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Saturday, November 5, 2011

CLRI 2/6 November 2011

Editor's Line

An Ideology is a Cage
An ideology is a cage. When you believe in an ideology you tend to implement it. You create a cagewall around; soon you are caged in. Being caged in an ideology sometimes leads to alienating you from other ideologies and even ending up with developing a feeling of hatred towards other ideologies and beliefs and assertiveness of your ideology.

As strongly you believe in an ideology so strongly you are assertive and hate other ideologies. Communists, racists, fascists, religious fundamentalists, and Naxalites are good examples of strong believers in their ideologies whatsoever. They are caged in an ideology; they are assertive and have strong hatred towards other ideologies and beliefs. This makes them to impose their ideologies on others; they tend to impose a pan-extremist theory in the world.

When Karl Marx discussing about religion remarked, “religion is the opium of the masses”1 he meant man should want to be free from this opium. But by not believing in any religious ideology he too, though unknowingly, started to believe in agnosticism or atheism. His belief in not believing in religion was very strong, so strong that his ideology stands not short of any belief. In him this ideology was so strong that had Marx believe that man can achieve happiness only when he does not believe in a religion. “The abolition of religion as the illusory happiness of the people is required for their real happiness.” 2 Marx strongly asserted “I hate all gods” in his doctoral dissertation. Marx was caged in his ideology, he created a strong cagewall around him and so he was assertive and hated religions.

Subsequently when the communist government came to power in 1917 in the Soviet Union (the Bolshevik party under Vladimir Lenin), they used force to impose their ideology on one and all. Though they proclaimed to overthrow the age-old bourgeois rule and bring the rule of the proletariat, they started to impose their ideology on all the citizens. To make the people submit to their ideology, the communist government adopted even sternest actions killing millions of the people. According to Leonard Schapiro the Bolshevik "refusal to come to terms with the [Revolutionary] socialists, and the dispersal of the Constituent assembly, led to the logical result that revolutionary terror would now be directed, not only against traditional enemies, such as the bourgeoisie or right-wing opponents, but against anyone, be he socialist, worker, or peasant, who opposed Bolshevik rule"3.

Similarly fundamentalists of any religion are caged in because they have strong belief in their religion and want to impose it on others—both on their fellow believers and those who are outside their belief. This shows that they are too assertive and have strong hatred towards others. There are laws in many countries which are binding both on believers and non-believers alike. For example females—both Muslims and non-Muslims—are ordered to cover their faces when they come out in public in many Islamic countries whereas in France all females have to have no scarf on their faces.

Secondly, any religious terrorism is the example of assertiveness of the ideology the fundamentalists are caged in. Religious fundamentalism has given rise to terrorism. Most of the religious fundamentalists believe that by terrorizing people and the world they can make them accept their policies and implement them in order to buy peace with them. This way they can gradually encroach upon the government policies and one day they will govern. Likewise fascists are too assertive of their ideology and have strong hatred. Adolf Hitler for example had a strong Anti-Semitic feeling which resulted into killing of millions of the Jews.

Naxalism in India, yet another example, is the outcome of assertive action of those who believe in radical communism in the strongest form. Naxalists want to overthrow an elected government by force and redistribute lands to the poor and landless. They believe that the people belonging to upper classes and the rich have the bigger share of the haves in their favours. But they talk with the gun. Can a development be ever brought by using force and terrorizing the people? This appears to be a lame allegation as the Naxals do not participate in democratic elections; nay they prevent others to participate in elections. By participating in elections the Naxals could have placed their voice on the table but they do not do this. Because the real aim is not bringing a reform rather impose their communism in its totality.

In all these cases strong belief in an ideology resulted into extremism and hatred towards other ideologies and other believers resulting into killing of millions of people.

  1. Marx, K. Introduction to A Contribution to the Critique of Hegel’s Philosophy of Right. Collected Works, v. 3. New York. 1976.
  2. Ibid.
  3. Leonard Bertram Schapiro. The Communist Party of the Soviet Union. Eyre & Spottiswoode, p. 183. 1970. See also: Lenin and the First Communist Revolutions, V (

Nudity and Vulgarity are Two Different Things
—Dress, Chastity, Shame, Virginity

Nudity and vulgarity are two different things. We are born nude but not vulgar. Nudity is a natural condition while vulgarity is a learned behaviour. Nudity is not bad though vulgarity may be considered so. We’re nude under our garments but we are not vulgar under any garb, unless chosen.

