IN MEMORIAM
This website is dedicated to a very special person in my life, my mother. She a real martyr against intense prejudice. She is the reason why I exist.
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About my work
My work is inspired by the writings of, among others, Raymond Chandler and F Scott Fitzgerald. I began my creative work with writing song lyrics. In the 1980's I gained an A Level in English, and then turned my attention to poetry and short stories. Then I began to read the novels of Raymond Chandler and the short stories of Ellery Queen, and Alfred Hitchcock as well as others such as Hemingway as well as a vast number of Victorian novels.
I won a runner up prize for an essay on Peace in the early 1980's and launched my writing work with the motivation gained by this prize.
I got a favourable comment from a professional writer for a poem on the Virgin Mary and a four star rating for a short story entitled Danger Zone on a website entitled writing.com. This helped me gain enormous confidence in writing.
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About me:
Born in Nairobi, Kenya I had to leave my
homeland (my natural mother was a coastal Kenyan) in 1969 at the age of
16. I stayed for a brief period in
Nigeria at the time of the civil war. I
also stayed in Jamaica for about four years.
My father (of Iranian origin) had gained a teaching contract there at a
High School. My brief stay in Nigeria
was my first close hand experience of civil war.
I came to Reading UK in 1974, and have lived
here ever since. I am qualified in AAT
Accounts at Technician Level, although my work was in customer service.
Other than accounts, I am also schooled in
Literature. This includes course credits
in The Bronte’s, Shakespeare as well as in Literary Theory, gained from Oxford University at their Continuing Education department.
I currently write short stories and also have
an ongoing project for book length fiction.
The novel that is being prepared is a literary novel, and one of the
themes is on domestic violence.
I began with writing crime fiction, as a result
of reading a lot of this type of genre; my favourites are still Raymond
Chandler, Dorothy L Sayers, and the Alfred Hitchcock mysteries. I now write literary fiction as a result of a
fondness for the fiction writings of F Scott Fitzgerald, and recently William
Faulkner. I also sometimes still write crime fiction.
Furthermore, I write some poetry. My poetry has mainly been “message” poetry
concerning social issues, but recently I have broadened my scope to write with three
types of poetic structure with a few different genres.
Occasionally I write non-fiction essays. However, the vast majority of these essays
are my political views written from a Marxist perspective.
I am currently a member of The Writers Guild.
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Photographs-Cambridge
The above photographs were taken in the city of Cambridge, UK.
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B
When I arrived at the College campus, at the University of Cambridge, I was quite intrigued by the statues at the front entrance to Churchill College. The statues were modern but at the same time were not vulgar or offensive.
When I checked in at the Porter's office, the Porter who checked my documents honestly thought I was a foreign student from overseas. It took a slight bit of persuasion to convince him I am normally resident in Berkshire.
The porter provided accurate information as to how to get to my room where I was to stay for my holiday at the Campus grounds. It seems they were confident of my ability to concentrate.
Throughout my holiday in the University I enjoyed the prices and the quality of the meals, the designs and paintings hung on the walls, and the large college campus grounds.
I also made the acquaintance of one or two College professors.
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The City of Cambridge
Located at the back of a main shopping centre, the central library has some very good computers with powerful processors, and is well lit and well furnished.
The cafes and restaurants are somewhat expensive, though they provide value for money. As I expected, the Italian restaurants are overly generous with the amount provided for each meal purchased.
The transport to and from Churchill College was not as frequent as I had hoped. Nevertheless, the citilink buses are very affluent in the interior.
The city centre has two main shopping plazas, each bigger than the Oracle and Broad Street Mall in Reading.
I was struck by the number of city parks, all larger than I had expected.
Most of the other University Campuses are in the city centre and I enjoyed taking snapshots of them with my digital camera.
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The picture above is of one of the Cambridge University Colleges.
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This sculpture was photographed on the Churchill College campus. It struck me as new and innovative. Simple in design, it symbolises some interesting geometric concept. It took some time for me to appreciate the skill behind the statue, not being an artist myself.
