May 2016

Ghazal for Goregaon & Other Poems

Alone When my friends left the country, one by one, I ate and drank and sang at their farewells, talking

The Testimony of God

Premashila’s seven-year-old son died on the train. Mother and son were travelling to their village from Hyderabad along with some

La Revolution

The Yanks kill and me I read Mao Mao The jester is king and me I sing Mao Mao The

Historical memory and modern Greek literature : the case of Elias Venezis

The Syrian civil war and refugee wave are among the most dramatic events in recent years. Most of us have

MILANO-VIGEVANO-?

We know where we’re born, we can imagine where we will live and we don’t know where we will die.

Why Not A full Fledged One

I begin to offload. Not mere  clothes but  more . . . those  thoughts  hanging  about heavily. Stubbornly unmoving, intruding

“Viva la Poesia!” Ahmed Tahsin Shams reads Sudeep Sen’s stunning new anthology

“I will read to you, read to you from / this book of forthcoming, this / text in variations: /

Gaajan -A Hindu Folk Festival: Biswarup Saha

Gaajan is a Hindu festival associated with deities Shiva, Neel and Dharmathakur. Gajan spans around a week, starting at the

House With Legs & Other Paintings: Santanu Mitra

Santanu Mitra has obtained Bachelor of Visual Arts and Master Degree in Printmaking from Government college of Art  & Craft,

Excerpt from a Dream

And when realization struck the ethereal bird singing away a faint melody that scored the background of a vague dream,

The Letters by Laura Pugno

Laura Pugno was born in 1970 in Rome, Italy. Her publications include four novels, “La caccia” (Ponte alle Gra­­zie 2012),

‘Majjhim Pantha’ by Roshnara Mishra – A Review by Anirban Bhattacharya

…..and the search continues. A poet, bewildered, observes the very similitude of every tedium of life, whispering “ekta rasta/hothat-i arekta

Anathpindat & other Poems

Anathpindat* Rotten sea shell gashes your opium dream Before the morning prayer dance floor dishevels. While taking coffee in this

Bon Appétit

I rose stiffly as he entered the dining room – noisily, laboriously – and plodded towards the table where I

Zen poems

1) These rain drops Fresh and full Drenched in the Touch of sky Come dancing Like a naughty child