Suggestions

Literature

·

The Golden Age of the 90s Kids

Everybody has their childhood memories, which cannot be erased by any means or will never disappear but will be stored forever somewhere around in their hard disk. The 90s kids have been blessed in many ways. They are the generation
January 25, 2022
·

Blind Spot

As a child, I always wanted to be invisible. It seemed like such a fun thought. Now, after all these years… the blank stares, the silence at the dining table, the lack of response… have I finally become invisible? cracks on ice
by
·

Beyond ‘Good Touch Bad Touch’

The lesson’s familiar, yet incomplete,For safety’s sake, we must redefineThe boundaries of touch, the invasion of sightWhen eyes devour, and privacy takes flight Private spaces, once sacred, now breachedBy hungry gazes that linger and clutchThough assault and murder loom larger stillWe mustn’t
by
·

Anatomy of a Sigh

standing underthe showerwatching the water flow…what’s it about betrayalthat excites us so striking Plutoout from the planetsnot realisingwhen I stopped beingpart of your universe deadheading rosesin one fell swoopafter our fighthe sends mea shrink’s number wonderingwhether to lie yet againabout my bruises…I
by
·

Of Resilience

We grieve,we mourn,we love again.Offering the pliant vessel of our heartsInto another’s hands.Because, in loving,we are sheddingour past skinsAnd, the weightof weary expectationsSome…our own. The beauty of this worldis in the retrieval of lost thingsA reverenceA redressal, of sorts.The 10, 000 joys
by
·

Daughter of the Soil

[Dedicated to the phenomenal black poet and activist Nikki Giovanni from Virginia, USA, and to her poem ‘Lemonade Grows from Soil, too’, from her book ‘MAKE ME RAIN’: Poems & Prose.] The raw, spiraling dance that sprang like unseasonal growthof turbulence, reeking
by
·

Violin Auditions

violin auditionsfor Philharmonic Orchestra…golden rain closed city –the cherry-plum tree keepsyesterday kids laughter a sky of blossomsthrough the apricot branches –bustle again on my street spring cleaning…the green silicone utensil setmy wind chimes project one night at Balchik…a white flowering cherry treesteals
by
·

Jaws 7

Seven-year-old jaws are very very sweetShark-shielded gaps are nestlingBetween apprentice teeth Upper maxillary, lower mandible, withCentralInsicorFirstBicuspid___LateralCanineOn retreat Bunch some sevens togetherYou’ll find the missing fleetThread the fallen togetherTo make Kali’s new wreatheYashodha scolds open Krishna’s mouthThe universe lies underneath Cliche: Eyes are
by
·

In the Small Hours

the small hoursbeginning with songthis afterlightwhispers of healingsoftly, softly… will you hold onthe way leaves dothrough the winnowingof every raindropupon your heart sometimesthere is a voicereaching back to me…as if you remain
by
·

Heirloom

    I will be on leave in the second half today, as I have a check-up at 4. Akila notified her team in the group about her early absence. She shut her office laptop and unlocked her phone with her thumb. She
by
·

Unbuttoned Time

At fivemy feet did not touch the floor.The rocking chair kept meafloat. Nothing chased me.Time sat nearby,unbuttoned,watching dust learn sunlight. The world arrivedat a size I could hold.A day bent easily,slid into my palms,and stayed. Now my son countspast his hands.Six arrivesalready
by
··

I cried

I told him “I am writing a book”. He asked me “What is it about?”I said “It’s about what happened to you”.He rolled his eyes.I looked at his eyes.He said “Another one to hear about how we feel & what we need now
by
··

After Valentine`s Day

after Valentine`s day…an empty gondolaswings the moon spring news…the postman stops at the gatewith lilac flowers my new pergola –bougainvillaea still climbingthe moon downwindmy cherry blossoms hat…and then I meet you pink Mount Fuji –pieces of fragrancepiercing its frame our bus makes
by
··

When Love Rots

She was perturbedby the strange stenchengulfing the house.She kept lookinginside the fridge,outside the garden,under the bed,over the oven,in the vegetables,in the frozen meat.But nothing was astray. Yet the stench remained.It seemed to come from afarShe followed the fumesthat took her to the
by
··

Love

I lost my grandmother very earlyand so her sister took her placewith her light coloured sarees,her warm, welcoming smileand her amazing cookingand even whenthe fog in her mindbegan to eclipse everything else,she would still smile andask how we were doing andto stay
by
·

