By Abhay Kumar
My mother worships Lord Rama but she has never shown any interest in the disputed site. She has never shown her desire to get the Ram Temple built on the same place of Babri Masjid. For her, her Ram is with her. Her Ram does not live in Ayodhya at the site of the Babri Masjid nor does He live in Nagpur, Ashoka Road or R.K. Puram in New Delhi.
By Mallika Bhaumik
When we were finally dropped off at the airport and waved Daniel good bye, we felt we have seen more of the sky, felt more of sunshine, touched the ebb and flow of raw emotions crisscrossing within us. In short, we lived more of life during these few days as tourists.
By Rahman Abbas
Abhishek Shukla, Vipul Kumar, Vikas Sharma Raz, Pradeep Sarkash, Tripurari Kumar are the ones who are now known as young talented Urdu poets, and they have proved that the politics of hate is not relevant anymore. They have learnt the Urdu script and proved that Hindustani can be acknowledged and expressed in two scripts.
By Murtaza Ali Khan
Vajdovich talks to Café Dissensus Films Editor, Murtaza Ali Khan, about the latest trends in Hungarian cinema, subsidies extended to Indian films shot in Hungary, and the growing popularity of Indian cinema in Hungary.
By Nishi Pulugurtha
On the day of the school reunion, we school mates looked different, we were different, but that day when we met and spoke, we became school girls all over again – those giggles, that laughter, those stories, it was as if that time in between had not wrought much change.
By Nabanita Sengupta
In a dark, scary world of collective amnesia stretched to its extreme, the only ray of hope is in form of the little girl who personifies a new beginning. ‘Smug’ raises questions, forces us to think but leaves each of us to find our own answers and undertake our own journeys.
By Dev Chaudhry
I took my pen from the counter and we left the shop, without saying anything. Nobody spoke anything on our way back to school. We had never had such a long journey in our life before. A senseless journey with dead feet and lead laden hearts.
The Postman’s White Nights (2014) is an elegiac poem about a gradually perishing community. Director Andrey Konchalovskiy’s unforced quasi-documentary approach and perfect realization of this almost mythical atmosphere offers a deeply reflective cinematic experience.
By Binay Majumdar
I told Mona—Hey Mona, do you know Leonardo Da Vinci was born in a village near Akuli Hills in Italy? He painted the Mona Lisa. You are a Mona; and even she is a Mona! This Leonardo was an engineer and a mathematician too. His hand-painted pictures of helicopters are still there.
By Moinak Dutta
A song played at the bar. ‘Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy…’ Poorvi took the shots. They were lovely. There was a slight burning feeling in her throat. But that was better, much better than all the burns she had borne within.