When Editors Are Fearful and Literature is Censored: A Personal Account

 

What is the ultimate duty of a writer, poet, or creator? To remain absolutely honest to their art and thoughts. But when mainstream media houses lose their backbone, they expect creators to compromise their integrity as well.

Recently, an incident occurred with me that forced me to question whether any space is left for free writing in our country.

The Background
The editor of the prestigious media house 'Aaj Tak' requested my daughter Vipin Choudhary  to write a special essay for their upcoming issue. The theme was beautiful and highly relevant— 'Poetry, Technology, and Humanity'. To do full justice to the topic, She reached out to 8 sharp, distinguished poetes/poetesses across India and wove their thoughts into a single compilation.

Anupam Mishra Ji Fanning her daughter Neha

Among these 8 names was Anupam Mishra Ji. She is a brilliant creator. Coincidentally, she happens to be the mother of Neha Bora, who is currently on an indefinite hunger strike at Jantar Mantar against the NEET paper leak scams.

The Editor's Call and Media's Fear
The article was ready and sent for publication. Suddenly, this morning,She received a phone call from the editor. He flatly told Her, "Please remove Anupam Mishra's name and her section from the article."

She was shocked.She asked why. Why censor a literary piece focused entirely on poetry, technology, and human values based on a writer's political or family background? The editor had no logical answer, only an unspoken, haunting fear of the establishment.

What Does This Reflect?
This incident exposes the ugliest truth of today's corporate media:

1.    Intellectual Helplessness: Mainstream editors no longer possess the independence to publish an innocent literary essay if it mentions someone whose family is questioning the system.

2.    Politics Over Art: The worth of a poet's thoughts is no longer judged by her words, but by the protest her family is involved in.

3.    Fear of the Truth: The establishment and its media are so terrified of dissenting voices that they want to silence even their literature.

My Daughter’s Stand
As a writer and a poet,She cannot trade her artistic honesty. This bouquet of thoughts belongs to all 8 poetes/poetesses, and it is complete only with Anupam Ji's words. She will never allow my work to be mutilated out of someone else's political fear.

She has decided not to allow the altered version to be published in 'Aaj Tak'. This piece will very soon be published in its original, unedited form on an independent platform that respects freedom of thought.

Mainstream media may shut its eyes, but in this digital age, truth cannot be blocked. I look forward to your support.

A Hibiscus Bloom and My Mother's Silent Presence: An old photograph... a blooming flower... and memories that still blossom.

 

There is something truly special about watching a flower bloom in your own garden. Every blossom brings a little joy, and every photograph preserves a beautiful memory.

This lovely China Rose (Hibiscus) bloomed in a pot in my courtyard after I had carefully repotted and pruned the plant. Seeing the first bloom after so much care was a rewarding experience. The vibrant red petals and the long, elegant staminal column looked absolutely stunning in the morning light.

Hibiscus Bud

I tried capturing the flower from different angles with my mobile phone. Although these photographs were taken years ago and the camera quality was quite basic compared to today's smartphones, they still hold a special place in my heart. Sometimes, memories matter more than perfect pictures.

Side View of the Bloom

The side view beautifully highlights the long staminal column, while the close-up reminds me how wonderfully nature creates even the smallest details.

Front yard View through the Leaves

Leaf Close-up

What makes these photographs even more precious is that my late mother can be seen in one of them. While I was busy photographing my hibiscus, she quietly stood nearby, watching me with a gentle smile.

Fully Bloomed Hibiscus

My mother had an extraordinary knowledge of plants, flowers, herbs, and their traditional uses. She had inherited this wisdom from her own mother, and throughout her life she lovingly nurtured every plant around her.

Today, whenever I look at these old photographs, I do not see only a beautiful hibiscus. I also see my mother's silent presence, her love for nature, and the memories we unknowingly created together.

Some flowers bloom for a day...

Some memories bloom forever.

A side view to show the long and amazing stamen of the flower.

Every flower in my garden carries a little piece of my mother's love.

Looking back at these photographs, I see much more than a blooming hibiscus. I see my late mother standing quietly at the doorway, watching me as I photographed the flowers I loved. She had a deep affection for plants and an incredible knowledge of nature that she passed on to me without ever teaching it in words. Today, every hibiscus bloom in my garden reminds me of her gentle presence. Flowers may fade, but love and memories never do.🌺

Happy Gardening!

