Fiction & Poetry
On calls your voice greets me, balm to the parched everything.
Today I told him that rain wasn’t from evaporation or condensation. I said clouds cried because they missed water so much.
I’ve never known the answer to childhood questions…
It is not a word you expected in this poem,
Or in any poem at all.
These are their words, their vision,
a blade that left a cut in my veins
He didn’t wear his identity on his sleeve, and therefore he seemed more real than most people who did.
दो कविताएं – हवेली आधुनिकता के आवरण में क्षयग्रस्त पारंपरिक पुरुषत्व को दर्शाती है, जबकि चारपाई कठोर और लचीली अभिव्यक्तियों के बीच विरोधाभास प्रस्तुत करती है, जहां जो जिस चारपाई पर बैठते हैं, उसके गुणों को अपनाते हैं, जो भिन्न-भिन्न पुरुषवादी पहचानों का प्रतीक है।
…what is there to misunderstand
about hands that take without asking,
about silence twisted into consent
by those who have never had to be afraid?
Aria walked into her school’s auditorium, giggling with the rest of the girls, because they were about to have their very first Sex Ed workshop.
It’s clear Ms. Nisha is not here to shame them or lecture them. She’s here to give them words when they have none.
We spoke about everything and nothing at once, her presence like a balm to an ache I hadn’t realised I carried.
That little baby born in spring,
Shall “he” identify as Queer?
Regardless, Polaris feels queer!