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Yimberzal: the story so Far

Rahul Pandita - December 01, 2005


The Shergarhi Palace in Srinagar was lit more than usual that particular evening. The calm waters of the Jhelum River mirrored the royal lights as if it was copulating with a galaxy of stars.

The Palace itself was a fine, white building and from a distance, it looked like the magnificent sail of a leviathan that had set itself for a world voyage. Nothing else that stood on the banks of the river could match its grandeur. It was October and the preparations for the Dussehra festival were in full swing.

For Maharaja Hari Singh it was indeed a special occasion. With India attaining freedom two months back, all the princely states had acceded to the Indian dominion. But Kashmir was still ruled by ‘His Highness’ and that is why the celebrations deserved to be more elaborate and opulent than ever. Dussehra was a festival for the royalty. The Maharaja claimed descent from the King Rama – the supreme Kshatriya – whose triumph over the evil Ravana would be celebrated in that festival.

The path leading to the main entrance of the Palace was dotted with vintage cars and horse-drawn carriages, as testimonials to the stature of the invited guests. Inside the Palace, chandeliers shone brightly and in the brilliance of the light, one could see the lines on the forehead of Maharaja that occurred when he smiled. As a token of loyalty, rows of noblemen went to the Maharaja, one by one, and paid the traditional Nazarana – a gold coin wrapped in a silk cloth.

To entertain the royal guests, Vivaldi was being played and an array of British officers, along with their wives, made it to the dance floor. As the movement of their bodies reached a crescendo, the lights went out. There was absolute silence, as the entire Palace plunged into darkness. There were no stars to be seen in the Jhelum. There was not even a flicker of light in sight anywhere.

Fifty miles way from Srinagar, the Mahura Power house had been blown up. The tribesmen from Northwest frontier province had invaded Kashmir.

****

‘Lasa kami havasay, maazas gaum Basbasay’
[What is there for me to live, I am just withering away] – Arnimal


When I am alone – and alone I am, most of the times – I notice a pattern of shadows on the wall. No, it does not arise from my ancestral paroxysm. The pattern hovers there for a while and then turns into a virgule, as if self-defeatingly, and then fades away.

Shadows usually signify association, but my only associate is my loneliness. Moreover, for this umbra to develop, I cannot offer any shade. My world is afire. Even the fate lines on my forehead are sun burnt. There is no shade; no entity offers any comfort. I cannot even refer it to ubiquity.

So here am I – Prithvi Nath Raina – an erstwhile resident of Sardadesh, now known as Kashmir, decaying in this forsaken narrow lane in the heart of Jammu. The inhabitants call it Moti Bazaar in a manner an alcoholic would call the name of a Rathskeller.

On the chessboard of destiny, I am a mere pawn; I cannot even change direction to consolidate my position. Uma, my wife of many decades is still alive, with Soham – the rhythm of life – being recited with her every breath. She deserves a medal for living. Her kidney is gone. Blood is surging in her veins, interspersed with sugar. Her right eye has lost its vision. Diseases are like lovers. You take their names in a stentorian hush and they leave an aftertaste in your mouth.

Reading newspaper has also become a habit. I don’t read the first page. It carries the same news items, day after day. Like soggy peanuts, they are fried and made crisp and then served with catchy headlines for extra flavour. The second page carries few pictures and few lines underneath. They are referred to as obituaries.

Prabhavati Kaul – originally from Habba Kadal, Srinagar – passes away in Janipura, Jammu.

Shyam Lal Tikoo of Baramulla died Monday in Talab Tillo, Jammu. Tenth-day kriya at the Rajinder Park, Canal road. His ears still reverberating with the sound of the roaring waters of Jhelum, Shyam Lal’s tenth-day kriya will be committed in the shabby and characterless waters of the canal.

A Brahmin priest has been called for conducting the ceremony. He is in a hurry and he makes it clear before even beginning to recite adenoidal Shlokas. Rice has been cooked on kerosene stove and small mounds are made. Immersed in water till his knees, the son breaks the creation of a potter from behind his shoulder. Then he takes a short plunge into the shallow water or pours a few mugfuls over his body. After drying himself with a new towel, he dons a new kurta-pyajama and then slips his feet into the rubber slippers of either Bata or Lakhani. Sometimes Relaxo too.

Everyday after going through the second page, I decide not to read newspaper anymore. It makes me feel like Chitragupt – the clerk at the office of the lord of death, Yama – who maintains the records of life and death. I feel guilty, as if my reading newspaper causes these deaths. But so far, I have not stopped reading newspapers. It is because of a sense of duty – of attending the death ceremonies and kriyas of people known to me.

