it transpires with a honkthat shatters terra’s atmospherea mute swan sundering through gravity’s larynxlike a winged......

Why do I love the work of László Krasznahorkai? Because he challenges every part of my......

I picked up the baby girl. She wasn’t breathing. 2:30 in the morning, roughly. The labour......

In the summer of 1985, my friend Eve phoned to ask if I would please accompany......

The salon is called “Iya’s Place.” Iya passed away five years ago, and now her daughter,......

Bijoy wakes up from his nap beneath the orange tree to find the boy staring at......

Apprehension enveloped her as she ran from room to room calling out his name,  pounding on......

We are often prone to not understand and comprehend the quality of regular elements brewing a......

Dadu knew he was close—closer than he had ever been—to his own vanishing from earth. It......

Rituparna: Congratulations Sumana on this wonderful memoir. I had a really great time reading through it......