top of page
9 Lives Part 2
Sri City: Life 5 – The Refugee I woke inside a man His stomach clawed at itself with hunger His lips cracked dry as old stone His feet were torn from walking too far on ground that never ended Around him lay the wreckage of what once had been a village Charred walls leaning like broken ribs Smoke still clinging to the air though the fire had died long ago Bodies half buried under dust Some small some still clutching rags of clothing that had once been loved His arms carried n


Rites of Passage
Source : The Indian Express She stands looming over me, and I feel the tic tac graze my scalp. The grasp is firm, the callused hand balances my head from teetering back. She adorns a saree, it is tamarind tinged. Two black beads; and a maroon dot stare at me, with intent. She appraises me, having secured the jet-blackness of my untamed hair, which she nurses religiously with home ground shikakai . My eyes sting at the seams, and I feel my cheeks wrinkled and puffy. I shuffle
Small Thing Called Comfort
5 November, 2025 You have not been doing well recently, and I can't find it in me to reach out. I believe even if I were to show up one sunny morning, with baskets of fruits and boxes of sandesh (a Bengali sweet) , with a splitting grin and hair all oiled up, you would turn me away. It is not to say that I despise you now, or if ever. I don’t think feelings are that linear. But I do admire you. I even hope to be you someday. Probably not in the same ways you’d like. You’ve do
Prologue – 0
Sri City: I died in silence No grand finale no last words no mourning faces leaning over my bed One moment I was asleep and the next I was somewhere else It was not heaven not hell not the endless black of nothing It was a hollow place A corridor that had no walls and yet I felt confined Like being buried alive in air That was where I met him He was tall and bent slightly forward as if always laughing at a joke only he understood His eyes were pale as glass and his mouth stre


Noise and Knowing
Image: https://pngtree.com/freepng/transforming-the-maze-of-thoughts-into-a-clear-ideaa-vector-illustration-vector_12743357.html Sri City: Friedrich Nietzsche once wrote, “There are no facts, only interpretations ,” a statement that feels strikingly relevant today as we navigate an era awash with information, yet where truth seems increasingly elusive. Stories and opinions barrage us from phones, laptops, and conversations, amplified by social media platforms like X, Instagr
9 Lives Part 1
Prologue – 0 I died in silence No grand finale no last words no mourning faces leaning over my bed One moment I was asleep and the next I was somewhere else It was not heaven not hell not the endless black of nothing It was a hollow place A corridor that had no walls and yet I felt confined Like being buried alive in air That was where I met him He was tall and bent slightly forward as if always laughing at a joke only he understood His eyes were pale as glass and his mouth


Make India Meme Again
Sri City: There is a particular unease that comes with living in today’s India, a democracy that proudly calls itself the “world’s largest,” yet increasingly defines itself by identifying and excluding its supposed enemies within. I recently read Anand Teltumbde’s essay in The Wire , “India, a Country of Anti-Nationals,” and was struck by the clarity with which it exposes the new architecture of this exclusion. In a nation that once built upon pluralism and argumentation, t
When Freedom Drew a Line
Before the ink touched the map, there was only us — shared wells, shared festivals, the same monsoon beating on our roofs. Then...
Yearning
We chase the stars that grace the skies, But turn from the truth that lay before our eyes. A fleeting flame feels sweeter than, the ones...


Cartography of Absence - An Inquiry Into Independence as Ritual Mutilation
https://pin.it/3jEn9RJ6b Case I. The Preliminary Surgical Loss When the Union Jack came down in 1947, India was declared free, yet the...


the aftertaste of summertime & other myths
god is real & she's hungover & curled over the toilet in my bathroom. its june & god knows my coffee order but hasn't said my name in...
Heat
I sit by the sea, watching waves come by Approaching the sand, then drifting away Their sense of confidence, turned into fear Perhaps...


Summer-nostalgia
the air conditioning is turned off, it’s 6:30 a.m, and i’m awake. the onslaught of sunlight, my curtains like a sieve, the dust...
In the Mouth of the Void?
I woke to the taste of my flesh. Not the metallic sting of blood on my bitten lip, nor the dull ache of distressed fingertips, but...


The Gift
The humid air hung heavy in the slum, a suffocating blanket woven with the stench of garbage and the despair of its inhabitants. Maria...


Repeat
Prashansa Pasari She had been here before. The sweet, mildly fermented taste of cherry wine settled into her tongue. The somehow fresh...


and again.
Tonight I started thinking about how things come back around. After many months, secretly, patterns repeat. Like my mindless doodles...


If The World Was Ending
It scares me a little that I wasn't surprised, When what I saw coming home I surmised, To be the end of the world, and how could I, With...


Chiaroscuro
Affogato, known in full as gelato affogato al caffè is an Italian dessert comprising a scoop of vanilla ice cream, topped with hot...


The Darkness Won't Hurt Me
The darkness won’t hurt me. The slivers of light will— sharp as a knife through the gap between the curtains. There is something in the...
bottom of page


