Noreen
Noreen has been attending the writer’s workshop since its inception. She has published fiction and non-fiction, including science fiction (“Maitreya’s Decision”, available on Kobo) and a memoir (“Reminiscences about Gardens that Grew by Themselves”, also on Kobo). At present, she is working on a sci-fi novel, “The Enigma of the Xymerian Artifact”. Her educational background is in the life sciences (master’s degrees in molecular biology and bioinformatics, and nearly a PhD in neuroscience), and she also studied English Philology in Germany. She works as a German-to-English translator of science and literature, and as a life scientist (molecular biologist and bioinformaticist).
“The living room revealed fascinating objets d’art that the poet had collected over a long period of time. Such as small, intricate figurines of dancers from Nava Varanasi, a town home to many Yogics on the other side of the planet. The dancers seemed to fluidly move when one glanced at them, and their facial expressions altered depending on one’s mood. Anamara wasn’t sure what form of energy the figurines were powered by. The guide helpfully explained that they were quasi-holographic creations of advanced Yogic masters. They crafted the statues by manipulating material, spacetime and Prana-flow. And they evidently imbued the statues with a tiny fragment of their own consciousness, that reacted to the gaze of a visitor and caused the figurine to dance and mirror their mood.”
Blue and golden hummingbirds hovered in mid-air, their wings a blur, sipping the nectar of exotic flowers. “When the poet is here in January, he sits at the pool, looking towards the ocean, and inspired verses flow.”
The guide took them to the nearby beach to give them a taste of Ferrati’s verses. Some took off their shoes and waded ankle-deep into the tepid tropical surf. Anamara joined them. She and Arakin admired colorful seashells on the sand. She picked up one – it was a hermit crab in a spiral encasing. Large pink crabs waved their pincers on the sand. Little brown birds, sandpipers, scuttled about, their legs whirring. Between bursts of speed they pecked at the shore. The view of the deep blue ocean stretched to infinity, the horizon curving in the remote distance.
The guide quoted from one of Ferrati’s poems, strumming a Greek lyre:
‘Planets turn on their axes, the solar rises and sets.
Space and time flow relentlessly forward,
As I wait for my beloved.
She hurries to me from a distant world
In the starry night-sky, on swift wings of longing.’
The tour group applauded. The guide explained: “Rumor has it that Ferrati taught his wife Advanced Brahmalogix techniques he learnt from a master.”
“The first exhibit was a 10-foot-long sleek green sea-dragon with a long narrow toothy snout. […]. Arakin recited enthusiastically from a panel: ‘The nothosaur, a sea reptile, existed on Earth in the Triassic era, 250 million years ago. Related to plesiosaurs, it swam in the tepid waters of the Tethys Ocean, between the continents of Gondwana and Laurasia. Notice the presence of black and white striped sea snakes in the tank.’ He read on ‘The nothosaur was re-created using time-travel. Scientists brought a snippet of its DNA into the present. They carefully planned their actions in such a fashion that no ripples in spacetime ensued. Such waves could affect our present. The required Schroedinger-Aksyonov calculations are incredibly complex and are only understood by select initiates’.”