Nudity is a prevailing fact. There are cultures which prefer little clothes, or some even wear too little clothes. Tribal people wear either little clothes or are nude. So nudity cannot be a reason of shamefulness.

Vulgarity is not a natural condition. One is vulgar in the manners one presents. Featuring young girl models in seductive postures in the men’s fashion and modeling magazines is vulgarity—in 2010 FHM brought out a 10-year girl in a seductive pose. Producing padded bras for the girls as young as five years old, and bikinis and thongs for girls under ten is yet another example of vulgarity, courtesy Abercrombie & Fitch. This promotes sexualisation by creating a feeling that the young girls are female and they would develop breasts in the place where they put on bras. This erases innocence from the mind of young female children. This is vulgarity.

Vulgarity is a provocative action or posture while nudity is simplicity. Many sadhus and saints do not wear clothes; their aim is to discard worldly riches. They are simple and not vulgar. On contrary, posing a seductive posture is possible even in long clothes—many girls wear scarf on their faces to look attractive and glamorous. When adorning a see-thorough dress would not necessarily be tagged vulgar but waving one’s body in obscene even in full clothes may be vulgar. However there is a thin line between nudity and vulgarity. A slight change in one may tend to advance into another.

Pushcart Award 2011 Nominees Announcement
Contemporary Literary Review: India is an ever growing journal. CLRI has increased its inclusion to ten pieces from seven per month to accommodate a large number of submissions from the writers from around the world. This is an effort to meet our goal to publish and promote as many writers as possible. However we apologise if any writer's submission does not get space in CLRI.

Now CLRI is going to work on nominating its writers to Pushcart Award by the end of November 2011. (However CLRI will nominate its writers only if suitable candidates are found.)

CLRI Reviews October 2011 Released
Contemporary Literary Review: India introduces its newsletter CLRI Reviews to the readers and writers. CLRI Reviews will feature reviews on books, journals, magazines, and products. CLRI Reviews will also include a book release list. Please send us your book release, so we can include it in the next CLRI Review issue.

Poetic Snippet
God created the apple
Steve Jobs invented Apple
The one who's once tempted to eat the apple
Is tempted to own Apple.

Khurshid Alam,
Editor, CLRI, November 2011.

The River Becomes by Susan Adams

The River Becomes (Poem) by Susan Adams

The River Becomes
Landscape is a slovenly
hot, dirty white.
The Ganges font
in the foothills of mountains
waits like a clock,
a dust bitten scar
of haze and cough
where Brahmin cattle
heat-stunned dull
cud their lives.
Crows nit backs
their call cracks air
then stumbles to a warble
with throats too parched to care.

The jeep juggles a narrow causeway
heat-limp hands greet our arrival
their saris have eyes, stop sun and flies
hide leprous wounds from flinch
in others eyes.
Men squat in dhotis and shirts
handkerchiefs knot corners of heads
children call 'Aunty, Aunty'
no sense of taint for their future
just laughter.

My room is a string bed, ceiling fan, granite floor
blades beat cool to reach corners
a bucket shower, cold, over raw hole
meshed windows halt flies, give entry
to live drain smells.
We gag, hold cloth under noses.

Days are a medication of slow
Lulled, loose shapes on deep verandahs
we expand sunsets
table tennis follows fire-cooked meals
books read, candles are light.
We edge towards the rains.

It happened like they said.
I was lying on my cot half naked
water coddled the hollow in my chest, hot.
It was raining in the Himalayas.

The sound distant. A roar travelling.
Gods' negatives on the hurl.
We race to the dried rockbank
nothing on the other side
but noise is riding on echoes in our ears.

Fear arrives before the water. 
We stare up at mountains
I have no idea how it will be. But short.
A dirty, yellow trickle as wide as the riverbed seems frivolous
frothed hissing on hot rocks slow motion fast.
The push behind has power,
retched boulders hurtle past to the plains below at sea level.
Massive muddied flow wipes through
the causeway is balsam to breath
one piece at a time broken
concrete slabs of jagged metal
arched like cards to a temple
but a channel made.
River rides its sky.

