Five Poems
By Ajmal Khan
This time,
When my Mobile phone rang
They understood
I am a Dalit.
By Ajmal Khan
This time,
When my Mobile phone rang
They understood
I am a Dalit.
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.
By Kouser Fathima
Laila, from the legend of Laila-Majnu, written by Amir Khusrau, was one of the few who was described as brown-skinned but with time even her description changed: beautiful became synonymous with fairness. However, the word, ‘Layla’, in Arabic means night or dark and hence she was named so after her dusky/dark complexion.
By Linda Ashok
There’s an eye in every injury for the world to see the wound
like a black bird masked in snow longing to stay
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.
By Neha Basnet
Like most middle-class children, I left the country with high hopes of a life-changing experience, which, fortunately or unfortunately, did happen. It was a life-changing experience for me and for my mother. And just like hundreds of thousands of other young Nepalese in their 20s, I fear I will barely survive in Nepal.
By Sutapa Basu
What had I done? Was it their hunger I had appeased or assuaged my guilt? Here I was, unthinkingly buying inessential food to mark just a festive occasion and there they were… starving for just a morsel!
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 …
By Binu Karunakaran
Two poems
By Safia Begum
What also adds to the strength of the book are some hitherto unexplored sources like his personal unpublished letters that he received from his friends and admirers, also known as Manto Papers. No scholar has so far accessed these letters and these new archival sources offer a rare glimpse into Manto’s life and his times.
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?
By Manash Bhattacharjee
This Monsoon: A Ghazal