Posts from the ‘Art’ category

Three Poems

By Madura Katta
I am a girl. Seventeen years old. Poet.
Brown-colored skin. Plays soccer. Junior at school.
Enjoys reading.
Plays soccer, collects coins, has glasses
Has life. Wait, has life?

Three Poems

By Raj Shekhar Sen
and suddenly Bukowski walks in through the doors
and before he jumps out the windows
he tells you like he would,
all great art is horse-shit,
buy tacos.

Rabindranath Tagore’s ‘The Broken Home’ (Nastanirh): Chapter 13 & 14

By Lopa Banerjee
Bhupati sat beside Charu on the ground and touched her softly, without saying a word. He did not know how to give her solace. He did not understand that when she attempted to smother her pain, she did not like the presence of a spectator in the ordeal.

A Chapter in World Cinema: Enchanting Disenchantment in Eran Kolirin’s ‘The Band’s Visit’

By Rituparna Borah
As we watch Kolirin’s movie, Max Weber’s despairing ‘iron cage’ goes into a tailspin from the pages of his manuscripts and we suddenly find it in The Band’s Visit: we revolve in a circle of conflicted feelings.

Book Review: Five Malayali Poets Champion Erotica

By Linda Ashok
This anthology is the best permutation of scientia sexualis and ars erotica; this anthology does help us measure that erotica is beyond casual pandering to commercial sex or an ordinary arousal, it is the arousal of craft, of language, of experiences, beyond the literal.

Book Review: Aatish Tasee’r ‘The Way Things Were’

By Faiza Farid
Aatish Taseer’s The Way Things Were is a literary delight that reminds of Fitzgerald and Proust and Rushdie with the occasional entry of V.S Naipaul. A story that stays with the reader.

Flags I want to hoist just for a moment and then burn them all

By Goirick Brahmachari
Pakistani, because Sain Zahoor fucks me up,
Bangladeshi – there, there, my roots lie
Icelandic, for the music is high
American, for the Delta Blues and Jazz and Beats and Dylan and Malcom X …

Two Poems

By Binu Karunakaran
Two poems

Rabindranath Tagore’s ‘The Broken Home’ (Nastanirh): Chapter 11 & 12

By Lopa Banerjee
While she looked into Amal’s face, Charu had noticed his thin, frail form today. The youthful charm and vigor of his appearance had withered away, and she felt an unexplained sting in her heart to see that. She had no doubt that he was plagued by his forthcoming farewell, but then, why did he behave so strangely with her?