By: Pijush Kanti Deb It is not necessary on the part of a hunter and his casting of arrows to keep company with the guidelines, sometimes misleading and confusing to a hunter to reach his goal and its shadow- equally…
A poem is believed to be music to the ears – when murmured, hummed, spoken or sung. If it sounds perfect when read and spoken, it has passed the first and the most important test. Meaning and imagination are two…
By: Sri Ram I was sure he was going to pull the trigger. The tubular mouth of the semi-automatic pistol, was now pointing to the center of my chest. Chances were ample that, in a few seconds, it may spit…
By: Debleena Majumdar Right behind the corner, Right below the neon lights, Springs up everyday, The pop-up marketplace. What will you buy today? Designations decked up In priceless crystals, Buzzwords weighed by A kg of likes and shares, What will…
By: Debleena Majumdar It’s morning; I feel it. From behind the choke Of the closed curtains From below the shroud Of the bedcovers I reach out my hand To my trusted friend “Get out of bed” app. Black screen stares back….
Literary Yard has received the following press note about ‘Rhapsodies and Musings’ to be formally launched on 25 July, 2015. It is a literary criticism book that is expected to give more and relevant insights into the works of Sharmila…
By: William T. Hathaway When my wife and I were first married, not so very long ago, we slept in a queen-sized bed. It was our cocoon from the world, where we snuggled and dreamed together. After a while she…
By: Emon NC. It meandered diagonally across the surface of the glass, from the top right corner, to the left corner below. Neharika thought it was a stain, caused by the water leakage on the roof above. But a closer…
Nigerian telecommunications company, Etisalat (http://www.etisalat.com.ng) has announced the call for entries for the 2015 Etisalat Prize for Literature (http://prize.etisalat.com.ng) which is in its third year. The prize is the first ever Pan African prize celebrating debut African writers of published…
By: Raja Jaiswal I paced upstairs, the exhausted strokes of legs desperate to throw me to the third floor, where I reside. I wiped down my forehead a stream of sweat, so tired, I was like wanting to throw away…