Dr. Rashmi Malhotra Birth Education : 15th February 1946, Delhi MA, PHD, M.Litt from Delhi Profession University Teaching Hindi in Jesus & Mary College, New Delhi, Voluntary (Self or pre matured) retirement Published Works: Twenty two Poetry collections, nine non- hindi poetry collections (English, Punjabi and Urdu), three edited poetry collections, three children's poetry collections, seven short story collections, seven non hindi short story collections (English, Punjabi and Urdu), two edited ones short stories collections, sixteen hindi and non- hindi novels (English, Punjabi, Urdu and Marathi), four Criticism + Samagra, four essays and general knowledge collections, three Edited Essays collections and six Literary and arts collections.
Mrs. Pravesh DhawanBirth: 9th March, 1945 in Khankhasha (now in Pakistan) Education B.Sc. from Delhi University Work: Voluntary retirement from an MNC. Free Lance Writer. Besides Hindi, writes in Punjabi, English and Urdu. Taken part in various poetry sessions. Her creations keep on being published in various megazines. Published Books: 1. Sagar, Lehren aur Bhanwar (2007) Poetry, 2. Vakt Ka Behta Darya (2009) Poetry, 3. Pani Ke Bulbule (2011) Stories, 4. 'Dhalta Suraj, Chharta Chand Sher-o-Shairi (Under publication) Translation: From Hindi into English -1. 'Endless Journey of Life' - short stories, 2. 'Forging Ahead' - An autobiography of a writer Shaired Publication: 'Parichay Rag III' (2011)-Short Stories, 'Hindi Ki Charchit Kaviyatriyan (2009)-Poetry book, 'Naye Hastakshar (2007)-Poetry book, 'Swaran Jayanti Gaurav' (2006), 'Srijan Ke Jharokhe Se' (2001), 'Smritiyon Ke Jharokhe Se'-A memoir- Under Publication. Honors Honoured by Smt. Vimla Sharma, the First Lady of India in 1996. Appreciation Letter of Akshram Mahadevi Verma in 2008, Honoured by Narayani Sahitya Academy in 2011 Association: Hindi Akhil Bhartiya Sanstha, Richa; Lekhika Sangh, Ham Kalam, Parichay and Swant Sukhai Mahila Manch of Rajasthani Academy.
One must tread the corridor of one's reminiscences with utmost care otherwise there is a chance of entanglement in the thorny bushes. Sometime sharp-edged stones prick and sometime mist spreads before the eyes while walking bare-foot, resulting in a shiver which shocks the whole body...... Tears stand still in the eyes and left behind, far behind... are the enraging moments of the past. Complete silence prevails over heart. A throbbing pain erupts. Loneliness surrounds and a sob breaks out from the lips. Heart craves to share all those moments with someone at once. To come out of the pensive mood, I pick up a pen and spill my feelings out on a paper to get some relief. Only then I can live on, otherwise, I will go out of my mind. According to me, this is the only way to save myself from solitude and that is what I do. To absolve myself from suffering due to internal contradictions and craving for penning down the same with sincerity, I get busy in creative writing. For this reason, the mode of autobiography writing is the best way. Actually autobiography is such a class of writing in which a writer die and reborn many a times in one life. In fact I can say that the phase of childhood stays for long in the life of a person as this is that age when brain is fresh and original like a mud pitcher and whatever is fed in to it, its memories last long with him. Autobiography keeps on uniting outer and inner worlds and goes on unfolding his personality as also of others. This not only exposes naked truth of an age but brings to light its ugly and deformed side also. I wish to write my biography with a tone sometime of irony or like irrelevancy of sharp edged knife destroying everything around to make it uncommon among common autobiographies. In the process of writing about my successes and failures, I wish to protect my life values and spill out my inner self even at the cost of breaking and reforming myself repeatedly. It is but natural that I will have to bear the pain of reopening many of my wounds. Still, the satisfaction which I will achieve will be sweet like honey. Whenever I passed through a difficult time, I received encouragements from all around which gave me desired buckup. I do not feel bad of this life as I lived a full life. I lived every moment thoroughly and drank every drop of the nectar of life in the form of dew drops of my breath. I wrote word for word, sometime in detail and sometime in short, my varied experiences of life with the ink of my breaths on the pages of my life. On going through it, some became my confidants while some turned my enemies. Those who appreciated my truthfulness, started walking besides me to understand it while those who could not, they drifted away and pin pricked me with sarcasm throughout life. They took my truth as false.
But I have always wished from the depths of my heart that if I take birth again, it should be as a writer only. Perhaps I have already completed my full life cycle - but we cannot say this. Though a writer tells about the miseries of mankind through his writings yet he does take the risk to call a spade a spade. It is due to the circumstances or the environments around him that give birth to any difficult situation. Those environments can also not be ignored. A writer keeps hiding in him the sorrows which are intolerable. The day I opened eyes on this earth, fortunately or unfortunately, it was the date on which the famous poet Galib left for heavenly abode - 15th February, 1946. It seems that his and my soul must have had some connection. That is why his misery became mine. The same pain continued to be my companion throughout my life.
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