Sunbath

    By Ayaan Halder

    The Sun today is a remnant of my mother

    and of a time when she hadn’t grown weary of me, and herself.

    And of clawing away at the orange peels 

    which spiraled between her fingers, 

    And then gathered at the foot of her bamboo-knit murha;

    which she had carried with her when she had slithered up the hills.

    And on which she used to curl up, 

    as if she were in her own womb.

    Come a cold winter afternoon. 

    murha – A traditional stool made in Assam usually using cane and bamboo sticks.

    Ayaan Halder is a poet, author and Doctoral Research Scholar from Gauhati university, Guwahati, Assam. His works have been published in various national and international platforms such as Sahitya Akademi’s Indian Literature MagazineThe WireThe Little Journal of Northeast IndiaKitaab Magazine, and Littera Magazine. His work mostly revolves around the coexistences and contestations in the day to day lives of indigenous and diasporic populations in India’s Northeast.

    Subscribe to our newsletter To Recieve Updates

      The Latest
      • Can I change the deal I have with my periods?

        From shame to strength: redefining my relationship with periods

      • When Did Normal Become the Most Dangerous Word

        "Normal" subtly erases diversity, forcing conformity and quiet exclusion

      • What We Lose When We Love Unequally

        The Failing Math of Emotional Labour

      • The Matchbox by Usawa #10

        North-East Special by Matchbox x The Little Journal of North East India

      You May Also Like
      • Do you talk about me to your friends by Ann Torday Gulden

        This insistent Grandmother My Granny My father’s mother Dead for twenty years

      • Baumbach’s Witness by Aswin Vijayan

        From where he lies, I see the crumbling walls of the bungalow

      • Growing a Callus By Sonia Dogra

        Three decades later we still hold hands My dermatitis infected fingers entwined

      • Celebrating Cancer By Vibha Rani

        Women, whether literate or not, run straight to a gynecologist—“lady doctor,” as