By Sadiq Zafar
During the early hours of the day, he reads and prepares himself for his post-graduate studies. At other times, he drives the auto rickshaw for his survival in Delhi. From whatever he earns, he has to pay off five hundred rupees to the owner of the vehicle.
By Amit Kumar Das
Find me a home,
a small corner that doesn’t weep the slow decay of time,
a bed of forest where roots never give up in the face of melting clocks
By Meghna Roy
I smile and say that
Home is no more a noun, but
an adjective that qualifies this
long sentence from Kashmir.
By Deeptesh Sen
All through the winter,
I fucked strange women
to convince myself
that trauma is a carnival of truth.
By Syed Kamran Ali
The first part of the minaret at the bottom is built in the shape of a Mosque, the part just above this resembles a Church, the third part reflects the architectural design of a Sikh Gurudwara and the top most part of the minaret is built in the shape of a Hindu temple.
By Lopa Banerjee
Two poems on urban life.
By Neha Basnet
In Nepal, customers are bound to carry bundles of cash with them and still end up being cheated. With digital payment systems, customers simply press a few buttons with their fingers and the funny money is gone, just like in a casino. Unfortunately, such services are limited.
By Lopa Banerjee
Her thoughts glided between her life, then and now. Life had threatened her with its clarion call, which she tried her best to dismiss with her arrogance, her vitality, her quest to live. Her mother’s death had pushed her, vehemently and mercilessly, to a bottomless pit from which she pulled herself out slowly.
By Abu Saleh
The opening day of the festival was at the L V Prasad Preview Theatre. Before the inaugural session, around forty people gathered one by one and started shouting. At first they broke the entrance door panels, windowpanes, one TV screen and began to throw flower vases. They went inside the projector room, damaged some of the old film reels of the institute/distributor (LVP).
By Nazmul Hussain
The statement shook me and forced me to think that the discrimination is not only based on religious background but also on culture and language, too. I felt a tremor but, taking control of myself, asked the couple gently: ‘Do you think I am not Bengali?
Cafe Dissensus Everyday 