Martina Reisz Newberry 20/20 I learned early on that poor eyesight was a dandy excuse to avoid meeting faces. I walked the world in blurs and shadows, only recognized cruelty by its sound.  Neon lights and stars blended with traffic signals and the moon, at its least sliver,  seemed delusional. It was easy to be…

Sarita Jenamani Untitled The stretched earth lies thirstylike a crumbled blotting paperThe scorching whirlwindhas blown away with itstanzas from the book of lullabiesThe remaining pages of historyhave lost their wayin the dark laneof the centuryPassing through the nomadic shadowsyou have to move to the fringe of the timeIt is not enough to set freethe restless…

Manjiri Indurkar Desire Has No History Every seven years, your body destroys each of its cells, and regenerates new ones, reads a post on Facebook that puts a smile on the faces of those in need of it. In the post-truth world, this might be the only information necessary to win the war on our…

Anu Mahadev Renewal Walk through the holy water. They said that is the only way tobaptize yourself, shed your sins. But I burst forth – a rush of blooms,a blossom of mistakes. Like a cardamom forced out of its huskwith a pestle. Not every renewal comeswith nectar and snowmelt. Sometimes, the popularity conteststook me too…

Alolika A. Dutta   plain jamdani sarees hanging from the drying rod in the balcony                             beside unclasped blouses printed with shekhawati paintings of nal damyanti undressed along a riverbank                        …

Sahana Ahmed Dear Sister                               Beyond  the ways of my sun,  the germs in my veins, the brass in my claims,  my purdah, my mane – I am you too. The wounds of my walls,  the tombs of my lanes, the…

Lauren Tivey Hospital of Living Things The August buds of my Chinese hibiscus open  into saucers; vivid scarlet, or marmalade bleeding to marigold, some parchment white, their throats kissed with cherry lipstick. I tend their fussy show, check for aphids, mildew, other blight. Engorged pistils spring for the sun, and I quiver stamens in their…

Rhea Roy Ganguly When I wake up, I’m tired after only six hours of sleep I think about how I must go to work today I sigh and decide to skip breakfast it’s not worth the time. When I arrive, I start working immediately I have no friends, and here, greetings are useless. My wife…

Janani Balaji what makes a woman? is it her pink dress or sparkly purse? her six-inch shoes, her glossy lipstick? her high-pitched voice and plump lips? is it her cooking skills or demure behavior? her petite voice, her perfect figure? her children who look ‘just like her’? but a woman can wear trousers carry a…