Month: Aug 2020

The Deadliest Contagion

My Article published in DOVE TALES: LITERARY JOURNAL OF THE ARTS

Pic: DoveTales Journal Resistance/ Summer Edition Aug 2020


The Deadliest Contagion: writing for peace, rayla noel:

That first time I watched ‘Gandhi’, one scene followed me out of the theater door: the one with native police and advancing marchers. Row after row, they went down battered and bloodied, and not one of them raised an arm in defense.  Martin Luther King Jr.  said it was this Salt March movement that deeply influenced his own philosophy of civil disobedience. Gandhi’s handful of salt at Dandi would change the way we read Resistance.

Shifting Plates

When I was 8 years old we lived in a rental home next to land lady Vanima’s cottage

She wore a 7 yard sari and gold anklets to underline her ‘high’ caste. How we even got to rent their place beats me, but if our shadow so much as fell across them on certain nights/days there was serious ritual cleansing that followed. Vanima would chant out loud, cover her head, and slam her front door against ills that might arrive at her from us. My mother was a teacher and my father worked a few miles away in a coastal town we visited every weekend, but on week days we had to brave our new address. Both our front steps ran together. Curiously, we shared the same walls and well—the projecting concrete brickwork over the top of well just about covered her face from ours. It was ridiculously awkward…...read more

The Deadliest Contagion https://writingforpeace.org/rayla-noel/

Developing empathy and peaceful activism through creative writing

Oil Painting : Shalom https://writingforpeace.org/rayla-noel-2/

Dovetales Journal online

 

https://writingforpeace.org/nonfiction-2/

   

 



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I respect you..

…your time here, your life; it maybe far different from mine, yet here for a breath we meet, brothers / sisters in a time like ne’er before…

I respect that your presence, your heart is the physical manifestation of God; we are so alike, we are different but alike in ways too many to not remember. I respect that we walked this year together, torn, mended, healing, broken, like dawns and dusks, we like oceans and shore lines .. crashing building castles; our prints settle in an earth in a time we will never forget. We may never meet but we have, here, now, this new day. And I stare at these lines that spill me to a person I might hear from, I might not. I stare at all this with respect.

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