Mumbai Zen
By Yash Pandit
Rust has settled into the veins of time;
it waits, for a flash,
for an hour,
then runs again.
By Yash Pandit
Rust has settled into the veins of time;
it waits, for a flash,
for an hour,
then runs again.
By Goirick Brahmachari
Every fucking word is holy!
Holy marriage, Holy infidelity.
By Esha Biswas
A Poem
By Goirick Brahmachari
A Poem
By Saon Bhattacharya
It doesn’t deserve my love,
It doesn’t deserve my softness,
It doesn’t deserve my warmth,
It doesn’t deserve my womb.
By Rita Bhattacharjee
It was the night when men turned into beasts – lurking at street corners, hiding in plain sight.
Gargoyles clawed out my guts with steel-tipped talons, feasting on flesh,
each of my wounds, a vagina oozing blood.