Sunita, 7, solders herself to me.
We are all transfixed by the chaos
Grover alive with excitement, palsy-bound to wheelchair
but eyes are sparks in his rolling head
and children are springs on screams.

Over so soon, much destroyed, muscles shake.
The force that rearranges land so fast
is humbling in grandeur.
River takes control,
a boundary that cuts and isolates
with ownership of deep clear water.

Boulders took our electric wire and water pipe.
At times men wade the crossing bikes on heads,
mugs collect rain as 'Jungly wallahs'
arrive with snakes and charms.
Heat leaves, river dries to a trickle
lush fades, peace layers valley.
The cold. Then heat will insinuate to a harsh scorch.
Planted, seasons move around me.
All will repeat.

Author’s Bio: Susan Adams, an Australian poet, has been published extensively in anthologies, online, and print literary journals both in Australia and internationally. She has been read numerously on ABC Radio National.  Recent publications have included Eureka Street, Nth Position (UK), Great Works (UK), Eclecticism, Sugarmule (USA), Bacopa (USA), Hecate, Social Alternatives, Ascent Aspirations (Ca), Cordite, The Chaffey Review (USA). She is preparing her first collection.

This piece was written during her year in Dehra Dun, India .

Review on Biography of Desire by Khurshid Alam

Biography of Desire by Adrià Guinart (Review by Khurshid Alam)

Biography of Desire by Adrià Guinart is a genuine voice against sexual assault of all types. What makes the anthology stands out dozens of books with the same concern is the author has not adopted a biased approach by raising voice of female sexual assault but sexual assault of all types, even against the male gender. Biography of Desire is a concoction of experience of sexual assault of the victim himself who happens to be its author. The protagonist in the sleek yet powerful and discerning anthology yells pain suffered at the hand of such a person he should have had no reason to fear from.

The protagonist digs a broken heart who suffered sexual assault at the very hand of his own brother. He stumbles at every corner in the journey of dark life where sexual assault knows no bound, “The crowd, prostituted and slaved,” and even God is dumb in a lost paradise, with no hope of respite. He cautions everyone “Be aware of strangers!” to be safe but soon his belief turns white compelling him to say “Be aware of the known ones!” when he becomes a victim at the hand of his own blood.

The shadows of evil deeds linger in the mind of the victim as he suffered the bad stuff at a very young age. He resorted to his parents to seek compassion but got no healing except the consolatory words. This left him in ‘no-where’ world. The evil memories of torture and treachery are written across the horizon of cold sky without a hope of showers as the sky has gone dry. The protagonist sees his own relation as a ‘chemical hail’. As he grows, his pain stiffens with time, the victim recalls the pain on his body—his breathes are hard, skin bruised—which makes him writhe all his life.

But life is not that cruel, his ‘temporary hell’ is over and the ‘cloud of depression’ disperses. There is a silver line of hope; he yearns for love from his parents. The first hand experience seconds the fact that the accused in sexual assault is generally those who have close proximity to the victims. This angle demands ears.

Title: Biography of Desire
Author: Adrià Guinart
ISBN: 978-1-4478-5219-3

Two Poems by Richard Luftig

Two Poems by Richard Luftig

they are there
        to tell us
that something bigger
        than ourselves
is coming
        up ahead

or around
oxbow bend
        that awaits
then only
        to drop
                unexpected falls.

or maybe it will
        be just
the fast water
        massaging the rocks
smoothed full
        with moss
and time.

but the lessons
        left best
in the guessing.

whatever is
        to come,
this river,
this fast water
has earned
the right
        to survive,

to re- write
        its life
and again,
        to choose

to tell
        it’s future
in any way
that it wills.

I want to be first
to plant my spring garden.
But each spade hole of dirt
fills full of mud and water.
In the tree a blue jay laughs.

Author’s Bio: Richard Luftig is a professor of educational psychology and special education at Miami University in Ohio. He is a recipient of the Cincinnati Post-Corbett Foundation Award for Literature and a semi finalist for the Emily Dickinson Society Award. His poems have appeared in numerous literary journals in the United States and internationally in Japan, Canada, Australia, Europe, Thailand, Hong Kong and India. His third chapbook was published by Dos Madres Press.

