Now/here no/where woman

Much better than the vapid Wyeth models they put on the pregnancy notebooks that doctors hand out to patients.

"The 99" is a comics series about a group of Islamic superheroes that embody the 99 attributes of Allah . Author Naif Al-Matuwa created the series as a symbol of toleration. The series' biggest critics are not Islamic clerics, but conservative Americans. The more they protest it's appearance on the American comics market, the more I want to read it! Anybody have a copy?

A fish tail addresses my favorite Tito, who loves to cook: “I see you have fine knives here. Quite a kitchen you’ve got, sir, quite a kitchen. And those scissors – so strong! If I were you, I’d use them to cut off that ponytail. Doesn’t it bother you, the way it swings around while you move from pot to pot, seasoning, stirring, and tasting? A ponytail is not like a fish tail, sir. A man or a woman is perfectly fine without one but a fish without a tail is a dead fish and I don’t say that just because I wound up here with a dead fish – my dead fish, that is to say. Sniff. “Imagine a fish swimming in the sea without its tail. It wouldn’t even be swimming. It would be flapping about gracelessly, towards a slow and painful death. Can’t imagine what that’s like? Well I can tell you sir, it’s a far uglier sight than a splintered sailboat in rough waters. And to fish, a sailboat is an ugly thing to begin with, but not as ugly as boats with engines. Not only are boats with engines monstrous

One of the perils of freelance writing is that by the time the editors (well-meaning, I'm sure) are done bending your words to their needs, you may no longer recognize what you wrote; you may not even wish to have your name attached to the transmogrified piece of crap (which, admittedly, may not have been so great in the first place), and to make things worse, you get paid peanuts for it. Sigh. Although I try, cultivating a stance of gratitude -- for getting published, for bylines, for getting paid at all -- sometimes feels disgustingly close to martyrdom, which was never my cup of tea. Let them do what they want with my body and soul? No effing way. And yet, more often than not, I relent. I don't even know whether I can choose otherwise. This hack is now accepting suggestions for a nom de guerre. This could be fun. And yes, this is war.

Home-baked bread fresh out of the oven never fails to arouse my maternal instincts. It takes all my self-control to keep from snatching up a warm loaf of bread, cradling it like a baby in my arms, resting my cheek against its delicious-smelling skin, and inhaling deeply. This never fails to disgust people who want to eat the bread. I want to first love the bread and then eat it. So I'm weird that way, but these moments of consummated food-love are a little bit of heaven on earth.

"9.8.2031/12:30 pm/66℉ read the signboard at Chunzom. Beep!!! The alarm on the gate rang as the bus passed by the laser lights." So begins the short story Yellow Behind the Numbers, which is quite possibly the first ever piece of Bhutanese science fiction by Sippy Das. The story appears in the book November Light, an anthology of creative writing "produced by the 2010 cohort of students on the course English 202 module ('Creative Writing: Fiction and Non-Fiction') at the Royal Thimph College , Bhutan."   What is remarkable about this collection is that "English 202" is the first, and so far the only, university-level creative writing course in Bhutan. And so to read November Light is to look into the psyche of young Bhutanese minds that are discovering “the joys of creative expression – reading, writing, being read – as a way of making meaning,” as put by their young professor, Dr. Nitasha Kaul , a Kashmiri woman who has done e

After lunch, three authors who have written extensively about food sat down together onstage to talk about food and their books on food. The moderator was Mita Kapur who launched her book The F-Word in Lit Out Loud , the first Manila International Literary Festival held last year. Her literary agency Siyahi is the principal organizer of Mountain Echoes . Kunzang Choden spoke of the food of Bumthang, Central Bhutan. In her book, Chili and Cheese: Food and Society in Bhutan, she combines the history and culture of Bhutan with traditional recipes and her own experience of growing up in Bumthang. She told of how, when she was a child, she would go into the blue pine forests with her family and friends where they would cut off the bark of the trees and eat the white, jelly-like sap just underneath the bark. She said it was sweet, like sugar. Nowadays the government has prohibited collecting the sap because stripping the bark kills the trees so this "taste of home" r

