January 2021

  Artwork by Women Remains Underrepresented across the world. The unequal representation of women in art history was not a coincidence. Representation of women in Art is undoubtedly connected to the status of women in society. The idea that woman should only

It is strange how free one is when totally bound  Feet and fingers working on Unthinking unfeeling unconnected beings oblivious to what the rest is doing Time defeated, curls into a corner  no longer willing to wait the night out

I was at my funeral. My body was wrapped in a white sheet, some of my friends and relatives were standing there and silently looking at my face, of course, they had tied my mouth around my head with a piece of

The pale yellow Of the wheat field Is stretched out beyond eyesight Poppy blooms in enflamed crimson Skirts along the curved footpath The glistening sunbeams soak my face with warmth Like steamed sweetcorn on a pouring rainy day. The sun has

The Burning Baby Twenty days; That’s how old I am. I am lying here on a hotbed, Alone. Burning to ashes; While my mother at home Is still hoping, That I would return home And cry again!

It’s a sad girl day, today I woke up and decided, today That it was a sad girl day It was a sad girl day, the other day too It doesn’t look much better For tomorrow I decided, tomorrow It looks like

While contemplating suicide, as he was frequently wont to do, Ceylon Nathan happened to look closely at the plateglass window and noticed a snail crawling slowly across it. He went towards it and… luckily, it was on the other side of the

Anustub Basu’s book Hindutva as Political Monotheism in several ways chronicles the pantheistic strands within Hinduism and traces the genealogy of Hindutva as political monotheism while decoding its political DNA. He opens with Kancha Illaiah’s sudra critique of Hindu philosophy, culture and

In the kitchen I stand Tracksuit-clad and blinking As the click of the front door shuts The sounds of the day away.   I snuff the gas And the subterranean gurgling fades to naught As, like a latter-day suburban witch

On the banks of the Manning a sea eagle high in the conifer balances on a bare branch shreds and devours its writhing catch. Scales, bones, entrails. My hands deep in my pockets, not like early days of love when you

I was restless from the morning. Unable to sense what was bothering my body. I checked the forehead for a fever. The body was cold. But I was scorching inside. Neither a headache nor a body pain. Not even any signs

December 28, 2020, was the 68th wedding anniversary of my beloved parents, Sofia and Inocencio. My earliest memories of my parents are of my father’s warm motherly embrace and my mother’s great love for reading. In many ways, they defied gender

REDEMPTION 1 Depression shrouded her as it swallowed her into a realm of obscurity. Its murky belly hid her from the light, and she found refuge in its sludge. Its venomous words were so warm, so comforting. It hissed into her

O! My boy, my son, Cradle in my arms. Eyes misty as the winter sky…. Silver tears wet my forehead, why? Bury my face in your precious arms; Mum, I don’t understand. Why, is Dad in the box over there? One we

Ancestral fire, flames licking the dreams, Of a knee, low in raised silence, A sunny bud, brooding on black soils, Am the kite, whose string is loosed from the root, Flying, prying, praying, I step between steps like a dancer, But far

There is a tumultuous thunderstorm over my head, And I’m thinking about how the Universe wanted us to be together so badly she demanded the sky exploded when we had our first kiss. How lemon scented cigarettes will never fail to

“How many times a day?” asked Kobayashi. All the six gathered at the short Japanese table, laughed. The newly married Kashima, hesitated for a moment whether to answer or not. Noticing that everyone was looking at him, in a

The streets are deserted. All the citizens have fled to the safety of their homes. The wind howls through the gutters. In some distant room a sick lady moans. There is no one to hear her. A few forgotten melodies played on

—An Extract From A  My Untitled Novel 1. It was a warm August afternoon ten years before, in 2008, that Priya and four of her colleagues from Pavers University reached U Street in Washington DC to find a good and

Thou shall not kill Divine command it Is Yet uniformed Armed land forces Will not budge Drunken by smoking Iron in hand Ants more valuable Thou shall not kill We learnt as young As five Yet, land forces fed Off our sweats

Motionless, she lay, her crushed visage, the swollen flesh and cartilage of her nose adorned with cotton balls, blocking the air that she will never again inhale. The air of her moist, trampled desires, the putrid air of falsehood and her

Dear Daughter, In our society, women love those group of men who do not take rejection seriously. There is a set of rules and regulations in the society, If a man wants to silence a woman, The respected gentleman rapes her, Not