A Successful Man, City Fire
A Successful Man
A Successful Man
The process: the chipped paint-frayed window screens, the wasp nests of last year that don’t have a purpose, the tufts of old-man-gray dusting the yard; all ...
Leaving Home
This love heart that pulsed passion and fluttered and quivered daily in awkward agile anticipation has become clogged and congealed. Now, the HMO’s of love d...
At the Animal Shelter After Dark
If what they said Was interesting And their interests Were what they said
Essential Vocabulary for Transfolk
I fear we are singing to ourselves, Chanting love songs Across a candle-lit and empty time Between the backs of our minds.
miasma theory
They told us we’d found the true spirit of grindcore but all we had were walks on the beach and the inevitable fondnesses for horses and people that led to i...
She brings the lipstick close to her lips, her lipstick becomes more wrinkles adjacent to the lips than lips, her hands tremble as she picks up the kajal1. ...
not feeling recently so very inspired in spite of birds which wheel and scatter on the sky like salt on bacon.
I wanted to write a dissent poem, but they said that not more than three lines can assemble together.
Your great-grandfather wasn’t part of the resistance. He served the war years on the wrong side. The best you can hope for is that he despised himself. Other...
Strange TMI factoids we learn trawling through progressions of non-dark websites regards all manner of TP [hint: not tooth paste].
when your hands droop impotent and your thoughts are paralyzed. What will glimmer in this gleaming oblivion? Compose yourself first. Pick...
Windows in my house are dealers of bugs, friends with spiders. Shut so tight, if they were women, they’d have identical lips all aligned in a single line. ...
1947
I am a twenty two year old reservoir Ready to cave in Like a suicidal blood clot I put my name in the goblet For a space program I know there is no returning...
Images from Childhood The memory quickly fades into origin: days of sunlit, ashen mornings, and the golden –
It’s a circumambulation - For you and I A perpetual hunt for each other, And one that knows no end.
Limbo. Dying undying. Living unliving. Where do I belong? I peek through whitewashed windows and see golden lights, Stars maybe, if stars resided on Barr...
Once there was rain with the rainbow, friends with butterfly scents and snails touched by index fingers, back in the day when hands joined in the warmth o...
Working Class Houses
A cow shits lazily at your entrance.
One late and silent evening quite a few winters ago, Nosain took me in lovingly, as she did all her children before me.
For the Tourist at Lal Qila, Delhi
Look down, little baby. there she sleeps in that modest, open casket, inhaling all her graces and hallelujahs in her serene passage to the good Lord.
Author’s Note: stillborn and stillbirth.
Frieda, listen little love Frieda. You have scars and burns and bumps-a, And stretches and cracks that may look rueful, But nothing little love, can make ...
It lasted for seven minutes, A hush, a bluff, a thrust, in and out It is all the rage to grope, fondle, maul. The boy was told in the strangest time, It was ...
I like to place bricks on my voice, So it will let out only whispers, When my eyes are listening, To the moonlight falling asleep, On seabed. I like to tie ...
1. The stones arranged like a staircase that once made Pocket size waterfalls along the stream course Now turned into bricks you call house So when you brin...
Tug O’ War? ‘Twixt Arabic verses, and dialectics? House of God— a pilgrimage to Mecca— a mandate? Pelting stones, and Satan— salvation? Diktats of Islam— a r...
Red has grown tired now, of the exhausting symbolism, crushed by the burden of representing love and blood, of inducing blissfulness in a loving heart, or in...
The storm brews afar in the sea We can’t run and we know it You’re worried, or so you say And look into my eyes searching for answers I am no library — I ill...
Miracle-e-Din
hoshiarpur turns pink at sunset the setting sun casts a tint on nameless faces, nameless roads, nameless graves. the setting sun sets fire to the fields the...
Co-Founders
The history of oppression that women have been subjected to since time immemorial, had been taking shape in the Indian subcontinent with the invasion of the ...
Six-thirty on the clock on 11th June saw the sun inching down the horizon, its rays sputtering, spent, like pens running out, leaving thoughts suspended mid-...
This story and its title are both inspired by Shel Silverstein’s Where The Sidewalk Ends.
The piece tries to interlace the narrative of Bertha Mason from Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre with that of a young, married woman. The latter is set in the pr...
I saw her while I was being diagnosed with dysthymia – a major depressive disorder - at St. Stephen’s Hospital in Gurgaon. Which is kind of ironic in its own...
The story is inspired from the video of the song “Sleep on The Floor” by The Lumineers.