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From the Briefcase:
Poetry
The Rent
Damp is returning. I’m frowning
Seeking work, nothing coming Funds are low, the bank
Threatens more and more
With no one else to help
I’m trembling more and more
I’ve got to do something now
I’ve spent lots on education
To feed my intellect
Make my skills perfect
Spending plenty cash on food
Going here and there for a job
Rejections arrive by the score
Emptiness in my flat, my home
Bitterness cuts me to the bone
I’ve got to do something now
That clock looks shining
Clean, gold plated. Looks new
I ought to sell it. Pawn it
For many a dollar, not few
It’s getting late. I should rush
Almost sold it, face is in a flush
I’ve got to do something now
© “The Rent” by
Hasan Abdulla, 07/2016
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Poem:
A Delicate
Being
Why is everybody picking on me? Always The teacher is hollering, shouting
“Why can’t you learn. Why don’t you see?
The answers are messy, and lacking
In any sense I can imagine”
Could someone please ask him
Why is everybody picking on me?
Going home on a summer stroll
Boy, it could have been fun
Soon the heat, took its toll
I hear a loud shotgun
I run for life, run for shelter
I bump into a police officer
He arrests me on the spot
I tell him, I’m drunk because it’s hot
Why is everybody picking on me
In the prison cells so tough
These jailbirds look rough
I take the medicine I’m given
Then released, and forgiven
Back home in his nest
A robin alone in his nest
To isolate him is a crime
We are two of a kind
Why is everybody picking on me?
© “A Delicate
Being” by Hasan Abdulla
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This is where I sometimes visit Oxford for lectures. This is a location of a division of Oxford University for the not so young.
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An Evening
Rendezvous
Strolling along the river
Blue rippling waters, white swans
Floating downstream, together
In pairs. Warm sun on my cold arms
You were walking with caution
Sombre, attentive for any sign
My heart swelled with emotion
Looking at your solitude, like mine
We walked across each other
Yet managed only a smile
For a moment, I felt warmer
But we drifted apart, for a while
We come and go, with scarce a word
A love affair, few have ever heard
© “An Evening
Rendezvous” by Hasan Abdulla, 07/2016
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Dream Girl
I’m floating as in a dream
Scents of rose blossoms, everywhere
She appears, my beauty queen
Like a mirage. Then she will
disappear
She haunts my night, my day
I hear her words of love
All along life’s lonesome highway
She remains my golden dove
She stands by me, all along
All through the days, and years
With her, I have no fears
My princess; she does no wrong
Yet all through please understand
She’s an image in a foreign land
© “Dream Girl” by Hasan
Abdulla, 07/2016
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Sailboat
The sailor, opening his drink
Sips his bottle of soda, he’s thinking
About a sailboat he had seen sink
Gazing at the sunset, he’s mourning
Remembers the parties on the boat
Always it sailed, always afloat
Pangs of sorrow, that are emerging
The sailor, opening his drink
Looks back at the past
Some things would always last
Tries not to be pitying
Sips his bottle of soda, he’s thinking
Of many an ocean liner
Yet none lovely and finer
Remembers as he takes his drink
About a sailboat, he had seen sink
The coast was warm that day
Strong winds blew its way
The sailboat drowned. Remembers
sombrely
Gazing at the sunset, he’s mourning
© “Sailboat” by
Hasan Abdulla, 07/2016
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A Day at
Work?
On a bright Sunday morning
Opening a door to a garden
The sun is hot, and rising
The flowers bloom everywhere
And church bells are chiming
On a bright Sunday morning
Life is still a burden
Going out today to work
Opening a door to a garden
The morning is long and tiring
With lunch, sipping a cold lemonade
The sun is hot, and rising
© “A Day at Work?”