On the banks of the canal, people with probably same sense of duty have gathered to register their presence. Soon, they form small groups and break into various discussions. Kashmir situation to begin with. Then a debate on new avenues for sending sons and daughters for Engineering to Maharashtra. Somebody spews venom against the registration process of Kashmiri Samiti.

‘Bastards, all of them. Everybody wants to become a leader’.

‘Vajpayee Government has done nothing for us. Its Kashmir policy has been the worst so far’.

‘Arre Dhar Sahab, Have you heard this: Chaman Lal Bhat’s daughter has married a Dogri boy’.

‘Mahra, it is a common trend now. Punjabis, Sikhs, Madrasis, Bengalis and even Chamars – our daughters are getting married anywhere and everywhere’.

‘But a Dogri?’

‘Forget it brother. Tell me, what is your son upto, these days?’

‘He has just completed his B.tech, now pursuing MBA from Pune’.

‘Your sister’s son – I heard he is Manager in a software company in Delhi. My sister-in-law’s daughter, she is B.E Electronics – drawing a five-figure salary in a multinational firm. The family has their own house in Dilshad Garden. May be both of them can click’.

Pandit Ji is looking at his watch at regular intervals. After he finishes this task, there is another in offing – a Yagnopavit ceremony. Hymns are being fired like salvos. Even if the priest forgets to recite a couple of them in a series, it would not matter. If the soul is pure, it would go to heaven. And if it is not, how could a Shloka or two salvage the soul? The entire Dharmashastras would be of little help in that case.

Anyways, the ceremony is over and so is a chapter called Shyam Lal Tikoo.

When a person dies, the ghost of the deceased hovers around his mortal remains and mourns for those whom he has left behind. To rouse dispassion in him, the son to whom he is greatly attached performs the Kapal-Kriya – the breaking of his skull.

Who will rouse that dispassion in me? It is said that the heaviest load in this universe is that of a father carrying his son’s body. Ask me, I have carried it myself and my shoulders are still bent. It is me who dipped myself in the same canal water on my son Ravi’s tenth-day kriya and then on eleventh day, sent his soul to the abode of my ancestors, through the efficacy of mantras.

My condition is much like that of the king of Nagrama – now Nagam Tehsil, where I served as a teacher, many years ago. Damudhar, as he was called, built his kingdom, Satrasteng, on a plateau and also got a dam constructed for water. One day, as he prepared to leave for a bath, he was stopped by Brahmins, who asked for food. But the king refused saying he would have his bath first and then feed them. Angered with king’s refusal, the Brahmins cursed him, turning him into a snake. The legend says that the snake can still be seen in search of water. He is not to be relieved from this curse, until he hears the whole Ramayana recited to him in a single day.

How will I seek my salvation? Who will recite Ramayana for me? And what will prove to be catharsis for me?

Dear Friends, the above is an excerpt from my forthcoming novel, Yimberzal (Narcissus). Is it worth it? Please let me know.

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Posted by Rahul Pandita at December 1, 2005 10:12 PM

Comments

Dear Rahul,
Yes! Keep writing, keep sharing here with us. Please!
And thank you!
:)
~~ Kate

"God has nowhere to put his goodness, if not in me … no place to put himself entire, if not in me."

Is this the Knowing which will bring you/me salvation? The catharsis process which - reveals the hidden God.

The discovery we all are meant to make?

Blessings,
Kate

Hi Rahul

I couldn't stop reading, and wanted more. Your stories are compelling -- these paragraphs of your upcoming novel were like a good cup of tea this morning. Thanks.

Cheers, Heather

Rahul, a master story teller.

***

I will try to edit the beginning of your story.

Cheers
TS

Interesting....keep writing...

Hi Rahul, very beautiful, very moving, very powerful.I loved reading it.God bless you. I have no answers to those profound questions.

Dear Rahul,

Very evocative. I could almost feel the chill of fall in Kashmir (alas, I have never been there). You are gifted. Look forward to reading your book.

Regards,

Ravi Kulkarni

Rahul:

I have never read a novel in my life. So I dont know how they are written generally. But if this is a preview of what yours will be like .. yours might be my first!

Cheers,
Desh
Drishtikone.com

Rahul - you're definitely gifted! Since you asked for feedback, I would say that your language needs a bit of polishing at times and sometimes the paragraphs appear a bit disconnected.

Hi Rahul,

My best wishes for getting your work published. I would give you the same feedback as Divya.
Isn't Yimberzal the name of a Kashmiri wild flower? You have mentioned in brackets as Narcissus.

If I remember correctly, you said you wanted to get your novel published, right? My brother in law (sister's husband) is a book publisher, but I'm not sure if he publishes novels. I'll ask him about yours and Harb's book too. You can email me your contact details at cosmicsuperstar@gmail.com Since we are both in Delhi, maybe we can meet up.

