Anu Mahadev As I write this in anticipation of the release of our next issue, snow is swirling and blanketing everything around me – summoning peace and suffusing the world with silence. But the precursor to this season was equally beautiful. It is good to know that despite the threat of climate change; some natural…
Tag: ageing
TWI Fiction: Life’s Assets
What is an asset to life? This short story dedicated to the narrator’s sister answers it Sneha Sudha Komath My earliest memories are of my sister’s childhood. Of her riding back and forth on the hinged gates of our house in Mysore. She would call out to neighbours, passers-by, and especially the old Malayali postman,…
TWI Poetry: Destined to Go
Chaitali Sengupta The evening drops. A blue darkness,on the embittered trees,lamenting on their barrenness.The bark of my body, stiff and limp, nowhas grown vulnerable feet. Youth is gnarled in my ancient limbs,missing, almost like a language lost.The spark of the yore,sleep in the marrow, shadowed by time. The heart beats, morphed nowby each pore of loneliness.It is…
TWI Writerly: Les Petites Revolutions
A descriptive essay on how Bangladesh looked and felt in 2018. An essay on how small acts of rebellion are the cornerstone of a revolution. An essay for the future. Nafis Shahriar There is a particular event I remember from 2018, an event that has been etched into my memory in the guise of a…
TWI Fiction: When the Dawn Comes
A short story on a mother’s pensiveness Madhurima Vidyarthi It was a chink of the first light squinting in through the curtains that woke her. At first she didn’t know where she was. Was this the big bed she shared with her sisters? No, that was softer – this bed was small, hard. And who…
TWI Art: 2 Artworks
Sakshi Gupta Once Upon A Time This tree is somewhere standing majestically in the Cubbon Park of Bangalore. As I enter this place, I feel each of those twisted and crooked branches reaching out to me. I sit under one of them, suddenly aware of the glaring sun which had been following me until now….
TWI Poetry: Prosthetic Beings
Divisha Chaudhry I hug youYou hug me The prosthetic gods are born like this We all contain divine elementsIt is the present that is rustedand so when we hug We become something plasticSomething which we manufacturedPatiently, tediously and diligently We hugWe become someone extraordinarySomething polished and We dissolve into our prosthetic parts That cling against…
TWI Poetry: Bathing an Old Woman
Basudhara Roy Coming to an old woman’s bodyis like coming to the end of the earth.A rainforest weary of plundershrinks here to autumnal renunciation. In her, an ancient monumentstanding erect to generations of awe seeks anonymity, dissolution.The face rises and sets with the sun. The bones’ currency spent, they lookfor reasons to succumb to gravity.Decalcified, they…
The Woman Inc. 