by Hasan Abdulla, 07/2016
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The River
Nile
By the waters of the Nile
Quiet, calm and serene
I paused to rest awhile
In an oasis of evergreen
Along the river flowing gentle
Watching the dhows glide
I felt of a stronger mettle
And I felt a peace inside
Watching the ripples of the water
Eating the fruit of dates
Warm and content, and later
Returning to the hotel gates
The sun slowly set, all the same
Nightfall came, a soft spell
The morning after, the time
For the return flight then came
Looking back and I mourn
The loss of that sojourn
© “The River Nile” by Hasan Abdulla, 09/2016
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Travel Notes
A Dream Destination
A Visit to Cambridge
A
On the 6th of July this year, 2012, I went to the Railway Station in Reading to start a journey to one of my dream destinations, namely Cambridge. It would be the first train ride for several years, the previous one being to London. I reached an excessively busy platform where trains were arriving and leaving for Paddington, London every ten minutes or so. Not having travelled by rail for some years, I did not realise I had to change stations at Paddington for Kings Cross. As a result I faced a delay of some hours before finally heading off for Cambridge where the famous University is located.
At my arrival at Paddington Station, I thought I would be able to take a British Railways train or at least a shuttle to Kings Cross. I had forgotten and indeed was disappointed at having to use the London Underground just to change to the Kings Cross Station. After all, it had been such a long time since I travelled by rail.
When I arrived at Kings Cross station I was impressed by the size, aspect and the neatness of the station, notwithstanding the fact that the station was being refurbished. I took the first direct train to Cambridge and I enjoyed the ride.
The train ride to Cambridge was more than adequate compensation for the inconvenience of changing stations from Paddington to Kings Cross.
As the train rode along the tracks towards the city of Cambridge, I looked out and saw the gently sloping countryside with its alpine green vegetation, some small villages, and clusters of dark green trees dotted around the landscape. It became clear to me why the environmental campaigners have such a deep passion for their overall objectives.
When I arrived at the Cambridge Central Railway Station, it was different to what I had imagined, and instead was a very open aired, well maintained railway station.
After checking out, I was skeptical at first about taking a taxi, but was lucky enough to meet a taxi driver who was efficient and reliable, and did not underestimate his fare charge.
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C
On the day of my return journey, I woke up exceptionally early and checked in at the Porters office to leave. However he persuaded me to wait and have breakfast before leaving to which I reluctantly agreed. After having breakfast in the usual dining hall, I headed off for the city centre by bus to the rail station.
On reaching the city centre I decided I would go straight to the Railway Station instead of lingering around first in the shopping area.
I boarded a busy train to Kings Cross which was rather crowded.
After changing at Kings Cross to Paddington Station, I boarded the train to Reading. On reaching Reading itself, I was confronted with the same usual noises of traffic and road repairs, and once again settled for the idea that "now I found that the world is round, and of course it rains every day." (as sung by the Bee Gees).
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Poem:
Summertime
Wheat grows high; golden brown
Warm winds on the prairie
Like caresses of nature’s hands
Sunshine glows on the lands
The cotton buds in bloom
Gaiety in each house, each room
Flowers grow bright and colourful
Gone are the gremlins, no more trouble
Skies of blue, clear and light
A canopy of pure delight
Children playing, old men singing
While my banjo is playing
Country roads, quiet and serene
Green grass, trees full of leaves
With birds and nests; like a dream
And the best that’s ever been
© “Summertime” by Hasan Abdulla, 09/2016
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Poem:
A Lone
Romeo
No man is an
island
We need not
walk alone
The sages
will often say.
No one is a
loser
We need not
be forlorn
The poets
will sing away
I’m still
looking for my love
Don’t put
all hopes
On a green
willow tree
The sages
will often say
Just learn
the ropes
And climb to
her side
The poets
will often sigh
But wishes
are like unicorns
So many
obstacles, many thorns
I’m still
looking for my love
All that
glitter is not like gold
Appearances
are deceptive
The sages
will often say
Be yourself,
and be true
Love her if
she loves you
The poets
will always say
I’m still
looking for my love
© “A Romeo”
by Hasan Abdulla, 09/2016
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Along the river, a view from a bridge in Cambridge, United Kingdom
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Works in Progress
Current available
story submissions:
The Rally
This short story centres on the theme best depicted in the words of the
French philosopher Montesquieu when he referred to lust and its violent
consequences as “the silent crime”.