The Sacred Laugh by Mohit Parikh

The Sacred Laugh (Short Story) by Mohit Parikh

I looked in her eyes and was trapped, as I so often was.

She stood, statued. Her face radiating energy. Her angelic body in sublime harmony, made me believe in the existence of a Great Designer. Every part of her body in rhythm with the other; each musical note playing independently, yet concordant, forming a divine symphony. The smooth glowing terrain of her face was not disturbed by her nose and eyes, but integrated. Her big eyes opened wide, like a shining gem from a sea shell, and were so cognate to her smile, that the being of one seemed unimaginable without the other. Her smooth, slim hands were folded casually in each others' company but they appeared to be jelled in an alignment. The amble winds made her hair flow gently on her back. Her hair did not resist the flow, but became the flow.

She stood, statued. Her face, radiating energy. I looked at my drawing sheet and compared, then smiled silently at my silly thought.

"It's...", I announced,"'s done."

She came, approaching gaily; her eagerness winning over her fatigue.
I stopped her. "Wait. Promise me you won't laugh when u see it."

"I promise. But is it because I look bad or you draw bad?" The mischief in her eyes told me it wasn't a question, just play. But I forced myself to reply, "Neither."
I let her scrutinize my efforts. The zeal in her eyes gave way to some shock, as she stared at the canvas. "Don't tell me that is me!", she said pointing to the sketch of a man who was admiring the night sky.

"Of course not. Actually...", I said, "that's me."

Amused by my reply, she asked, "Then where am I?"
I knew she would laugh, and I wanted her to. So I reminded her, "You
remember your promise?"

"I do, my lord."

I gathered some courage to get naked, and still be ignored. "That's you", said I, pointing towards the top right of the sheet.

She laughed, I rejoiced. I prayed that time would halt.

"Why do you always play pranks with me?" she complained without complaining at all and went away. When I could no longer descry her, I gazed at my creation. There, amongst the foggy night clouds was a stainless moon, chaste, serene and un-obscured, looking at the distant viewer, and laughing sacredly.

Author's Bio: Mohit Parikh works in a staffing and recruiting firm. He is 25. While he mostly writes short-fiction, he is currently working on a novel about growing up in India, before the information age. All children except one grow up.

Sacred Laugh is a very short story capturing the romance and the naivete of youth. Narrated by a nineteen year old kid (the then age of author) with an artistic bend, the story tries to portray the playful chemistry between its two protagonists. The plot has been kept extremely simple, focusing instead on the tender 'romanticization' of exchanges. The author blogs at

Three Poems by Krishna Keerthi

Three Poems by Krishna Keerthi

Take a Moment
Unlucky were the moments,
That passed away in haste,
Most of them, worth cherishing,
Yet perished in waste.

The world as it seeks,
something new every moment,
But hates to take a peek,
At the happening dents.

There's no one here thinking,
Let living, far off,
Just some living things existing,
Nothing else left on this turf.
Seek something new,
Why not from the old,
And still you'll be surely among few,
Who'd then say, surely it's gold.

Where the world finds thunders,
You could reveal love,
And still make people wonder,
As you did it, but how.

Belief is what you need,
To show the world you can,
Rise up this moment's pride,
To ride your "luck sedan".

Pretty Woman
The one in the lead role,
The saviour of my heart,
To cure, you were here, my soul,
Never will we be apart.

Life's never been so easy,
Neither so confusing,
For the happy smiles we had,
Were always so relieving,
And the tears we had shared,
Everytime had a meaning.

For time as it apppears,
An athlete on a marathon,
Without any end,
Running for that honking horn,
Since our journey started,
Never given it a chance to burn.

For there might once come a time,
Where seconds hold their hands to stop that minute,
And still we won't find the answer,
For the unknown fight of a secret.

To forgive is divine,
As people say,
Don't let go off this heart of mine,
As I pray,
For you've been the one I'd always found so fine,
Do come back once the devil's took it's way,
And we'll walk again those old rains,
With the showers of memories, weighing forever the same.