The story of India’s resistance took different forms at different stages of British expansion. Therefore, revisiting these events serve multiple purposes by ...
Caste is perhaps one of the most potent socio-cultural, and hence politico-economic, forces in India. Centuries old, it has governed humans and human activit...
The first section of this article by Antara is a non-partisan take on the alleged insidious conversion campaigns while the second section by Malvika is a cas...
“If you are cold, tea will warm you; If you are too heated, it will cool you; If you are depressed, it will cheer you; If you are excited, it will calm yo...
13.8 billion years ago, the expansion of a staggeringly hot entity - infinitesimal in size and infinite in density - resulted in a grand cosmic evolution. Th...
Conspiracy theories have been a part of our culture for a little more than a century now. For some, they are a tool of comprehending the veiled reality which...
The chilly winds at Drass, Kargil, do their best to keep the Tricolour fluttering at the Drass War Memorial to pay respect to the five hundred and twenty-sev...
The Medley has been many things in its lifetime, and wandered to many places before it was here. A blog. A newsletter. An academic journal. And then, a title...
The white expanse of the blank canvas stared back at me. It was pretty white, really. Whiter than snow but warmer than the empty pages of my pocket notebook....
Since she left her birthplace — a land of the seasons — her existence had been untethered: floating freestyle instead of settling to the comfortable rhythm n...
I had been completely unaware of the plot until Bradley asked for a favour. It came as a surprise since my status at Springdale High didn’t rise to the level...
My older sister Nan and I climb up our makeshift treehouse armed with our latest swiped goodies. Vienna sausages. Saltines. Sardines. Plastic Merlot bottles....
The first time God talked to Roger was in the detention hall in high school.
Is this what they’ll see, when they come to excavate our time? Those unfortunates from future History faculties or departments, who opt to major or speciali...
Fyodor Markov-Smith had to take his fingers off the keyboard. He watched, stunned, as his hands shook. He could not make them stop. But then he never imagine...
The forest was drenched in a dull violet light as a blue sun pierced the canopy. Her eyes gazed thoughtlessly at the trees that loomed titanic over her. She ...
A black cloud of smoke near the intersection of Florence and Normandie drifted towards Mrs. Kim’s California Dry Cleaning store in South Central Los Angeles....
“Huh. Tumhare Nanu1 . Bahut popular hua karte the apne zamaane mein. Class ke baad, ladkiyan unke peeche peeche bhaag hi jaati thi – Sir, Sir, Sir. I have a ...
Sundays meant that señoras would get up before the sun to set up their small food stands, taking their kids along to help. You could get hot drinks and hot f...
A paintbrush between slim fingers. A heartbeat. A single breath that slips away and curls against the ghost sobbing on the floor. A trickle of sunlight reach...
While talking about why she didn’t write linearly, Virginia Woolf asked, “is life like this? Must novels be like this?”
Three years. That’s for how long I didn’t go back. I don’t have an elaborate excuse for it, to be honest. I had a decent job in the city and going back to th...
Villars-Sur-Ollon 15 July 2016
She sat down after an hour of hard work. Her body did not need rest; her mind did so she sat. The morning had just begun and life in the city was already bus...
As I sit in the balcony of the three-storeyed building I’ve called home for the past one year, coughing multiple times because of the smoke coming from the t...
She had two favourite children. One died young. And left her bitter. Vengeful. Shocked. She was afraid of evenings and bullets since then. But she often told...
When the cracks first appeared, she decided to ignore it. Who would care for it anyway, those blemishes on the wall. It was his job and he just may do it onc...
Six-thirty on the clock on 11th June saw the sun inching down the horizon, its rays sputtering, spent, like pens running out, leaving thoughts suspended mid-...
This story and its title are both inspired by Shel Silverstein’s Where The Sidewalk Ends.
The piece tries to interlace the narrative of Bertha Mason from Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre with that of a young, married woman. The latter is set in the pr...
I saw her while I was being diagnosed with dysthymia – a major depressive disorder - at St. Stephen’s Hospital in Gurgaon. Which is kind of ironic in its own...
The story is inspired from the video of the song “Sleep on The Floor” by The Lumineers.
Contrary to popular belief, the most important step, the hardest step, of a journey is not the first one. As Sanderson says, it’s the next one, the second on...
She sat down after an hour of hard work. Her body did not need rest; her mind did so she sat. The morning had just begun and life in the city was already bus...
As I sit in the balcony of the three-storeyed building I’ve called home for the past one year, coughing multiple times because of the smoke coming from the t...
