San Diego, whose life’s single act of spinal fortitude had been to insist to his parents—Indian royalty of one of the former princely states—that his wedding be held at the Grand Canyon, here in America, and not in India as they demanded. Not for its immense grandeur or romantic color upon sunset—but so that he would not have to pause long from his study of the mile- deep chasm and its forty- million- year- old rocks.

Avinash and Evelyn planned all the usual trappings of an Indian wedding: the groom would ride an elephant along the rim of the canyon and they would exchange vows before the Agni, the Sacred Fire. I’d packed three of the New York Public Library’s finest books on the subject of the traditional Hindu wedding, or Vivaah, and two more on the mighty Grand Canyon itself—all for research purposes. Whether or not I ruined the wedding, I had always fully intended to write the hell out of the event.

Giving Evelyn away would be Mr. Demont (accompanied by his fourth and third wives) and Evelyn’s mother, the first former Mrs. Demont. Also in attendance: the bride’s childhood friend, Julian McGann, presumed heir to McGann International Trading, whose as yet untitled but already acclaimed novel would be out next summer; joined by his roommate, Some Nobody, the writer of this article, who slept with the bride-to-be on six of the seven nights prior to the wedding. (It would have been seven of seven, too, if Julian hadn’t dragged me out to Vegas early, in a clumsy attempt to put some distance between me and Evelyn.) The bride, incidentally, couldn’t have given two shits about rocks, however old they might well be, and suff ered from bouts of intense vertigo that once kept her from climbing the stairs at Lincoln Center, and, so, naturally she had privately expressed some reservations about being married on the edge of the deepest chasm in the country. I considered all this as I ate my steak—every bloody bit of it—and concluded that it seemed barely avoidable that I should stop the wedding. Satisfied, I settled in to sleep.

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The Queen’s College Library, Oxford. Although a library has existed since the college’s foundation in 1340-1 the upper “baroque” library was built between 1692-5, it is considered by many to be one of the finest rooms in Oxford university. Some of the woodcarving is attributed to Thomas Minnand Son, whilst James Hands did most of the elaborate plaster-work on the ceiling. Originally there were intended to be painted panels but Thomas Roberts finished the room in 1756 with rococo plaster work. There are stained glass portraits of Henry 1V, Charles II and Catherine of Braganza. (by Martin Beek)

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Space to Grow

We need to give each other the space to grow, to be ourselves, to exercise our diversity. We need to give each other space so that we may both give and receive such beautiful things as ideas, openness, dignity, joy, healing, and inclusion.