The Monsoons
Don't know where it started,
As the drained drops in the clouds,
From some unknown place,
By some unknown flames.

Reached out into the skies,
Empty and hollow there above,
Gathered all in thrive,
To get back again.

Showered on to the earth,
Some place unknown,
But deeds onto their minds,
On what had to be done.

Some to drench the thirst,
Some on to the heat-burst,
Some into a puddle,
Together, out in a huddle.

Finding others in a pot,
Of the earth's beauty plot,
Gush together in a flow,
Nothing that could slow.

Rushing through the streams,
Rivers and other means,
Carrying the sweet and pure,
Waters to bring along the lure.

Had it not been for the oceans,
The sweet and pure which were the waters,
Of these raindrops,
Had to be salted for His funs.

Such has been my love to you,
Started out of nowhere,
And reached out to where
It met you, and unknowingly grew.

Then reached out to share,
The beauty found so rare,
Happiness bound with it,
Heart's delight and treat.

Salt could never be sweet,
Beauty, you needn't add to,
Beholds, beneath itself,
Embrace is all you've got to do

Author’s Bio: Krishna Keerthi is doing Electronic and Communication Engineering at TRR Engineering College in Hyderabad. He started writing at the age of 17, while doing his intermediate. His initial interest was with romantic works, but then turned writing all his passion.

Krishna finds that life has become so non-organic in the modern concrete civilisation that people seem to be less reactive to feelings missing the real life. He suggests to take everyone a moment for oneself in Take a Moment. He is dreamy in the bright sunshine in Pretty Woman, and is broken heart in The Monsoon. He posts his works on his blog

Pot of Gold by Ron Felton

Pot of Gold (Poem) by Ron Felton

Yes the panic hit me first when I heard her
Fear taking it’s place at my core
And the tear factory roared into life
I am losing the woman to be my wife
Moments before were full of excitement in me
Wanting to draw even closer to my bride to be
The one who I had always dreamed of
Rejecting me
So much feeling and care lead to numbness
Alone I wandered looking for something to feel
As the tears filled my core
Putting out any flame or pilot light
How can this be right I wonder
That a love so strong has been made weakest
Needing more or less
I search for nothing
And find it here
Loving her so much I allow her to go
Through numbness and torrents of tear
Waiting for what is next
Next to nothing
My rainbow a band of colorless lines
My pot of gold left empty

Author’s Bio: Ron Felton is a writer. This poem is about a romance that seems to have ended for the writer.

Three Poems by David Groulx

Three Poems by David Groulx

The towns people made enough donations
To buy a house with all the ramps and
hallways wide enough for a wheelchair
after he came home from Afghanistan
his arms and legs still there
he was twentythree
It was the least they could do

Crowds gather on the bridges
That cross over the 401
waving flags and saluting
crying even
as the hearse goes by
His mother is not here
They take picture with their phones and sing
Oh Canada
Oh Kandahar
another soldier from across the world
they believe the body inside is a hero
dead soldiers always seem to be
inside is only the torso

Tonight and for the rest of her life
his mother will be without a son

There is a man on my tv
selling holy water
20$ a vial
It will make you rich, it will saaave yur lifea
It will maa-ake miracleaza
These things are not miracles
and I already know
Water is sacred

Author’s Bio: David Groulx was raised in the Northern Ontario mining community of Elliot Lake. He is proud of his Aboriginal roots – his mother is Ojibwe Indian and his father French Canadian.

After receiving his BA from Lakehead University where he won the Munro Poetry Prize. David studied creative writing at the En’owkin Centre in Penticton, B.C. where he won the Simon J Lucas Jr. Memorial Award for poetry. He has also studied at The University of Victoria Creative Writing Program. He has written six poetry books – Night in the Exude (Tyro Publications: Sault Ste Marie,1997); and The Long Dance (Kegedonce Press,2000). Under God’s Pale Bones (Kegedonce Press,2010), A Difficult Beauty is due out in Autumn 2011 (Wolsak & Wynn:Hamilton), Rising A Distant Dawn (BookLand Press:Toronto) is due out in the Spring of 2012 as well as Our Life Is Ceremony (Lummox Press: California).

