Fiction & Poetry

What is your verb
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Khusro to Bullah. Ada to Parveen
यह, वह, वो

He, she, they
Lover or Beloved? Woman or Man?

By Carol D'Souza
March 1, 2023
What is your verb
Love belongs to me too
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I see people and places,
Couples and crushes
I hear giggles and whispers.
These are the secrets untold to me.

By Gayathri
March 1, 2023
Love belongs to me too
Did you see?
A dark path lit subtly by street lights

They’ punch him
with the pejorative
‘sissy’
and blame him for his smooth skin
and pink lips
for all ‘their’
disoriented gazes.

By Prithvijeet Sinha
March 1, 2023
Did you see?
At Chattar Manzil
A side view of a historical monument during daytime.

We are two boys in our early twenties
who can read touch like that, who have broken into
a 200-year-old mansion, without permission,
to see from above where people like them go
after 377 has been read down only for those
who can stay behind closed doors — in the custody
of cheap hotels, or houses that welcome nights
with the sound of latches closing.

By Aditya Vikram
February 16, 2023
At Chattar Manzil
Two Poems: ‘A room of one’s own’ & ‘Sunshine’
Photograph of the roots of a tree
You couldn’t begin to say the self Before someone helps you finish — Self-centred Self-serving Selfish
By Carol D'Souza
September 19, 2022
Two Poems: ‘A room of one’s own’ & ‘Sunshine’
Two Poems: ‘Only sometimes’ & ‘No filter’
Photo of a trees in a forest. There is little distance between the trees. At the centre is a singular tree with twisting and gnarly branches.
Sometimes my love is as expansive as the earth itself Patient None of the restlessness of a filly
By Carol D'Souza
May 3, 2022
Two Poems: ‘Only sometimes’ & ‘No filter’
Two Poems: ‘Stepwells’ & ‘In the Dimly Lit Room’
Held between a thumb and the index finger is the delineation of a golden-yellow leaf with sunlight shining on it.

Just like on a misty morning,
we both
sit
without a shred of adornment
on these ancient stepwells
and the call of the hummingbirds
offer us sensations,
imagination,
and our innocence

By Prithvijeet Sinha
May 3, 2022
Two Poems: ‘Stepwells’ & ‘In the Dimly Lit Room’
Three Poems: ‘Untitled’, ‘Alchemy’ & ‘Third date’
A photograph depicting two hands reaching towards each other, but not touching, in a darkened backdrop

He said ‘tender’ today/in such a way/I thought/I’d definitely like him saying/dirty things to me

By Carol D'Souza
February 1, 2022
Three Poems: ‘Untitled’, ‘Alchemy’ & ‘Third date’
I will meet you post quarantine
An impression of red lips on a white surface.

A kiss for the side of your neck One for the last of your back For a year that we…

By Aishwarya Shrivastav
December 1, 2021
I will meet you post quarantine
There I sat down and wept

“Be yourself, Sarah. Awkward smiles, empty silences, weird laughter, and all. It’s just a part of being human. Loving someone physically is never not awkward. Even if it’s a monogamous relationship. It’s only the comfort of familiarity that makes you think otherwise.”

By Anna Lynn
April 19, 2021
There I sat down and wept
Constructing Pillars
A low angle photograph of whitish coloured pillars/columns on a building

Unbiased academic                                                                  Pillars   Stand rock hard and Straight-shoot to the sky.                                                         Pillars   My teacher tells me all…

By Bhavyakirti Singh
April 5, 2021
Constructing Pillars
Murderously simple thing

“She rightly read the moment while I stumbled through a second-hand text.” – Jeanette Winterson   But second-hand texts lay…

By Carol D'Souza
April 5, 2021
Murderously simple thing
Jessica Singh’s Poetry

SPREAD. BUT NOT READ   I feel like you walk over me, all over me, Your gait was long and…

By Jessica
April 5, 2021
Jessica Singh’s Poetry
Poem: ‘The thing about crushes’
A picture of a rainbow coloured heart hanging on a wall

The thing about crushes, is that eventually they stop being that. I’m not saying love dies or anything, I’m just saying, that Love never was and sometimes it takes a few months of tumbling across perfumed bedsheets

By Breton Lalama
February 1, 2021
Poem: ‘The thing about crushes’
Poem: ‘A debauchee’s ode to self-love’
A black and white picture of a person’s legs folded in the form of v

All I have known of loving men is emotional labour, And by that, I mean back-breaking, soul-sucking toil, Oh, the relief of carrying nothing but yourself, Oh, the relief of taking nothing but pleasure from their sex

By Malini Gopalakrishnan
February 1, 2021
Poem: ‘A debauchee’s ode to self-love’
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