There was a lecture on a particular concept of Carl Rogers that was being taught in class, when the month of September started. And you know how September is...
She had two favourite children. One died young. And left her bitter. Vengeful. Shocked. She was afraid of evenings and bullets since then. But she often told...
When the cracks first appeared, she decided to ignore it. Who would care for it anyway, those blemishes on the wall. It was his job and he just may do it onc...
Look down, little baby. there she sleeps in that modest, open casket, inhaling all her graces and hallelujahs in her serene passage to the good Lord.
Author’s Note: stillborn and stillbirth.
Frieda, listen little love Frieda. You have scars and burns and bumps-a, And stretches and cracks that may look rueful, But nothing little love, can make ...
It lasted for seven minutes, A hush, a bluff, a thrust, in and out It is all the rage to grope, fondle, maul. The boy was told in the strangest time, It was ...
I like to place bricks on my voice, So it will let out only whispers, When my eyes are listening, To the moonlight falling asleep, On seabed. I like to tie ...
1. The stones arranged like a staircase that once made Pocket size waterfalls along the stream course Now turned into bricks you call house So when you brin...
Tug O’ War? ‘Twixt Arabic verses, and dialectics? House of God— a pilgrimage to Mecca— a mandate? Pelting stones, and Satan— salvation? Diktats of Islam— a r...
Red has grown tired now, of the exhausting symbolism, crushed by the burden of representing love and blood, of inducing blissfulness in a loving heart, or in...
The storm brews afar in the sea We can’t run and we know it You’re worried, or so you say And look into my eyes searching for answers I am no library — I ill...
Miracle-e-Din
hoshiarpur turns pink at sunset the setting sun casts a tint on nameless faces, nameless roads, nameless graves. the setting sun sets fire to the fields the...
“Huh. Tumhare Nanu1 . Bahut popular hua karte the apne zamaane mein. Class ke baad, ladkiyan unke peeche peeche bhaag hi jaati thi – Sir, Sir, Sir. I have a ...
We go through jars without realizing their capacity to contain more than liquids, millennial cakes, knick-knacks and loose change. Stationery is capable of s...
Windows in my house are dealers of bugs, friends with spiders. Shut so tight, if they were women, they’d have identical lips all aligned in a single line. ...
1947
I am a twenty two year old reservoir Ready to cave in Like a suicidal blood clot I put my name in the goblet For a space program I know there is no returning...
Sundays meant that señoras would get up before the sun to set up their small food stands, taking their kids along to help. You could get hot drinks and hot f...
Images from Childhood The memory quickly fades into origin: days of sunlit, ashen mornings, and the golden –
It’s a circumambulation - For you and I A perpetual hunt for each other, And one that knows no end.
Limbo. Dying undying. Living unliving. Where do I belong? I peek through whitewashed windows and see golden lights, Stars maybe, if stars resided on Barr...
A paintbrush between slim fingers. A heartbeat. A single breath that slips away and curls against the ghost sobbing on the floor. A trickle of sunlight reach...
While talking about why she didn’t write linearly, Virginia Woolf asked, “is life like this? Must novels be like this?”
Once there was rain with the rainbow, friends with butterfly scents and snails touched by index fingers, back in the day when hands joined in the warmth o...
Three years. That’s for how long I didn’t go back. I don’t have an elaborate excuse for it, to be honest. I had a decent job in the city and going back to th...
Photographs, for me, always serve as a powerful medium of bringing about stories that can be visualized by the audience. Through my frames, I wish to knit pe...
Displacement is a word we come across in many different contexts over the course of our life. To be displaced is to not be in the same place one was before. ...
I took this particular photograph on the 18th of January, 2020. On that day, my pelvis ultrasound scan report came out and it was found that I had cysts in m...
If what they said Was interesting And their interests Were what they said
The first time God talked to Roger was in the detention hall in high school.
Essential Vocabulary for Transfolk
I fear we are singing to ourselves, Chanting love songs Across a candle-lit and empty time Between the backs of our minds.
miasma theory
They told us we’d found the true spirit of grindcore but all we had were walks on the beach and the inevitable fondnesses for horses and people that led to i...
Is this what they’ll see, when they come to excavate our time? Those unfortunates from future History faculties or departments, who opt to major or speciali...
She brings the lipstick close to her lips, her lipstick becomes more wrinkles adjacent to the lips than lips, her hands tremble as she picks up the kajal1. ...