The location is set in Marseilles, France although most of the story is
outside the motor rally stadium.
(Furthermore, some of the characters are not of French origin.)
This story belongs to the crime fiction genre.
For further details about this short story please contact me at:
Stormabdul99@hasanmgm.net
Defiance
This short story is set in 1950's United States. It is about two University Graduates, both of the same family, who become involved politics due to a careless outburst of speech by the younger brother. While they are being subjected to a witchunt, a refugee from Europe becomes attracted to left wing ideology, and is the only witness who can testify in favour of the two brothers. At the last moment, the refugee, an orphan saves their lives.
For further details please contact me at
stormabdul99@hasanmgm.net
The Scholars
The location setting for this short story is New Haven, USA. This story is about the lack of coming of age rather than becoming more mature. The theme
of the story is inspired and contained in the famous quote by Rousseau:
“Man is born free and everywhere he is in chains.”
Lorenzo, a graduate of Italian origin, arrives at a reunion party where
he looks forward to some enjoyment.
Things go unexpectedly wrong when he attracts the attention of a former
female classmate. She is a young widow,
but the risk is that she has a weakness for alcohol. To add to his problems,
she has a jealous admirer, also a former classmate.
To be
followed by:
Danger Zone
Danger Zone was first written in early 2006, and the setting for the
story is Londonderry, Ulster (Britain).
This story, a semi-thriller, is planned for rewriting and editing due to
the many inconsistencies in its initial form.
The story’s theme is centred on the harsh conditions experienced by
those in poverty, especially the unemployed.
As such there is scarce mention of the sectarian disputes and violence
that has plagued Northern Ireland. Thus,
in place of the story being a political thriller, the theme is based on the
very well-known proverb:
“What you sow you reap” and the antagonist that sows so much hatred and
pain faces a bitter end.
Important Update on "Danger Zone":
The location for this story has now been changed to London although the theme of poverty has been kept. The motive behind this is that I have had the opportunity to visit London and have lived there for short periods in my past.
The Interns
This short story project is due to begin as soon as the rewriting of
Danger Zone is completed.
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More Poems:
A Flight
Rome, capital of Italy
Flying there on a plane
Away from life so lonely
I’ll go where stops the pain
For I love with strong passion
A dark eyed glamorous girl
I love her with strong devotion
Stronger than stones of pearl
The departure lounge is restive
My heart is light, festive
Flying to Rome, to Italy
So ends a life of drudgery
Away from cloudy skies; persistent rain
To be with the light of my life again
© “Excursion” by
Hasan Abdulla, 07/2016
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Condor
A condor, flying; cruising across the sky
Gigantic; searching for fertile pasture
Majestic; to vie with, we can only venture
Across the Orinoco, and the Atacama
Over the Andes; Only it knows why
A condor, flying; cruising across the sky
Long is the journey to travel
The mysteries, it can unravel
Gigantic; searching for fertile pasture
At long last, it’s journey’s end
Fertile pasture, as only God can send
Majestic; to vie with, we can only venture
© “Condor” by
Hasan Abdulla, 07/2016
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Summertime
Wheat grows high; golden brown
Warm winds on the prairie
Like caresses of nature’s hands
Sunshine glows on the lands
The cotton buds in bloom
Gaiety in each house, each room
Flowers grow bright and colourful
Gone are the gremlins, no more trouble
Skies of blue, clear and light
A canopy of pure delight
Children playing, old men singing
While my banjo is playing
Country roads, quiet and serene
Green grass, trees full of leaves
With birds and nests; like a dream
And the best that’s ever been
© “Summertime” by Hasan Abdulla, 09/2016
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Spring
There are flowers everywhere
Fresh, milder breezes blow
Spring is here; magic in the air
Bluebells, daffodils and delphiniums
Roses, water lilies and rhododendrons
There are flowers everywhere
Winds are calmer, and warmer
Melting away the ice and snow
Fresh, milder breezes blow
Expressions of delight, and relief
In the hearts of people, the belief
Spring is here; magic in the air
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