Cheers!
Navin

Thanks everybody for those remarks. Divya, my problem is that I don't edit. tanzan, Please help. and Navin, I will mail you my contact details.

Love, Rahul

Dear Rahul,

Frankly, i did not like this piece as much as i liked your other pieces. As you are describing a different situation here, style of presentation has to be different, suitable to the situation you are attempting to portray. As you should know, when you tell us about Ashok or Ali, it is supposed to invoke one kind of feeling and you use an apt style. And when you describe another situation as here, - where a differrent kind of feeling is to be evoked in readers mind - the style has to be different. Somehow I feel that you are using the same style.

Anyway best wishes.

Rahul,

Its fantastic. As Divya said it needs some polishing.If you are going in for printing, Give it to some of the best writers and get their fedback. You may also try and contact some of the western writers to get some feedback. Try and goole and find out some contacts.

Here novel or book writing is normally taught in the universities. There are many experts who can review your writing and give excellent tips. I am sure this will definitely help.


Yogi

Rahul,
Very very interesting piece on Hari Singh...the next half I couldn't connect or perhaps it was an excerpt from the whole which has smoother well integrated beginning that you haven't put in here.

Dear Oz
The section on Hari Singh is just to build up the tempo. It is like an introduction of what is to come. The novel starts from Arnimal's remarks. So no paragraph is missing.

Desh, I will make sure that I send you a copy and may it be your first novel. and Najeeb, I will try to rise to your expectations. Thank you

Rahul:

Thanks! A signed copy of a writer as my first novel will be quite a deal!

I like you style - its something that I have a fancy for. To say your heart but leave enough space for the reader to interpret and make the story his/her own.

To some that style renders as abrupt and staccato.. but it is one that leaves the reader with some burden. You cannot put your book down and leave on the road to do some other work with a feeling that you are done with your book.

It remains with you!

Cheers,
Desh
Drishtikone.com

Desh
I was just going through your verses in mallika's open thread. Overwhelming! I feel like singing, God knows what!

Rahul:

Thanks again!

Since that thread has opened my heart a bit lemme share it before it closes again:

When I was in my teens.. I was like a lost guy..

One day I chanced upon clippings from Navbharat times in 1950's where I saw stories written by my Dad. They were very touching. The stoic person that he had become due to his personal tragedies, I never thought he could have had this side!

That inspired me to write. I started with short stories but soon found expression in poetry.

But when I would write a new poem and take it to him, he would summarily dismiss it. It was like rejection from God.

Then one December night while I was trying to sleep but hadnt, he walked by and stopped to tell my Mother in a hushed voice.. "I think our son has become a poet"!

A few weeks later he dies on Dec 22nd 1983 he died.

Last night was 12 years (almost to the day) that I wrote again.

Thanks Mallika! And TS and you!

Cheers,
Desh
Drishtikone.com

Sorry - it was 22 years.

That cool autumn evening, the Shergarhi Palace standing by the calm Jhelum waters was all aglitter, more than usual. The lights from the majestic palace mingled and danced with a million stars in the waters of the river. All white, as if washed by the Himalayan snows, the palace stood tall. From a distance it looked like a huge ship ready to set sail for the world voyage. Nothing by the river could match its grandeur. It was October and the preparations for the coming Dussehra festival were in full swing.

Tanzan... who are you? Where do you live? What do you do? Tell me everything, if you will.

Rahul,

A difficult request
For the moment
Someday it'll be fulfilled
God willing

Till then
Regards and Cheers

TS

Maya!

Passion!

Longing!

Hi Rahul and Tanzan,

Just my opinion: Rahul, I prefer your original version of the first paragraph. Tanzan, while your edit makes for a more commercially-palatable reading, it has also smoothed out and lost some of Rahul's original verbal textures, rhythms and structures.

In Rahul's original, there is this flow of visual pictures and thoughts: An image of a grand, royal building, a special night, with calm air, a smooth river and a sky full of stars reflected and mixed with the reflection of palace lights, the building is so amazing and pure that it stands away from its surroundings as the do sails of a big ship against a limitless ocean, -- stop: the season is autumn, and a festival is underway.

This version has drama and dynamics, rhythm and texture.

In Tanzan's edit, there is this flow of visual pictures and thoughts: A cool autumn evening, a palace by a river, with palace all alight, stars and palace lights are reflected in the water, the palace is white, tall and big, it looks as it's going to sail away, it's bigger than anything else around, it's October, and a festival is underway.

In the edited version, the flow from item to item is smoother, and this means there is less drama and dynamics, the excitement is less, and the reader is less engaged.