David is a member of the League of Canadian Poets, as well as a member of The Ontario Poetry Society. He recently won the 3rd annual PoetryNOW Battle of the Bards. His poetry has appeared in a 115 publications in England, Australia, Germany, Austria, Turkey, New Zealand and the USA. He lives in a log home near Ottawa, Canada.

Myth, Folklore and Society by Mariam Karim

Myth, Folklore and Society by Mariam Karim

In an increasingly ‘rational’ world, myth and folklore are seen to be pertinent only in the dominion of religion and in schoolbooks. In Greek society with the arrival of new religions the credibility of the old myths and Gods and Goddesses was diminished and they have been accorded the status of beloved fairy tales. In a country like India religion and mythology are closely interlinked even today and each region has its own myths and beliefs that form an integral part of the cultural, social and even political life of a people. Tales everywhere are considered to play a very important role in the development and sustaining of cultures. The well known writer of folktales and raconteur, Henri Gougaud, says folktales help one to ‘become oneself ‘and to live. It  is interesting also to note that psychologists and theorists of sociocultural evolution maintain that folk and fairy tales, and now our modern folklore of cinema and television help us define our own values and guide us in taking life’s major decisions, especially those pertaining to our emotions. Jungian psychology would explain this through the creation of unconscious psychological patterns or mental archetypes.

The folk tale and often the myth are structured entities and follow a set recognizable path from beginning to end, a typical pattern, for the story to arrive at its culmination. It is significant that the narration and the configuration of the tale are so structured that certain value systems are upheld or critiqued.

According to the Functional Model of the analysis of folk and fairy tales proposed by structuralist Vladimir Propp, there are certain “constants” in a tale and each of these has a “function”. For example the hero, the villain, the danger, the trial etc. The intrigue takes place around the key characters or actors – the hero, the quest, the person who sends the hero on the quest (a person or the desire for a person), the magical supplementary, the adjuvant and so on.

Semiotics theorist A J Greimas’ premise is that the characters take on what he calls an abstract quality, and are no longer concrete actors, but “actants”. At the deepest level, he postulates, under the narrative structures can be found discursive structures, where the opposition or conflict between actants constitutes symbolic oppositions such as life/death, sexuality, power, good/evil etc. (This gives us an insight into the ‘moral’ implication of these tales and the sustaining of values and cultures through them).

One can briefly understand the “actancial” model of Greimas’ analysis in this manner:
  1. Plane of manifestation: STORY
  2. Plane of immanence:
NARRATION-- Narrative structures
SYMBOLISM-- Discursive structures

It is interesting to note the distinction he makes between Story and Narration.

The morphology of the tale, as we can see, takes the typical path in which the dénouement reveals certain truths which allow the reinforcing of particular cultural values. Feminist critique of tales, generally at the discursive level, where the female protagonist or sometimes the sender on the quest is imprisoned by an evil ogre or djinn or witch, and is rescued by the male protagonist, is that they reinforce patriarchal values. The male protagonist has to often kill someone or destroy something in order to succeed in his quest. Cruelty is a male value which is lauded and propagated and is required to prove virility.  (Sometimes Gods replace men: Krishna is frequently seen as a saviour of hapless women following from the rescue of Draupadi at the chirharan scene in the Mahabharata).

Folkloric tales were often oral in nature. Even when translated, like the Panchatantra or the Jataka Tales, their original oral nature can be detected in the many repetitions, which are valuable in creating rhythm and cadence as well as building up suspense while telling a tale aloud. Frequently recurring phrases and motifs were also used in this view. (The onomatopoeic content of the repetitions, however, is likely to be lost in translation). Anthropologists often see, in the recurrent motifs in folk and fairy tales, a way of tracing human migrations and exchanges over centuries. Stories change, names change as they travel from culture to culture but the basic motifs frequently remain, from Norse tales to Deccan tales to African. For example it is fascinating to note that the motif of a bird/animal housing a soul can be found in tales all over the world. The belief in the “external” soul stowed away for safety, populates tales across cultures. Another example is that of the number “seven”, significant in many cultures (seven chakras, seventh heaven, seven seas, seven deadly sins, seven tenets of Islam). Ancient religions also adopted this number: the Egyptians had seven gods, Parsees seven angels, Persians seven sacred horses, and Phoenicians seven mysterious kabiris gods.