Something Gave

Something Gave He told her to eat with her eyes first.It was a degustation menu. She played up her naïveté and asked if that had anything to do with disgusting. Ivo missed the twinkle in her eye, the mock coquette in the
by
··

Outage

When the world got dark, five years ago,it was not only my world.An aeroplane got struck by lightning.My brother died long before his time.But even before that, a dear friend had failedIn his bid to start a new kind of life. Then
by
·

Schism

the river dividesyour space and minewhere currents undercut the bankripples hide the undertow. our words erupt freestyleacross the water and tanglein river gum brancheslike giant birds upside downwings spread, beaks snappingblock a way forward. on opposite banksour footprints in the muddy edge.I
by
··

Being

No prophecy told me that I would meet youApollo is speechlessIs there a Cassandra for me to listenFor once.I am in confusionEmpedocles’ Love and HateRule in our cosmosIt comes to Being and PerishBut our love is an AtomIndivisible.Everything is mingled togetherLike your
by
··

Beyond the Stars 

I daydream about standing on the lunar ground,Observe the silence and no earthly sound.Earth would look like a tiny blue marble,Hmm! It seems like a story of Marvel. It is the Universe, where darkness is your only friend,An endless journey where time
by
··

Flying Squirrel 

Will you give me a night rideon the magic carpetof your wings? Will youallow me to see the worldfrom dizzying heightsbrush the tops of trees and mountainssavour the taste of pure rainbefore it falls to earth,tip my shoulders with the sky’s inkinessthe
by
·

Childhood’s Fable, Womanhood’s Scar

Childhood’s facade shatterslike brittle glass on concretethe crayon’s vivid scrawlbleeding into nursery wallsMama’s voice a whispered lie“kind eyes of a god”a fortune in his pocketa mind like sharpened glasscutting through deceit The silver screen’s false promisesSuperman’s impossible featsa composite of flawless liesa
by
·

Yellow Windows

Those houses are so big Maa, let’s run, we can touch them if we run now”, Uma shouted with joy holding the end of her mother’s worn-out saree. Her mother chuckled at her words. “Do you really think, you can touch them?”
by
··

Back to Childhood

balerina after dancing…slowly on the shiny floorthe moon in her slippers still in love…a ruby chestnut leaf hangsby the waning moon another Endless Column…the sky turns gold betweenthe chestnuts on the avenue first day of school…on the freshly poured asphaltautumn paints getting
by
··

The Lunchbox

Unpacking the untold story The story of my lunchbox Carried on for the entire week Mondays were aloo paranthasEnergised mother, excited childI was happy. She was happy. Friends were impressed. Tuesdays were bread pokorasDilli wali mother, Dilli wali daughterI was content. She
by
··

Here, Kitty Kitty

Oh, belle coquette with your noirishallure—Catwoman slinking backinto your boudoir whiskers whet,aftertaste of cream still velveton your tongue. Oh, Pussy-cat, Pussycat, where have you been?To whom did your heart belongthis April night under a swollenmoon sous le pont? Did you lovehim enough
by
··

To Women who Seek

If love must be begged forOr asked forit morphs…And doesn’t remain love.Take the shedding scalesfrom your skinthe wounds in your heartAnd, build around thema garden of rosesan altar of gemsfor, they’re precious.The knowing,like lighting on an ink blue skyis a gift.Or, didn’t
by
··

Love is Irrational

Love is IrrationalHumans say that love is complex;It leaves your mind perplexed.Nowadays, augmented arguments and egos are its prime features.Humans are indeed strange creatures,Having no capacity to understand its true essence. Open your vision, look around;You will realise that love is beautiful
by
··

Baghera

Baghera is the word for Panther in the Garhwali language. Garhwali is a Central Pahari language belonging to the Northern Zone of Indo-Aryan languages. It is primarily spoken by over 2.5 million Garhwali people who are from the Garhwal Division of the
by
··

Breastmilk

Her finger touching the nether lipSometimes, in pensive thought.At night bent wound like a nippleSucking slow to soothing, sleepHand flung caressing the pillowDreaming the soft breast of her malike it was in her infant state. What pains this proud poised,Independent young woman,A
by
··

Black Pots

Earthen world – clayey, resistant,With compact top and substantive basis,Inside black pots. Farmhands exchange seeds,Now pooled in an inventory,Based on tribal subsistence farming,Inside black pots. Go Dutch with knowledge, diversity, security,Debar killing, monoculture, hybrids,In effect veritiable unsoiled sap varieties present,Inside black pots.
by
··

