I am an uneven bird, Quite contrary. All your cajole Lay heavy, unmoving, Upon my heart, My brooding, Incubating shut-eyed Hen of a heart, That won't budge From the egg of torpor Toasting under Her warm underdown. Flights of freedom Brook not a prompt. 21 May 2022
Poetry
No Budgerigar | Ananya Dutta Gupta
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YOU | Fatima Khand
By: Fatima KhandYou’re the moonlight far across an ocean, in a midst of a forest. You’re the colors of a rainbow after the first rain.
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Synoptic of my madness | Fatima Khand
By: Fatima KhandWhy are you far from me? My heart saddens knowing the distance. Oh dear, please come back! Your sweetheart awaits.
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But Amma never listens | Fuzaila Khan
By: Fuzaila KhanFuzaila Khan’s tries to explain the angst she feels to her Amma, a Mother, who never listens. Some days, I screech the window panes To uncover the deafening layers of my being. On others, I scrape through my flesh To…
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His Arms, Her Waves | Snigdha Ghose
By: Snigdha GhoseTo the days and nights, the morning prayers, lost in the void, of his fears, walking the pavement, gazing at the timber, far across the blues, hearing the whimper of the asters, the time was transient, a standstill, in sense,…
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An elegy for a not-yet-dead-love | Lakshmi Chithra
By: Lakshmi ChithraWhen your love has lived long enough, You have to check for signals to confirm it’s alive. A caress, the normal pulse. a hug, the rhythmic breath. A very rare act of love-making, the zig-zag lifelines on a medical screen.…
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Judas Window | Davis Varghese
By: Davis VargheseA sea of sand so limerent. Stalks its languid prey under a midsummer sun. A pitiful camel and its sun-stroked captain. Elements of pathos, on the verge. Pursued blatantly by an army of rolling dunes. Wisps of green, simmer on…
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I Look Inward | Sheetal Agarwal
By: Sheetal AgarwalA tiny ray of the mighty sunWipes the darkness awayToeing the path shown by the enlightened oneMy bilboes one-by-one decay
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In Flight | Sri Lal
By: Sri LalIn Flight Into your fiery mouth, I rush. I am ash. I am beyond myself, no longer a daughter cast out,
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Saffron and the Seven Sins | Shanaia Kapoor
By: Shanaia KapoorA naked Kali dances atop the mantlepiece. The smell of paraffin hangs in the air Like the death of glory on a breeze. This night would be a cold one. My sisters warn me about how Like the red and…
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On Being Left | Ron Riekki
By: Ron RiekkiShe’s ashamed of my eyes. She’s left my eyes to the fish. My lips are abandoned buildings. My jaw is Detroit. My feet live below the poverty line. I am trapped in traps. She is made of milk and jewels…
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August to September | Bindiya Bedi Charan Noronha
A beginning A glowing promise beckons Days are short; time is shorter. Surprise around the corner In autumnal tones awaits I am in turmoil Wanting the radiance of new Desperate to leave history behind Rid the sterile pessimism of Unfulfilled…
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When ‘Nothing’ is Up, and Everything is as ‘Usual’ | Prateek Joshi
By: Prateek JoshiI was brushing off the memories of yesterday over a pause in the afternoon when I heard a knock on my pillow. A person I had met once before called from the door. Greetings were passed. ‘Nothing’ was up and…