पोली बैग यार्न मैट

भारत में सावन-भादों (जुलाई-अगस्त) की बरसात हर चेहरे पर मुस्कुराहट लेकर आती है। हमारे देश में अधिकतर लोग खेती करते हैं, इसलिए किसानों के लिए समय पर बारिश होना बेहद महत्वपूर्ण है। लेकिन इस सुहावने मौसम के साथ-साथ पर्यावरण की सुरक्षा भी हमारी जिम्मेदारी है। इसी बात को ध्यान में रखते हुए, आइए जानते हैं कि कैसे हम घर पर बेकार पड़े पोली बैग्स को रीसाइकिल करके एक उपयोगी मैट तैयार कर सकते हैं।

नीचे दिए गए चरणों का पालन करके आप बिना किसी खर्च के इस बेहतरीन और टिकाऊ मैट को बना सकते हैं:

पोली बैग यार्न मैट बनाने की विधि

आवश्यक सामग्री

• घर में रिनोवेशन (टाइल, सीमेंट, पेंट आदि की पैकिंग) या अन्य सामान के साथ आए बेकार पोली बैग
• एक बड़ी सुई
• नायलॉन का मजबूत धागा

मैट बनाने के सरल चरण

• पट्टियाँ काटना: सबसे पहले इकट्ठे किए गए पोली बैग्स को साफ करके उनकी $1/2$ इंच चौड़ी लंबी पट्टियाँ काट लें। इसे 'प्लार्न' यानी पोली-बैग-यार्न कहा जाता है ।
• चोटी गूंथना: अब इन कटी हुई पट्टियों में से दो-दो पट्टियाँ एक साथ लेकर उन्हें चोटी की तरह आपस में गूंथते हुए एक लंबी रस्सी तैयार कर लें ।
• आधार तैयार करना: इस बुनी हुई रस्सी में से $10$ इंच का एक टुकड़ा सीधा रखें, जो आपके मैट का केंद्र (बेस) बनेगा ।
• अंडाकार जोड़ना: इस $10$ इंच के टुकड़े के चारों ओर बाकी बची हुई चोटी वाली रस्सी को लपेटते जाएं। बड़ी सुई और नायलॉन के धागे की मदद से इसे आड़ा (horizontal) सिलते हुए अंडाकार रूप में जोड़ते चले जाएं । आड़ा सिलने से मैट में सिकुड़न या बल नहीं पड़ता है ।

बेकार पोली बैग

पोली बैग यार्न मैट

इस मैट के उपयोग और लाभ

• जूते साफ करने में उत्तम: यह प्लार्न थोड़ा सख्त होता है, जिससे बरसात के दिनों में कीचड़ से सने जूतों को साफ करने के लिए यह मैट बेहद उपयोगी साबित होता है ।
• सफाई में आसान: इसे साफ करना बहुत सरल है। शाम को इसे बाल्टी भर पानी में खंगालकर रात भर के लिए टांग दें । प्लास्टिक होने के कारण यह जल्दी सूख जाता है ।
• हाइजीनिक और टिकाऊ: पोली बैग यार्न से बने होने के कारण इसमें नमी नहीं ठहरती, जिससे इसमें किसी भी प्रकार के जीवाणु या बैक्टीरिया पनपने का खतरा नहीं रहता ।
• शून्य लागत: इस शानदार और पर्यावरण-अनुकूल मैट को बनाने में आपका एक भी पैसा खर्च नहीं होता है ।

एक जरूरी संदेश: एक प्लास्टिक पोली बैग को पूरी तरह नष्ट होने में $500$ से $1000$ वर्ष तक का समय लग सकता है । हमारी धरती मां को कूड़ेघर बनने और पर्यावरण को दूषित होने से बचाने के लिए पोली बैग्स को कचरे में फेंकने के बजाय इस तरह रीसाइकिल करें

Since summer is currently in full swing, I came across a Persian blog that I had seen somewhere back in 2006. I looked at it again today and tried some summer drink recipes from it; it felt really nice.

Click the link and peek into it…

Turmeric & Saffron: Iranian Summer Drinks: It's summertime in New York, and most days are hot and humid. One of the best ways to cool off and make the heat more bearable is with r...

XOXO

The Thread of Pain, Memories, and Lifelong Bonds [From the Archives: May 2012]

 Introduction Note for Today's Post

A Note from the Author (July 2026):

I am sharing an excerpt from my personal archives today. This reflection was written in May 2012, just before my dear friend Dr. Malhotra was about to return to me in Hisar in June 2012. Today, as I look back and post this, she is no longer with us in this world. But her memories, her indomitable spirit, and the deep affection we shared remain forever alive in my heart.

