Swooping down like a bird of prey, it comes: The mind is its meal, and when prodded Or courted much, the mind it becomes. Unrobed, and without a toe, it demands Admittance into the theatre of blankness: The stage, then, is never the same. A sudden cloud, it merely hoodwinks The constant Sun; but all the land Becomes grey, and braces for a storm. Carried by the … [Read more...]
Because People Give up by Now | Shabnum Khanum
Because people give up by now, Wiping off the mopped floor, squeaky clean, marble white I reflect. Painted the windows white, walls red, no bloody stains here. Furniture is white, matching the windows, Dining table round and of pine, This is where I dine, They say 1 day at a time. Because people give up by now, Cleaning brownish-blackish gunk on the stove. Over … [Read more...]
My Religious Odds | Shabnum Khanum
I have always wondered about religion About mine, about yours, about everyone’s I have wondered where the Gods went And I have wondered about the ones still in making I have wondered why I feel angry sometimes When someone talks against My God And I have wondered why my best friend now sees our religion odd. Where did I get all this from? Maybe from people who followed … [Read more...]
The Lanka Witch | Amit Parmessur
The first time I called myself a ‘Witch’ was themost magical moment of my life. - Margot Adler Every morning, she sips on an innocent Satan, and during the day, she spills dirty smoke into her people’s faces when she splits her tomb-like womb open. She reigns over the palace with her long neck like a stuffed giraffe, mistaking her family members for sugary leaves she … [Read more...]
Guruji Is No More | Amit Parmessur
Years after leaving primary school and losing faith in God again, I heard our Guruji had died in an accident. We never cursed him that much. We only asked for Hindi holidays. Someone else must have asked for his death. Maybe himself. Our Guruji had the biggest bike you’d ever see. You should have heard the noise, and seen how he revved up the engine. Each Monday and … [Read more...]
Spiral in the backwoods | Kavya Ravi
a very short poem lying on my table for long is picked up one day by my mother; what does this mean? she probes amusingly; spiral in the backwoods i had called it, it’s nothing amma, I quip read it for me, she says it was a strange room or familiar, i didn’t know, there were noises and smiles in crepuscular light, i knew those faces and their uncast … [Read more...]
Crimson | Dhruv Trehan
My mother’s favourite colour was Red. Not the banal shade of withering roses, that has witnessed several empty promises or the monochromatic Saffron that wails for an adulterated history that sings of its virulent glory. But instead, the dark and brooding Crimson with shades of Cherry and hints of Mahogany. When I was still a child, she would always tell me that my … [Read more...]
When you travel to Greece | Dhruv Trehan
Dear friend, When you travel to Greece bring me back nothing but, a fistful of sand from the beaches of Santorini. Hold it in your hands and let it slip into the space between your thumb and index finger. Let it house itself there until you’re back into my arms and once you’re home, let your fists loose and let it slither down from your fingers into mine like … [Read more...]
Yours, naturally | Varsha Jha
My body is resourceful, It is a woman’s body. I will nurture a life within me and therefore I am closer to love, they say. His body is a giver, mine a receiver. I will create and re-create many lives, because I am going to be a mother, like all the other mothers, who are born with their children. I will feed, suckle and bring him up, because to be a good … [Read more...]
When a Dreamer Met a Realist | Likhitha M
What time is it?, you ask I say, it’s twilight. You are still filling up the cracks, In our fractured portrait; Erasing my foibles with each stroke, You embellish its unfinished edges, Redraw our golden silhouette, I’m still writing poems, In the shadow of your soul; I find tapestries among the stars, Retracing the curve of the orbits, Chasing the crimson … [Read more...]