Suggestions

You Can Sleep When You Are Dead

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They come to be heard, to be held, to be healed. They come one by one, and all at once. Their names—fear, regret, disappointment, shame, longing and anger— are pseudonyms for they are her, hidden in spaces unsealed by a career of gravitas and glamour, beyond reach of family, friendships, her husband, her children, spaces that remain open in spite of the laughter, abundance, comforts. They come at that strange hour between wakefulness and sleepiness and stay until the slither of dawn breaks through the slumbering skies. And with them comes tossing, turning, pillow punching, legs tangling between sheets until
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Noh Mask

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lost this moonless nightwithout a starry guidewhere the black dog herdsand the midnight cat’s clawsclick across weary stones.lost where whiteno longer exists.gloom’s black fingerscurl and
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EMPOWERMENT

Dirty Girl

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Dirty – is such a dirty word. A neat little package of judgment summed up in 5 letters from the morally superior, their final

FICTIONAL ARTS

Radha’s Song

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You wouldn’t know how it feels, would you?To love a man who’s claimed by many.Who am I but just another woman,lost in a throng

Echoing Mothers

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I hear mothers,young and old,rich and not-so-poor,Believers, atheists, heathenI hear their staggering stepszigzagging throughformer husbands,current flings,the faltering economy.I hear their symphonies–son’s first tooth fall,daughter’s

Bodi Amma’s Theater

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Beneath the overcast and uninspiring sky, a training aircraft soared through the air, casting its shadow upon the hills below. If one were to

Aligarh

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Astir, nightly shows—orchestras of vehicles playthe chords in the streets. True-blue tea-lovers—drinking views with samosas,English coffeehouse. Glistening at daytime—dainty neighbourhoods bask insoft showers of

FOOD & TRAVEL