# Sediments of Silence

- Link: https://writersworkshopindia.com/2019/02/05/sediments-of-silence/
- Published: 2019-02-05T02:57:55+00:00
- Author: shuktara

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**Author:** Mohammad Hasan[](https://writersworkshopindia.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/02/Sediments-of-Silence.jpeg)
**
Pages:** 164 **Year of Publication:** 2018 **Price:** Rs 400 **ISBN:** 978-93-5045-
186-1 (9789350451861)

_**About the Author**_
 Professor Mohammad Hasan, born in Taranagar (Rajasthan),
studied geography in the Universities of Jodhpur and Syracuse, New York. He taught
at the Universities of Jodhpur and Nairobi (Kenya), and HCM Rajasthan State Institute
of Public Administration, Jaipur. A recipient of the Fulbright-Hays Scholarship 
for doctoral and advanced research on South Asians in the USA, he was also awarded
a British Council Fellowship at Manchester University, UK.  He was a member of the
Academic Council and Board of Studies, Aligarh Muslim University (AMU), and the 
Rajiv Gandhi Social Security Mission, Rajasthan. He has delivered lectures at the
University of California-Davis, Syracuse University, International Rivers Network(
Berkeley), Osmania University, AMU and administrative training institutions in India.
A peace rights activist, he writes on environment and community issues, and organizes
relief operations for disaster victims. He lives in Jaipur.

_**Teaser**_

_The Presidents_

History has strange warps and wefts
 Across the world we live in. When it comes 
to minorities, Things often take a familiar tilt.

When the Sikhs of Delhi were burnt alive,
 There was a Sikh President, Snubbed and
ignored. We don’t know Whether he cried or was indignant.

When Gujarati Muslims were slaughtered,
 Women were raped, their houses razed, There
was a Muslim president, Humble and always in bliss. Many vociferously chorused: 
_He is great!_ Then the greatness was in gazing at stars. He was a President restrained!

When a white policeman
 Killed an innocent black In a crowded American lane, The
first black American President Looked helpless and very sad. But he said what he
could say, In sympathetic, dignified ways, Putting balm on green wounds Always kept
flared.

_**Contents**_
 81 poems