To take one specific item...in Tanzan's edit, the first sentence mentions autumn, so it's not a fresh bit of news when the month of October is mentioned at the end of the parapraph. The edit has no sense of " -- stop: " when the idea of autumn is introduced. A dynamic shift and a bit of drama have been lost to the smoothness of the edit.

Rahul's original has rhythm, structure, space and voids that allow the reader to enter into the story. The original is poetic and evocative. The order of presentation of elements in the original give them drama and power. Rahul's natural style of writing brings the reader deep into the story and its images. The very dynamics that make Rahul's writing so effective are lost in Tanzan's smooth edit.

Again, this is one person's opinion, take it for what you will.

Cheers, Heather


Cheers, Heather

Amazing Heather. I never thought like this. I hope I always rise to your expectations.

Hi Rahul,

No worries.

Cheers, Heather

Heather,

Thanks for your analysis of the two different writing styles. I recently tried to edit the opening passage of an another post of Rahul. I wonder what would be your take on that.

Cheers
TS

Heather, Rahul:

The Shergarhi Palace was illuminated more than usual that particular evening. The calm waters of the Jhelum mirrored its royal lights as if the river undulated in a sea of stars.

The Palace itself was a magnificent, white building that from a distance, looked like the magnificent sail of a leviathan that had set sail on a world voyage. Nothing else that stood on the banks of the river could match its grandeur. It was October in Srinagar and the preparations for the Dussehra festival were in full swing.

The Shergarhi Palace was illuminated more than usual that particular evening. The calm waters of the Jhelum mirrored its royal lights as if the river undulated in an ocean of stars.

For Maharaja Hari Singh it was indeed a special occasion. With India attaining freedom two months prior, all the princely states had acceded to Indian dominion. Only Kashmir was still ruled by ‘His Highness’ and that is why the celebrations were to be more opulent than ever. Dussehra was a festival for the monarchy. The Maharaja claimed descent from King Rama himself – the supreme Kshatriya – whose triumph over the evil Ravana was to be celebrated in this festival.

The path leading to the main entrance was dotted with vintage cars and horse drawn carriages, a testiment to the stature of the invited guests. Inside the Palace, chandeliers shone brightly and in the brilliance of the light, one could see the lines on the forehead of the Maharaja when he smiled. As a token of loyalty, rows of noblemen went to the Maharaja, one by one, and paid the traditional Nazarana – a gold coin wrapped in a silk cloth.

The path leading to the main entrance was dotted with vintage cars and horse drawn carriages, a testiment to the stature of the guests.

The path leading to the main entrance was dotted with vintage automobiles and horse drawn carriages, a testiment to the stature of the gues

The Palace itself, a magnificent white building, looked from a distance, like the magnificent sail of a leviathan setting sail on some long apointed earthly voyage. Nothing else that stood on the banks of the river could match its grandeur. It was October in Srinagar and the preparations for the Dussehra festival were in full swing.

Rahul:

Sorry if I'm taking liberties. It's just so much fun to get into your thang.

The Palace itself, a magnificent white building, looked from a distance like the magnificent sail of a leviathan setting out on a long apointed celestial voyage. Nothing else that stood on the banks of the river could match its grandeur. It was October in Srinagar and the preparations for the Dussehra festival were in full swing.

Removed the coma between "distance" and "like". Also "a" replaces "some". "Celestial" replaces "earthly".

Please let me know if I am wasting your and or my time. I will await your comment.

The Shergarhi Palace was illuminated more than usual.

Removed "that particular evening."

Ok ok I'll stop now. This is fun.

What is a book editor anyway? Seriously.

I can edit film until the sun stops revolving aroung the earth.

Wait, some one says it already has.

A relief from critical discusion. I start to understand why y'all been doing poetry. A release from "critical" humadry. Don't look it up. The word doesn't exist.

Kashmir was still ruled by ‘His Highness’. This is why the celebrations were to be more opulent than ever.

Damn Rahul I can't stop. But I must. I have been on this blog for 10 and one half hours. Must go. Ta ta.

It was the illusive Kashmir that was still ruled by ‘His Highness’.

LOL. Awesome Laurence

The Palace itself, a magnificent white building, looked, from a distance, like the magnificent sail of a leviathan setting sail on some long apointed earthly voyage.

Remove comma between "magnificent" and "white". Place comma between "looked" and "from".

Hi Laurance Peter

Just wanted to give my one-person opinion again. If I were Rahul's editor, I would change only a word or two of the piece. His voice is distinct and unique, and to edit it in such a way that it sounds more like what has already been written, is to dilute Rahul's writing voice, which is a disservice to his writing and his readers.

The most sensitive editors would preserve the voice of writers as strong as Rahul, only cleaning up a typo or two, clarifying structures, but not rewriting.

