February 26, 2018

there she was, reading a Murakami,
the light arranging itself carefully around her young
shoulders, iced tea sweating, waiting for no one,
expecting no one, no phone, no ring,
just a fragment of consciousness filling the now,

I let the years run through my hands like gr...

February 25, 2018

Then the point comes when you know you can’t save
it, it will break and crumble and drown in the milk and

that last cookie, the murky outline of that inevitability
will forever remain the memory of the night it began to

end. You know I never liked this table, the stripes...

February 24, 2018

No, keep that soft rain that reminisces against the window
pane like the tinkling of wine glasses, keep that sky, sparkling

in the froth of kinetic light, that wind slipping through the trees
in timeless laughter, keep your dazzling festivity, that universe

dancing slowl...

February 23, 2018

What colour is a fallen leaf in the dark? I watched him measure
libations of water and sesame seeds, chanting under his

breath. It was Amavasya, the period of the dark moon, the time
for sacred rituals for the dead. The silver spoon trembled in his

wrinkled hand. How man...

September 28, 2017

It wasn’t much of a bus stand
but then it wasn’t much of anything,
several hours into the owl’s first cry,
its metal jaws shuddering, the last bus

disgorged its groaning load of human effluent,
bags tightly clasped to their bony, wheezing chests,
disappearing into the b...

September 27, 2017

She let her fingers slide over the rich brocade,
the saree that had belonged to her mother;
for ten years it had sat in her cupboard, untouched,
bitter memories tarnished in its glimmering folds,

she stared at the border of mythical birds, woven in

delicate green and gol...

September 26, 2017

With grandma, there was always a god
who balanced karmic echoes with miracle and punishment,
and spoke to her with a familiarity that came
from decades of negotiation and compromise. After all, 
the day grandpa died, who made sure the rains stopped
so the buses could g...

September 25, 2017

It had been a while
or maybe it hadn’t,
she tried, once more, the way he had taught her,
savouring the moment like a grain of rice
still covered in its husk of quiet,
feeling its shape and size and taste,
letting its gritty voice fill her hungry mind
with exhilaration but
it w...

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ISSN 2470-3834 (online)

ISSN 2470-7775 (print)