By Jayanta Mahapatra The yellowed diary’s notes whisper in vernacular.They sound the forgotten posture,the cramped cry that forces me to hear that voice.Now I stumble back in your black-paged wake. No uneasy stir of clouddarkened the white skies of your day; the silenceof dust grazed in the long afterniin sun, Read more…
By Jayanta Mahapatra A grey haze over the ricefields.The black cow grazing with her new-born calf,long-legged, unsteady—or trucks going past the high road:such things only claimthat I am looking out in search of memory,not death. Those little kisses on our cheeksmy long-dead grandmother gave me, orthe soft dampness of my Read more…
By Jerry Pinto All afternoon, I have tried to clean this space,It is not an easy task; it calls for a harsh dominion,A fierce exercise of will. Each paper is a palimpsestAnd all the oddments seem worthy of redemption. I begin quietly, ripping up evidence.Then a fury builds, my hands Read more…
By Paresh Tiwari The songbirds are out to feed and sing. To my untrained ear, it’s cacophony, albeit a pleasing one. To her, it means something much more. Velvet-fronted nuthatch, black-naped monarch and white-bellied erpornis, she ticks off the names with her fingers. ‘Perhaps you can live here when I’m Read more…
The rusted swing creakedThe faded, moth eaten cushionsSmelt of musty life; well treadedCardamom tea was freshly brewed however.. The morn was flush with a February breezeThe papers screamed nothing ,for a change;She sighed, the prawns had to be boughtA partner lost to the daily dose of drugs.. The routine never Read more…