All of Rahul's past experiences as a man and a journalist feed into the way he writes. Although Yimberzal is fiction, as written it carries a quality of authenticity. There is so much power and aliveness in Rahul's writing, because of who he is. To overedit Rahul is to mask or remove that uniqueness and authenticity for the sake of a more conventional sounding word flow.

Please take another look at two sentences that both you and Tanzan have edited, where (IMHO) your edits diminished Rahul's voice:

"...The Palace itself was a fine, white building and from a distance, it looked like the magnificent sail of a leviathan that had set itself for a world voyage. Nothing else that stood on the banks of the river could match its grandeur....".

In my opinion, these sentences are beautiful and perfect just as they are. Some editors would remove the "it" after the comma in the first sentence, to make the sentence smoother. It creates a little half-beat that breaks the two halves of the sentence. But if you remove the "it" for the sake of smoothness, you even out the texture and rhythm of the sentence's phrases, and soften the verbal and aural dynamics, and the focus that "it" and its half-beat give to the second half of the sentence will be lost. Changing the phrasing of "...magnificent sail of a leviathan that had set itself for a world voyage..." to a more conventional wording and phrasing weakens the image and thought that this massive building looks so disconnected from, and superior to, its surroundings, that it could sail haughtily away. Changing "...set itself..." to something more conventional removes the idea that the building and its inhabitants are so self-sufficient and powerful that they are like a ship that can set its own sail, as if it needs no other crew to sail away. Tanzan's edit was "...huge ship ready to set sail for the world voyage...". This loses impact because the word leviathan is changed to ship. A leviathan is a sea moster kind of enormous fish, and Rahul is being metaphorical here. One of your edits was "...leviathan that had set sail on a world voyage...". This loses impact because the leviathan is now passive, it has no sail to set for itself, it is setting sail, i.e., leaving, which is different from a sea monster ship setting its own sail to leave on its own. This section of Rahuls work needs no changes, I feel.

In fact, I would change little of Rahul's original, if I were an editor. What would I change? Well...

"Vintage cars" bothered me because I had to re-read to understand that the time was in the '50's, and the use of horse-drawn carriages and cars that were vintage even in the '50's, conveyed something special about wealth and privilege that was unique to the setting, and I'm not familiar with the setting. I'd originally thought Rahul was referring to '50's cars as being vintage from our time-view, when he meant the 50's time-view. His US readers might puzzle over the fact that the rich weren't in new vehicles. The phrase "acceded to the Indian dominion" presupposes an audience familiarity with the phrasing of Indian and British versions of English, which not all the world has. If Rahul is writing for an international audience, this phrase could be simplified so it would work for all versions of English. A comma would work after "But Kashmir was still ruled by ‘His Highness’" to give the reader a breathing point before the second, longer half of the sentence. This section, "To entertain the royal guests, Vivaldi was being played and an array of British officers, along with their wives, made it to the dance floor. As the movement of their bodies reached a crescendo,.." is too compressed, culturally. Unless one knows the cultural setting, or puzzles it out, one's thoughts about this section might be: Why are British officers still there if independence has been achieved, why are people dancing to Vivaldi in the '50's, if they're dancing to Vivaldi (which though passionate, is also restrained in that passion), would their bodies reach a crescendo, which is an image of unrestrained passion? I'm not completely clueless to references to Dussehra, Rama and Ravana (because I've seen Swades :) ), but many in an international audience might need help here (a footnote on this page of the finished novel, perhaps). The phrase "ancestral paroxysm" has no clear meaning to unaculturated audience members like me. I had to look up the meaning of "virgule". "Shadows usually signify association" is culture-specific, and not immediately meaningful otherwise, but this could stand, as one of the great services fiction performs is to introduce its readers to new worlds, and the reader can figure this one out. "Moreover, for this umbra to develop, I cannot offer any shade." is not a clear metaphor. Does Rahul mean that if the hero offers shade the shadow won't develop, or that he has no shade to offer, or that he doesn't want to offer shade to stop the shadows from developing, or that he can't offer because his world is afire, etc.? To "call it Moti Bazaar" is not parallel enough to "call the name of a Rathskeller" -- the first is about naming something, the second is about calling out. Does Rahul mean "The second page carries few pictures and few lines underneath." or does he mean "The second page carries a few pictures with few lines underneath.", or something else? I'm not sure how to read this, because my internal visual image of an obit page doesn't correlate meangingfully with what Rahul wrote about the look of the obit page the hero reads every day. "Immersed in water till his knees" might read better as "Immersed in water to his knees". The fragment "...the son breaks the creation of a potter from behind his shoulder." is slightly compressed, culturally, and the images it provokes are not clear to non-Indians: Can Rahul say "pot", or is it important that it's a "potter's creation"? If the latter, it's not clear whose shoulder the pot is being broken behind or on, whether it's being broken behind someone's back by someone else, on someone's back by someone else, or on someone's back by himself. "The canal" is mentioned three times, and only at the third occurance is its significance clear to unaculturated readers; more context earlier would help its significance be understood better, for an international audience. "Kashmir situation to begin with." is an Indian English locution, "The Kashmir situation to begin with." would work for both Indian and international audience members. "Kashmiri Samiti" would need a footnote in the finished novel (or perhaps a foreword explaining the history, government structures, conflicts and politics about which Rahul is writing, as this would obviate the need for footnotes). The word "upto" should be two words, "up to". The phrase "...now pursuing MBA from Pune’" is an Indian English locution. If such locutions are frequent in the book, the non-Indian reader will pick them up, but if not, change to the more international "...and he's now pursuing an MBA from Pune’". "...May be both of them can click’." presumes the reader understands Indian culture. The international audience may not, and since this is the opening of the book, maybe a less shorthand way of saying this can be found (also, "...May be" should be "...Maybe"). "Anyways" is an Indian English word, other Englishes use "Anyway". In the phrase "those whom he has left behind", use "who" or nothing -- "those who he has left behind" or "those left behind". The phrase "on eleventh day" is Indian English, "on the eleventh day" would work for all English-speaking readers. "But the king refused saying" would be better as "The king refused, saying".

