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Miriam Sagan a little Mahler it’s stopped raining the Resurrection Symphony makes you weep audibly although you stifle it… Read More »Untitled

Dibyasree Nandy Oar in my small hands, I toil, My burning desire to crawl, knees smeared with earthly soil;… Read More »Louis

Anusha Prakash Huddled at the table reading Proust In the small hours of the morning Palpable is the… Read More »Reading Proust at 4 AM

Veena Kumar I I am a green lantern on this humid april night, draped in gold-threaded banarasi, folds pressed… Read More »Kolkata Wedding Diary

Ion Corcos It seems as if a twig is not enough; curly Roman hair, a faulty reflection in the… Read More »A Violet Armchair & a Disconnected Telephone

Patrick Gibson A wooden house settles on new foundation looking pale stark uprooted sod grows in foreign soil, once… Read More »Bleached House and Battered Lawn

Aswathy Balachandran They have warned her about the spectacles of the carnival. The luring sights, scents and colours which… Read More »Carnival

Suchita Parikh-Mundul where energy roams beyond the staccato notes of ink, where mass is an exploration of swirling molecules, … Read More »the formula of a blank page is e = mc2

Pallabi Nandy Pen to paper do not meet, fatuous words being dragged, out of a famined, sallow mind. First… Read More »I Force My Poems

Apratim Kar Forged into travesty a surreptitious lump of flesh stumbles with a stoic intent as the armour of… Read More »Stepping into the Concentric Swamp