Fiction & Poetry
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
You speak in so many tongues to me as you journey languorously down my body.
The bathroom stall becomes a sanctuary, a stage, a confession booth.
Khusro to Bullah. Ada to Parveen
यह, वह, वो
He, she, they
Lover or Beloved? Woman or Man?
…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?
To be a gentle / friendship breaker for S. To be // a candle-lit confetti apology for S.
We spoke about everything and nothing at once, her presence like a balm to an ache I hadn’t realised I carried.
हमें नहीं बनना महान
हमें इंसान ही रहने दो।