And that's all I'd touch were I an editor.

The time I've spent on this post is testament to the strength of how I feel, that the editor who handles Rahul's fiction should take good care not disturb his voice. To do so might be somewhat like rewriting Whitman or Hemingway -- one can do it, but why would you want to change that unique style, which comes from the core of the writer's self, and is worthy of the rest of the world's reading and discussion time??? However, this is all just my opinion after all.

(Btw, LPB, in your edits you use "testiment" several times, which should be spelled "testament".)

Cheers, Heather

Heather, a promise to you: you are surely a part of the acknowledgement section of Yimberzal.

Hi Tanzan,

In your edit for Rahul's opening to Three Cigarette Stubs and a Cornfield, I don't get the same sense of bliss at being in control of one's own life and time after a hard life, and the sense of luxury at being allowed to / being able to / finally lie back at one's leisure for a hand-mixed smoke, that I get from Rahul's original.

What may have provoked your edit was the "Then" first word in the third sentence of his first paragraph in that piece. This word transitions between two sentences of similar lengths and rhyths, and I think Rahul didn't completely work out how to do that transition, or perhaps with more thought he'd change one of the two sentences a bit so the "Then" wouldn't be required.

Rahul's original second paragraph is fine as-is, IMHO:

"After putting the second tobacco in the pipe, he mixed it with the first one and lit the pipe. Taking quick puffs in succession, he put his head behind, on the pillow. As smoke rose from the pipe, he tried to listen to the pelting down of rain drops on the tin roof. A sense of peace prevailed upon him. Every cell of his body felt content. For years he had waited for this moment."

When I read it, I feel my own spine lengthening, my shoulders go down and back, my breathing opens up, and I smile. The two words "rain drops" should be "raindrops", and "he put his head behind, on the pillow" makes it sound like he's taking his head off his neck and putting it behind him on the pillow, whereas Rahul means "he put his head back, on the pillow behind him" -- those are the only changes this needs.

As smooth and competent as your edit is, it doesn't give the reader time to identify with how the hero feels at these moments in his life. Your version is more compact and it hurries the reader on with a polished description of what is going on. You've removed and replaced words and phrases, and thus reduced the length of time the reader spends in this moment in time. You've removed commas and full stops, and thus reduced the number of times the reader is warned to take a breath. You are taking the reader by the shoulder and moving him or her quickly on, to the next section of text. Why not allow the reader to linger, as Rahul does, and as your own poetry does?

Rahul's original's phrasing, with its spaces and textures, gives readers a chance to insert themselves into the moment and feel hero's feelings themselves, thus it engages the readers more deeply.

If you read your edit out, then read out Rahul's original, you'll see what I mean. Rahul's writing is really quite musical and percussive, that's how strong his use of rhythm and texture are, for me.

In design and art, the artist learns to not overwork the design, painting, sculpture, etc., so as not to lose the spontaneity and originality that arose out of his or her being, that seeded the work. So, too in writing, I think. You are careful of your own voice in your own comments and poetry. I think that your edits are a form of trying on Rahul's voice, but since your and his experiences are different, your edit makes his story different. Some of Rahul's strengths are texture, rhythm, tactile description. Some of yours are spareness, frugality, precise allusion. Yours and Rahul's strengths run somewhat counter to each other. When you edit something that originated with him, you remove elements that arise from his strengths and insert some that arise from your own strengths. In your editing process, his originality becomes diluted and unclear, yet because you are editing, not writing, there's not enough of you inserted there to clear things up. The edited version "reads flat", it's like a stew cooked too long, without salt and spice.

