October 22, 2010By Anita Sivakumaran My Never Naked Mother I There are such things to a child As there is the virgin birth to a Christian. My mother, I always imagined, Never took her clothes off. For sex she merely lifted up The skirts of her sari, the fold Upon fold and exposed Blameless legs, fuzzy in my Imagining […] May 12, 2010By Trisha Bora The Lonely Grave of Paula Schultz Tonight, there’s been a burial. A careless hammering of nails into a dry casket – by men drunk on moonshine – breaks the night, scattering the weevils and owls into the rising moon. They’ve taken my words, my amour, my knife and left me here to fill the […] February 18, 2010By June Nandy Woman Made always the same shop of decency from where my books and dresses are bought. my nationality is decided by the identity i hold between my legs. i have no Pandora’s Box in whose depth, i can store my fantasies. it comes swimming to me, his battle ground; bringing me currencies, carnal, banal. […] October 16, 2009By Tammy Ho Lai-Ming To Get Myself Some Water ~Translated from Ellen Lai’s ‘Grassland’, written in Chinese Our love toils about one period. On the bloody and lusty grassland You transform me into your self-pitied crippled rabbit. When you finally discard everything you have That is inside your permanently bulging equipment, You turn your back And ride towards […] September 14, 2009By Aditi Machado Iris and the sun Iris thought of the sun as a stain on the sky; it spread so keenly when it set, perhaps the lake was blotting paper. Why she paid to sit in a boat, no one knows. The oars scratched at the surface — relentless nibs –, disturbed the hulking dusk-yellow ever so […] August 28, 2009By Divya Rajan I drive by narrow lanes called eda in colloquial malayalam, the walls hoarded with large posters of Mohanlal and some teenager heroine (who won the National Award for Best Actress, I’m told, for carrying on precariously well as a mother of an eighteen year old, when she herself had but known eighteen mango- textured […] July 29, 2009By Lehar Zaidi Silk or the reason for my madness here’s the reason for my madness -chef emeril, food network The world is changing for me opening up unravelling like the strings of a cocoon silk smooth silk I had tied around myself covered myself with like a shell of bees and guzzling honey from my soul smooth […] June 23, 2009By Nitoo Das Beloved, I’m tired and this drying body remembers the crane- white of your nails tonight. The widows come in limp droves everyday and my ears scorch with their words. Today, Shanta told me “They gave me powders to choke my daughter.” Her hands kept fluttering to her head as if to touch dream hair. […] June 12, 2009By Sharanya Manivannan ONE OF INDIA’S most beloved writers, Kamala Das, passed away after a long illness on the morning of May 31 2009. A poet and memoirist, she died at the age of 75, after a long and conflicted career. Predictably, many of the obituaries focused on the more controversial aspects of her writing and life, […] March 09, 2009By Sharanya Manivannan
Sleep wherever is most convenient for you. Whoever and whatever is left in the morning, take home. Be kind. All the world is yours for the taking, long as you know that your little heart is theirs for the breaking. Leave lipstick on their china and on your letters. Make […] |
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