Fyodor Markov-Smith had to take his fingers off the keyboard. He watched, stunned, as his hands shook. He could not make them stop. But then he never imagine...
not feeling recently so very inspired in spite of birds which wheel and scatter on the sky like salt on bacon.
The forest was drenched in a dull violet light as a blue sun pierced the canopy. Her eyes gazed thoughtlessly at the trees that loomed titanic over her. She ...
Dissent
I wanted to write a dissent poem, but they said that not more than three lines can assemble together.
Your great-grandfather wasn’t part of the resistance. He served the war years on the wrong side. The best you can hope for is that he despised himself. Other...
Strange TMI factoids we learn trawling through progressions of non-dark websites regards all manner of TP [hint: not tooth paste].
A black cloud of smoke near the intersection of Florence and Normandie drifted towards Mrs. Kim’s California Dry Cleaning store in South Central Los Angeles....
When one of our staff members, suggested “Local Flavour”, we weren’t sold on the idea. In our initial discussions, we felt that as a theme, it had almost one...
I’ve often observed a certain solidarity in all of my favourite photographs. I had a sense of direction for them, seconds before I even took them. It’s almos...
Villars-Sur-Ollon 15 July 2016
In retrospect, everything is fine. Just fine.
Working Class Houses
A cow shits lazily at your entrance.
One late and silent evening quite a few winters ago, Nosain took me in lovingly, as she did all her children before me.
What does it mean to be a man?
For the Tourist at Lal Qila, Delhi
In retrospect, everything is fine. Just fine.
What does it mean to be a man?
There was a lecture on a particular concept of Carl Rogers that was being taught in class, when the month of September started. And you know how September is...
The history of oppression that women have been subjected to since time immemorial, had been taking shape in the Indian subcontinent with the invasion of the ...
The story of India’s resistance took different forms at different stages of British expansion. Therefore, revisiting these events serve multiple purposes by ...
Caste is perhaps one of the most potent socio-cultural, and hence politico-economic, forces in India. Centuries old, it has governed humans and human activit...
The first section of this article by Antara is a non-partisan take on the alleged insidious conversion campaigns while the second section by Malvika is a cas...
“If you are cold, tea will warm you; If you are too heated, it will cool you; If you are depressed, it will cheer you; If you are excited, it will calm yo...
13.8 billion years ago, the expansion of a staggeringly hot entity - infinitesimal in size and infinite in density - resulted in a grand cosmic evolution. Th...
Conspiracy theories have been a part of our culture for a little more than a century now. For some, they are a tool of comprehending the veiled reality which...
The chilly winds at Drass, Kargil, do their best to keep the Tricolour fluttering at the Drass War Memorial to pay respect to the five hundred and twenty-sev...
A Successful Man
The process: the chipped paint-frayed window screens, the wasp nests of last year that don’t have a purpose, the tufts of old-man-gray dusting the yard; all ...
The white expanse of the blank canvas stared back at me. It was pretty white, really. Whiter than snow but warmer than the empty pages of my pocket notebook....
Church of St Augustine, Goa
Since she left her birthplace — a land of the seasons — her existence had been untethered: floating freestyle instead of settling to the comfortable rhythm n...
Leaving Home
I had been completely unaware of the plot until Bradley asked for a favour. It came as a surprise since my status at Springdale High didn’t rise to the level...
My older sister Nan and I climb up our makeshift treehouse armed with our latest swiped goodies. Vienna sausages. Saltines. Sardines. Plastic Merlot bottles....
This love heart that pulsed passion and fluttered and quivered daily in awkward agile anticipation has become clogged and congealed. Now, the HMO’s of love d...
At the Animal Shelter After Dark
We go through jars without realizing their capacity to contain more than liquids, millennial cakes, knick-knacks and loose change. Stationery is capable of s...
The history of oppression that women have been subjected to since time immemorial, had been taking shape in the Indian subcontinent with the invasion of the ...
I took this particular photograph on the 18th of January, 2020. On that day, my pelvis ultrasound scan report came out and it was found that I had cysts in m...
Photographs, for me, always serve as a powerful medium of bringing about stories that can be visualized by the audience. Through my frames, I wish to knit pe...
I’ve often observed a certain solidarity in all of my favourite photographs. I had a sense of direction for them, seconds before I even took them. It’s almos...
Dissent
Displacement is a word we come across in many different contexts over the course of our life. To be displaced is to not be in the same place one was before. ...
When one of our staff members, suggested “Local Flavour”, we weren’t sold on the idea. In our initial discussions, we felt that as a theme, it had almost one...
Church of St Augustine, Goa
Church of St Augustine, Goa