Perhaps good writers should desist from editing the work of other good writers, because the urge to rewrite instead of edit minimally is strong and natural, and too hard to resist.

For me, reading Rahul's fiction snippets is like walking barefoot on wet sand at the edge of the ocean on a hot day, feeling the velvet mini-crunch and coolness of the sand (sometimes a bit of hot roughness when I step on the dry sand by accident), and the cool healing of the salt waters as their frothy edges lap at my feet. Reading your poetry comments is like sitting on a stone wall, dabbling my toes in a cool, shaded brook, while reading a book. Different sensations, both valid and pleasurable.

Cheers, Heather

Hi all

Part of my excitement at reading Rahul's fiction is due to knowing how amazingly hard it is to write well.

(Editing a good writer must be like to brushing a mote of dust or two from the surface of a fine sculpture -- it must be thrilling to be in close association with the original, but it is easy work compared to the original effort.)

Cheers, Heather

Heather:

I do agree an editor must not tamper to much with the work of a great writer.

I wrote comedy for years. There was an individual in our group that wrote like Mozart composed. No one could change one word of what he wrote. To change one word, one punctuation would lesson the work. And no matter what any of the other 13 of us wrotw, no matter how good, upon a first reading he was able to make deep changes that only made the pieces better. This is genius. A real master of language, thought and expression.

I wonder what Hemingway's original manuscripts looked like before they went to edit.

The reason I felt the urge to do so much fudging with Rahul's work is that it needs it if he is going to get published. He has something to say and the desire and inspiration to spend the time to do it. He is not there yet in terms of genius and I'm sure he is not even attempting to claim genius in his writings.

I read Hemingway and many great writers and personally I can't find a thing to edit. Rahul's work is not there yet and if you suggest that only a word here or a comma there need be changed you do him a disservice, in my humble opinion.

As an avid reader I must confess that I do not like everything that I read and that does not mean that the things I do not like are not written well.

I do like what Rahul writes. What you call steps and half steps, I see as convolution in expression.

Rahul's voice comes through in the entirety of the story and the deeper message he is attempting to get out to a broader audience. If a publisher senses that he is not secure in his writing his voice will not reach that audience. Point in fact.

I am not an editor but I am a reader and so thought I would lend this view as a reader.

I'm sure that the changes I made are no better then what Rahul has written. I only want to point him in a direction of expressing with a conservation of movement in his use of language. Just a finger pointing to the moon. Not the moon itself.

I'm curious. In this statement of yours:

"Editing a good writer must be like to brushing a mote of dust..."

did you intentionally use the word "like" or did you mean "likened"?

Hi Laurence

We agree to disagree in several respects -- remember, I prefaced and ended my comments by stating that they were my own opinions only. 'Scuse mer for my typos -- the "to" should be removed from the sentence you quoted at the end of your comment. I didn't say steps and full steps, I said commas and full stops (periods).

Rahul's expressions are far from convoluted. Writing is not story alone, it's voice, too.

When a strong, new voice arises, it can sound uncomfortablely different, though pleasant nonetheless. For great readers, with a body of writing styles absorbed and ready for reference, the new voice may sound jarring initially, and in need of being cleaned up, to fit smoothly as a new item in the reference section of the mind and ear.

Yet listen again to Rahul in a few months, and see if you haven't absorbed his style to the point that his writing is as clear as glass to you. And I say listen advisedly. One of the ways I know how good his writing is is that it reads well.

Like Dickens, Whitman, Hemingway and Fitzgerald, Rahul Pandita's writing, so far as I've read it, sings and has beats and can be read like prose poetry. I can't find enough Hemingway on the web (he's still under copyright) to give an example, but read this bit of Fitzgerald's This Side of Paradise: http://www.bartleby.com/115/25.html and this bit of Whitmans's Specimen Days: http://www.bartleby.com/229/1057.html -- they are sonorous, and filled with non-linear phrasings, and half and full stops (commas and periods, and colons, as well!), to tell the reader when to pause a bit and for how long. They are filled with qualities similar to Rahul's fiction, so far as I've read it, with all that punctuation to create the varying-length pauses (part of texture, rhythm and structure), plenty of few- and many-syllabled words all mixed in (more texture and rhythm), lots of narrative digression (richness of structure) and lucid, evocative descriptions (color and texture).

If I seem to be stubborn on this point, well, so be it. His writing doesn't need any flattery, and it also doesn't need much editing, and any out-and-out rewrites should come from his own pen, keyboard, or whatever he's using -- in my opinion.

