By: ’Deji W. Adesoye That claim, they opportuned my lay To the smart siege By which the devil from Hades was slain That walk like gold-merchant through Arcades of gold-freaks decked at every point Of waiting precious-ware-addicts That Like the…

This month’s Jaipur Literature Festival is set to shine a spotlight on the past as the annual event welcomes leading historians from across the globe. This was mentioned in a press statement. Covering wide ranging events from Stalingrad to the…

By: Vaisakh E. Hari I pulled myself up the clouds Burned down the world in their sleep Turns out I was the one in the dream And I was left with nowhere to go Sometimes the darkness stifles, Sometimes the…

By: Vaisakh E. Hari Sitting on a cliff overlooking a meadow, I am suffocated by the chain forged by myself, deep in the insecurities of my mind. The price of my safety weighing heavily on my limbs, a painful reminder…

By: Vaisakh E. Hari I walked carefree and gay, Through the grass, mountains and plains, Chasing after the secret, The surreal beauty all around, Testament to the divine power. I watched the seeds sprout into the sky, Warmed and fed…

By: Vaisakh E. Hari Have you ever a call, faint yet insistent, others may call a demons lure, complex and intrinsic in its sweetness, That I could see a benign angel singing. so clear, so strong was the melody, Paradise was…

  By: Ishita Bhaduri Translated by: Soma Roy You posted rains on the Facebook….. Two lacs fifty thousand likes…… Still the rains did not come. Instead some dark clouds Ashened the whole sky With a fistful of soft breeze. Not by Facebook…

By: Phil Temples “I should explain that I’m not a regular churchgoer, Father. I believe in a Creator, and I know the difference between right and wrong. Most of the time, anyway. Anyhow, I appreciate you comin’. “There are one…

By: Raymond Greiner  The year is 1923 and the country is in the midst of the Roaring Twenties. Euphoria has not ceased since the end of The Great War. The alcohol flows like water unfolding a new era of drink, dance…

By: Debadrita Chakraborty  The picture loomed at one end of the pastel hued wall. Deprived and lonesome. A face, alive and prominent amidst silhouetted men and women, greyed skyscrapers and a dilapidated blurry image of George Street. Eyes elegantly defined in…