Literature - Page 7

‘Mother, to suckle and suckle insatiably The milk sentient from thy life breast’ —Subramania Bharati in Krishna – My Mother Alamelu, my mother, is a small made woman. But from her childhood, heavy burdens were placed on her shoulders.

My grandma was the first woman to be part of the newly built road. She had only one milch cow. A calf. (I took them grazing on the grass.) Four five hens that laid eggs for us. Boiled egg and

Cousin Freddie I’ve spoken often of the black sheep I know (if anybody is the black sheep of their family, I surely am) but let me devote some time here to one of the good eggs. Let me mention

“A well read woman is a dangerous creature,” it says and how about she who writes? to say absolutely nothing of her who should but cannot! Even though she must, she must, she must if she is to leave behind

When I was a little girl, I had a crush on the boy down the road. We’d walk home from school together. He still wouldn’t know that I held on to every moment the two of us had known. Wondered many nights

“Fix everything in the apartment, my parents can’t know you practically live here,” Mariam said to her boyfriend, Steve, before getting ready to take her parents to a Father’s Day breakfast. “I will, don’t worry,” Steve said, rolling out of

Unstoppable were her wings And each morning she woke up to fly Like a coo-coo, she could sing And aloud she would neigh She jumps, she dances And she loves to fly She delights it so when she glances, Down the

Abba was the kind of man you see every day, the kind you see, work with and watch him pass by, maybe even attend his daughter’s marriage reception. But Abba wasn’t the kind of man who’d incite any excitement in

It was almost past 5 O’clock. However, the lifts weren’t as crowded as many building officers worked on a roster due to the pandemic. I walked across the narrow alley to get the 174 bus. As usual, the receptionist on

Springing up from the ink of the lifeless lines sketched on the architect’s map the four walls started growing swiftly. Layer upon layer of bricks and mortar kept tearing the open into an inside and an outside. Strong they stood