Just a note on editing: I'm not an editor either, but I've done my fair share of unofficial editing for friends, family and colleagues. When I first began to serve my family and acquaintances in that way, I initially tended to want to rewrite sections of the pieces. It took a a few rounds of edits to be clear that the voice of each writer needed to stand untouched, and my role was only to help insure clean spelling and grammer, and to help the writer out of small verbal ditches if they had gotten their wheels in, here or there. The best-edited publication I've ever read was the New Yorker magazine, until recent years. This magazine was well known for having editors who were ever so careful to suggest to the writers that this or that small change was needed, not to tell them what to do, or to rewrite. As a result, the magazine, which is virtually all writing and cartoons, was a vibrant collection of individual writers' voices for issue after issue, for decades. As the older editors retired or passed away, the magazine's articles and stories became muddied and indistinct. Laid over that was a sense of corruption, when Tina Brown became the Chief. For a few years there, I could barely stand to read the New Yorker. Since she's left, (a few years ago), the New Yorker has gradually moved towards better editing, and the multiple voices are coming in clear again. Now I can read about 70% of each issue, on average. (Formerly, I'd read it cover to cover). This is how important editing is, and how important it is that editors be gentle and perceptive in their work, as they are but polishers and buffers of the gems that are good writers.

Cheers, Heather

Heather:

Yes we agree to disagree. Believe me I am acutely aware that you qualified your comments with the fact that they are "your opinions".

I only asked if there was a typo because you pointed out my typo. It led me to erroneously assuming you were one of those people, much like my comedy writing partner, that NEVER misused language when communicating. So I wasn't sure if it was a typo or just an acceptable funny sounding sentence. Something for me to learn from. I should trust my own ear more.

Steps, half steps, full steps, full stops, comas? I understood your meaning, got the message and my opinion doesn't change.

I didn't say the entirety of his writing is convoluted. Enough of it is that if the structure of his sentences aren't altered, a whole lot, we will not see him in print by any major publisher. Time will tell us.

Don't worry about the Hemingway. He's one of my favorites. I visited the links you posted and wonder what your point is. If it is to show me similarities between established writers and Rahul I didn't see it. They only confirmed that their mastery of writing overshadows Rahul's

I wish him luck. My doing what I did was in an attempt to show possibilities outside of the box that confines us all. Assisting him in seeing other ways of saying the same thing. Economy of thought is essential. I would not expect or want him to use any of the stuff I wrote. If anything it was more for me then for him.

It takes years of writing to master the art. Anyone can write. Not everyone can soar. Again this is only my opinion and I do wish him growth as he struggles to find his voice. Writing and getting published is a very difficult life devoting act. It is not glamorous. It is filled with failure and very lonely. The clear majority of those that attempt it never become published. It is only fair that I be as honest with Rahul as I can. It won't be the last time someone tells him his writing isn't unique. And when he hears it from someone that is an editor or a publisher it will hit a deep place within him. Non publishers an non editors such as us are very forgiving. The professionals are not.

Hi Laurence and Heather,
Your posts are very content-rich!
These are gifts as I see for Rahul, and other writers here! It takes time, and yes, editing, to make a story Come Alive, and keep the reader engaged.
Rahul, keep sharing your story here. I am enjoying your words and style. Keep at your craft, and we will see you grow.
Thanks!
Blessings,
~~ Kate

Heather,

Thanks for reading my edits of Rahul's writings and giving a well thought crit. In fact, I have never edited any novel. Here it was only for my fun. Rahul's text seemed jarred and I tried to smooth it out. But in my attempt, I failed to preserve the texture, the rhythm and the structure of Rahul's unique writing style, as you rightly pointed out.

I also appreciate your comments on my poetry. Perhaps you are the only reader here who has love for literature and good writing.

I will not be surprised if Rahul decides to have you edit his novel. His writing style is unique. No doubt. But his writs do need polishing. In the present form, I doubt if any publisher will touch his manuscript for publication in the West.

Thanks once again for the time you have taken to give an honest and frank opinion.

Cheers
TS

Rahul,

I do like what Heather says about your writings. You are a great writer and story teller yet to be discovered by the publishing media. And you don't know how unique is your writing style! I believe it is just a matter time before you become a celebrity.
Keep writing. Good luck!

Cheers
TS

Thanks Tanzan. I regret picking up and not picking up violets!

Rahul,

If you do not have a literary agent yet, get one soon. They know when and where to pick up the violets.

TS

Hi Rahul,

I cannot wait to describe the sense of pride that engulfs me when I see you in this avatar of a master story teller. I had only heard of your writing skills from you-know-who, but having read you now, I sincerely feel you have a very bright future in the creative world of writing.
I do have some suggestions for you though. Send me a PM on my email id (iraina@shaw.ca).

Your friend
Inder

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