Cultural evolution theorists E. B. Tylor and Andrew Lang, however, put forward a theory of ‘parallelism’, and ‘psychic unity’, arguing that ‘several cultural elements evolve in parallel and almost simultaneously in different societies’.

Cinema and television serials, our contemporary tales, also reinforce particular values, which have their base in pre-existing values but have evolved and transformed, integrating global values in an increasingly shrinking world where ‘psychic unity’ is a more believable notion.  Their influence cannot be underestimated. Currently they are helping build into society unconscious psychic dispositions and mental archetypes which may be very difficult to break out of. The shape the world takes on may be due to the unconscious influence of stories we hear on a daily basis, the path they take, and their endings.

  1. Bettelheim, Bruno. The Uses of Enchantment. 1976.
  2. CILF. Clés pour le conte africain et créole. 1986.
  3. Greimas A.J. Sémantique Structurale. 1966.
  4. Propp,Vladimir. Morphologie du conte 1928. Seuil, 1970.
Author’s Bio: Mariam Karim-Ahlawat, a pedagogue of French Language and Literature, a freelance editor, and a writer of fiction for children and adults, was born in Lucknow and educated at the JNU New Delhi and the Sorbonne in Paris.

Her first novel My Little Boat (Penguin India 2003) was nominated for the IMPAC International Award 2005 and the Hutch Crossword Award, second novel The Bereavement of Agnes Desmoulins, longlisted for the Man Asian Prize 2009.

Her first play The Betrayal of Selvamary shortlisted for the Hindu Metro Plus Playwright Award 2010, (and will be performed by Pierrot’s Troupe Delhi), her second play Fractals Search for the Real longlisted for the Hindu Metro Plus Playwright Award 2011.

My children’s musical about street children A Bagful of Dreams will soon be performed in Delhi, produced by Mr. Arun Kapur with music by well known author and musician Peggy Mohan. She has contributed short stories to anthologies such the Siècle 21 (Paris), South Asian Review (University  of Pittsburgh) and Our Voice, the PEN International Women Writers Anthology.

She published her first book of folk and fairy tales for children in 1994 Tales Old and New Harper Collins India. Since then she has published a number of children’s books (Tulika Publishers, Chennai) and contributed to anthologies. These are available in several Indian languages.

She also contributes her writings to different journals, such as the Times of India Pluses, Illuminati (an online Indian journal) and three of her books for children figure among the Best Twenty Reads for World Environment Day on Young India Books.

Review on Pinocchio 3D by David Gallo

Review on Pinocchio 3D by David Gallo

Pinocchio 3D: Collodi’s classic becomes an iPad application!
Here comes the multimedia adventures of the most famous puppet in the world.

“Pinocchio 3D”, iPad application produced by Avagliano Editore (from autumn 2011 on
Apple Store), through illustrations and music especially created, thirteen beautiful
animated scenes, full of details, with surprising characters and evocative setting, still
presents all characteristics of the original novel. But it is eriche by a lot of new involving
occasions to play and interact. This application ,which is unique on the market, offers:
  • Sophisticated 3d scenes – you do not need to use 3d glasses –with particles, shader, animations and physics support
  • “Read to Me” option: you can choose an automatic reading of the whole book
  • Complete customization: you can switch on/off music, sound effects and narrator’s voice
  • Index of scenes and chapters available at any time
  • Wonderful recited narration in English and Italian
  • 10 amazing original soundtracks
  • 23 spectacular, original and interactive illustrations
  • Full interactive scenes, figures, characters and objects
  • 3D engine management app
  • Full and original book text in English and Italian
  • Selection of up to three different colored bookmarks
  • Easy and intuitive interface for navigating the book
The application for iPad "Pinocchio 3D" is designed for users of all ages. Born from the imagination of Carlo Collodi, the world’s most famous fairy tale is in fact a children's book very loved by adults because it represents a colorful metaphor of the life, with its variety of characters and fantastic places.

Tradition and innovation fit perfectly in this product from childhood to adult age to offer timeless emotions.

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