Send No Roses

Valentine’s on February the 14th,The internet drips with UrduAnd its syrupy tropesFor romance.The language of love,With its endless supplyOf affectionBlooming in lettersLike liliesDraped in syllablesOf gossamer.Mohabbat. Mehboob. Jaan-e-jahaan–Love. Beloved. Life of the world.14 lives of the worldIn which lived Bilkis Yakoob Rasool
by
··

Hours

(the hours)Completed on October 23, 2022 The sweet poison of hot water hitting my tired feet at 3 amAll that was left unsaid as you board a 4 am flightMy heart melancholy, waking up late for fajr again at 5 amA forgotten
by
··

Rain

The door creaked open gentlyLike a cat’s paw paving way stealthilyTo peep inside for foodI got up to see if it was a whirlwind…It was drizzle embracing zephyrSinging a regal neomeWith a monophonic harmony.Water washed heat giving birth toPetrichor – the best
by
··

Circle

Iridescent points of lightin the orbit of your eyes shining,in the nightly blackness like a cat’s eyes gleaming.The Hawk watchingh its prey, prowling high,Circling around before the deadly plunge below. Like the time we wed, your ring round my fingerThen my slim
by
··

Soul’s Cost 

I checked today—My wings are shattered.No flights this summer.I’ve scoured every wing shop,“No match,” they say. It’s obvious, isn’t it?Each soul is singular.You can’t just swap a wing—it’s not right.To claim another,you’d have to steal a soul. I’d never take a life.Well,
by
··

Dawn

As the earth adorns the cloak of darkness,A masque it orchestratesWith various creatures at play,Offering typical sights and soundsYet seeming bizarre each time –Be it the waning moonAmidst the shadowy cloudsOr the wolf’s howl in a distant village,The haunt of the croaking
by
··

I saw you

I saw youWhen I was weak,When my voice was quiet,When my tears were loud… I saw your nailsScratch my flesh,Dig into meLike I was nothing… I saw your hands-Rough, cruel-Grab my breasts,Twist pain into my skin, Prove your manhoodwith violence. I saw
by
··

I awaken

i awakento the beginningof a new dawnbreathing inthe saffron raysof our blazing sunnaked & exposedas wheni was first bornundera falling starjoyfulthat my soulwas ridinga blue moonbeamstraight intothe cool greenevening breezepast the billowingcloudspast themilky wayimmersing intomy mother’spure white & eagerimmaculate breasts
by
··

First Spring Blossoms

first spring blossomsstreaming down in thehot-pink windagainst an azure skyone by oneexudingtheir spicy perfumeinto the earth’s poresintoxicating scentsswirlingaround & aroundmaking the airheavy & drunk below insidethe mother treea cluster of blue flowerssprouting like childrenopeningtheir armsheavenwardawaiting their maturityto shedtheir petalsto pour out theirfiery
by
··

Pastel Pink

spring deepens…almost open lilac budspulsating light cherry tree in bloom –love is sweeterunder its branches it flows from the gutter –the morning sun carressingthe house porch blossoms after dark –the sky pulsating perfumein pastel pink the solar lampin the garden turns on…cherry
by
··

Craving Time

Scattered sunrise peeks out from the horizon,its warm colour clotting the sheets, oh! that Indian blush, the morning awakensslowly on flushed skin. If one can only be so lucky to find oneselfin these moments in time, when there is balance to be
by
··

The Ship

If you were to travelto the opposite hemispherethe moonwould appear upside down.I think about that a lot.— my moon is a capsized shipto people way up north— if I were everto set foot on the motherland,my world would be flipped entirely.What does
by
··

Women are Never Hungry

Women are never hungryyou see, through the artists eyesthey are but food, noodle-like,long, voluptuous or nubileand ham-med in,always sitting besideupon but never at the tablewomen are to be consumed. women are never hungryas through the system of servitudethey make and make food,stirring,
by
··

Neiman Marcus Cookies

Preheat the ovenBeat the sugar with the wet ingredientsSift together dry ingredientsStir everything togetherRoll into ballsBake for 8-10 minutes I preheateverything.The oven ready forthe next batchbut nothing goes in. And stillit isn’t enough.I tried to put theingredients in there,the salmon,the avocado,the other
by
1 2 3 … 6