When we were in Paro I picked up a book in the hotel lobby to read in our room. In the introduction, Kunzang Choden wrote: "In the Bhutanese tradition, stories, fables, and legends are not told but are unraveled ( shigai in Bumthangka) and released ( tangshi in Dzongkha)... It means that storytelling is a continuous process (unraveling) and to be released stories must be alive and vibrant." The folktales of Bhutan, like folktales from anywhere in the world, are full of mischief, foolishness, wisdom, kindness, magic, spirits, animals, and village folk. I enjoyed reading the stories in Kunzang Choden's collection and was excited to see that she would be launching two children's books at the Mountain Echoes Literary Festival . I fervently hoped that I would be able to meet her and bring back some of her books for Mt Cloud Bookshop . On the first day of the festival, we entered the venue which was almost packed and looked around for seats. A Bhutanese woman off

I have never heard someone speak about any living creature with as much passion as Valmik Thapar when he speaks about tigers. You can see for yourself below. Listening to him at the Mountain Echoes Literary Festival I got the feeling that he could be speaking about something as mundane as plastic forks and he still would have held his audience in rapt attention. The full show can be seen here . The host, Sunil Sethi , was also present at the literary festival. His literary tv show, Just Books, is a great success in India. He recently launched a book on the tv interviews he has had with well known authors. Valmik Thapar first saw a tiger in the wild in Ranthambore , "where tigers live in the ruins of ancient palaces." Since then he has dedicated his life to the conservation of the tiger in India. He stated earnestly (and angrily) that while Bhutan has Gross National Happiness India is experiencing the effects of Gross National Horrors, especially in terms of the decl

In the second panel of the Mountain Echoes Literary Festival here in Thimphu, Devdutt Pattanaik and Tshering Tashi discussed how myth and belief continue to be an important part of our so-called modern (post-modern or postmodern, if you prefer) lives. Devdutt Pattanaik is the Chief Belief Officer of the Future Group. Yes, believe me, that's his title. He has written several books on Indian mythology, including an illustrated retelling of the Mahabharata. spoke of the differences between believing you have only one life to live, and believing that this is just one of many lives you have lived and will live. "When you believe in rebirth, you don't have a sense of urgency. Things will happen... eventually." Tshering Tashi writes for the Bhutanese, government-owned, English newspaper, Kuensel and is the co-author of Bold Bhutan Beckons. He spoke of how myths and magic are not only part of Bhutan's history, but also of everyday life.

Her Majesty, the Queen Mother, Ashi Dorji Wangmo Wangchuck was the first speaker of the 2011 Mountain Echoes Literary Festival . Her session was held this morning, in conversation with the Indian ambassador to Bhutan, Pavan Varma, himself a writer . He began by asking her why she undertook a 17-day journey across Bhutan on foot, which she later wrote about in Treasures of the Thunder Dragon, her second book. She replied by explaining that her children had left to study abroad when she was in her early 40's(!) and so she had a lot of time on her hands. "I thought it was necessary -- very necessary -- to experience the everyday life of the communities." So she carried her own load of personal belongings and accompanied by a small party of companions, she set off on this journey. She decided that they would not bring any tents because they would seek shelter with the people wherever they found themselves. Once, she said, they sheltered under a tree. Each day she walk

When most people go to worship or meditate in the churches, mosques, temples, or zendos of their choice in order to address their God in heaven or the God within, I get on my bicycle and venture out on a long ride with a circle of loved and trusted friends. Good friends, good laughs, beautiful Yabnong and Ugo trails, great ride. It may seem like we're having too much fun swooping down a heavenly single track trail; we may appear to be overly obsessed with proving a macho point by pedaling hard up a steep climb; or, as often happens, we come across as just plain idiotic and irreverent when we're clowning around during rest stops. But when we cycle far enough away from our daily lives I believe we are gifted, in one moment of pedaling, with a flash of oneness with the world at large. I feel completely present in one place, in that time, in my body, in that one revolution of the pedals. When that happens, I remember how small I am in the grand scheme of things. A dot on

I have a five-step plan for beating the blues out of this drab Monday that is stretched out before me like an old, dusty, stinky, worn-out carpet. Step 1. Coffee Step 2. Writing. Step 3. Hot shower. Step 4. Get the errands out of the way. (Sigh. I hate this part, but I must.) Step 5. Go and be alone with a book somewhere I won't have to talk to anybody. Today's pick is Nomad's Hotel by Cees Nooteboom, who writes: "A way is away." Indeed. Now I shall get on with Step 3 and warily watch life get in the way of my plans.