When I read the poem written by my daughter for the first time, titled "When Headaches Haunted Like a Ghost," I became nostalgic about my own headaches. And then, quite literally, I developed a severe headache since yesterday. The reason... was perhaps that yesterday, when I went to a neighbor's house to check on the maintenance of a room requested for Dr. Malhotra, the landlady expressed her unwillingness to keep her. This made me anxious, and as a result, a terrible pain started in my head, which remains just as intense even now. Dr. Malhotra served as a doctor for many years at the Chudamani Hospital in Hisar; she is a gynecologist and surgeon. She is now 94 years old. She is a very good friend of mine and wished to stay with me. However, some 5-6 years ago... when she  was helping a doctor couple run a hospital... during those days, she collided with a table and fell. Her hip bone was cracked, and her daughter took her away to Bhopal... since then, she has been there... but every year her phone call kept coming saying, "I am coming," though perhaps her daughter kept restraining her due to her advanced age... but this time she has arrived... at present, she is with her brother in Delhi.... When my daughter, Vipin Choudhary, went to visit her at her brother's house, she told me, "Mummy, I felt like crying looking at her, she has become very weak..." Her niece told her, "I will get her ears treated and then send her to your house in Hisar..."

The Truth of Life in the Mirror of Poetry

This poem written by my daughter, Vipin Choudhary, is not just a title; it is a complete, profound saga. That pain, which once belonged to my grandmother, Samakaur, eventually reached me, and my children would try to soothe it by pressing my forehead with their tiny palms. These lines from the poem shake one to the core:

"Years later, it was revealed

That the notorious headache was nothing else,

But the sharp knot of an unresolved, mismatched relationship with the father..."

Only the vision of a writer and the sensitive heart of a daughter can perceive where a physical illness intertwines with the soul and the friction of relationships. That sharp knot of a mismatched relationship untied with time, and the pain vanished somewhere far away. Yet, the memories endure.

An Intimate Hesitation and Waiting

When a stranger reads such a deeply personal post, it is natural to feel a momentary shiver of hesitation or vulnerability. But the truth is, the pain and affection embedded in this entire account are universal. The tears that welled up in my daughter's eyes upon seeing Dr. Malhotra's frailty, and her niece’s reassurance that she will send her back to us in Hisar after getting her ears treated—all of this proves that despite all hardships, care, love, and human bonds remain alive in this world.

Now, I eagerly await the completion of her ear treatment so that I can bring her back to my home in Hisar. As soon as she arrives, the courtyard of old memories will blossom with joy once again. This will not only be healing for her health but will also forever soothe the deep anxiety and old headache residing in my own heart.

Below is the original Hindi poem by Vipin Choudhary that inspired these reflections:

जब प्रेत की तरह आता था सिर-दर्द

विपिन चौधरी

हम दोनों भाई-बहन का बचपन युवावस्था के कई क़दम नीचे था

और माँ इतनी युवा थी कि

कायदे से उस पाक अवस्था में

किसी भी दर्द को एक माँ के करीब आते हुए भी डरना चाहिए था

पर दर्द समेत चमड़े के जूतों के

आता था

और सीधा सिर पर वार करता था

माँ सिर-दर्द के कोड़ों से बचने को

करवटे बदलती

सिर पर दुपट्टे को कस कर बाँधती

ढेरों कप चाय पीती

और दर्द को दूर धकेलने की

नाकाम कोशिशों के बाद थक कर

सो जाती

हम बच्चे थे

इस स्थिति में

अपने छोटी हथेलियों से माँ का सिर दबाना ही जानते थे

घड़ी भर सिर दबाते-दबाते

वहीं माँ के अगल-बगल झपकियाँ मारते नींद में लुढ़क जाते

कुछ सालों बाद जब माँ के सिर का दर्द बूढा हो गया

तब उसने माँ का पिण्ड छोड़ा और

बरगद की जमींदोज़ जड़ों के नज़दीक

अपना बुढ़ापा काटने चला गया

कई सालो बाद मालूम हुआ

सिर का वह बदमाश दर्द कुछ और नहीं

पिता से माँ के अनसुलझे-बेमेल रिश्ते की पैनी गाँठ थी

यक़ीनन पिता से वह बेउम्मीदी वाले कच्चे रिश्ते के दूर जाने की साथ ही

वह बूढा दर्द भी कहीं नरक सिधार गया होगा

एक कच्ची-पक्की सीख के साथ कि

बेमेल रिश्ते के छोटे से छेद में घुस कर

एक दर्द अपना आसानी से अपना घर बना सकता है

source: 

1. https://www.pachnadapoetry.com/poem/p_94d6bf8891a9

2.https://www.hindisamay.com/content/1123/1/--.cspx

XOXO