When we first landed on the idea of “Daag” as the theme for our tenth issue, we knew we were treading on tender ground. We were honestly unsure about what responses we might receive as submissions.

In a world obsessed with filters and flawlessness — where anything remotely "stained" is scrubbed out of view — we chose to lean into the very things most people hide. Picking “Daag” as our tenth issue’s theme felt like touching a bruise — delicate, risky, but deeply necessary.

'Daag', that literally translates to stain/tainted. "Daag" says the hyperventilating newsreader, "Daag" says the cautious mother. Of unease, Of play, Of shame as much of shamelessness, Of unkindness, Of the genocide.

"Daag". A scar, a mark. Marring the mundane beauty of the universal, these bruises bleed in paradox. They make us imperfect, and imperfection's a gift of the soul — the canvas for a painting. They are our frailest memories recalled with stubborn strength.

Fleeting, like a butterfly, from one life to the other, from one generation to the next, these 'daags' — be it the souvenir of a childhood injury, or the quiet ache of long-borne trauma — when worn with pride and acceptance, become a weapon. A mirror held out for a society which refuses to look.

"The most personal is the most creative," says Martin Scorsese. Each daag has a story, an untamed reservoir of emotions to be tapped into and exposed. And that's how scars heal, and some never do.

The boundaries of history have always been defined by those who had been forced outside them, ostracized, exploited, dehumanised. A daag serves as the gateway to a psyche which has been made to feel unwanted.

And this issue is an attempt to protagonise, for once, these very scars the world prefers hidden beneath its woollen sleeves.

Our voices are what make us social beings. If you can't say it, whisper. Be the crickets in a summer night — unignorable. That's what the entries for this issue have taught us, and we're so very grateful to everyone who has gifted us a piece of their lives and their history, whole and complete in themselves.

We present this carefully complied selection of Poems, Prose and Non Fiction that echo their stories from the rooftops, for a change.

Our tenth issue features poems, fiction and essays from across the globe, along with an interview with the brilliant Shayantani Das. It is our humble attempt at presenting narratives, voices, “daags”, that the society, the world often chooses to ignore. We are very grateful to all the people who so graciously held up candles to these unseen daags, who didn’t look away but accepted us for all that we are, imperfect people with imperfect, stained lives.