Shyama got up around six, poked the curtain aside with her toes. Smiled. Another Chennai morning,......

My skin sun, my breasts moon.Chandra, you spoke in riddles.The letters swam. I stared at them,trying......

Poems that inhabit the persona of the Goddess Durga, and speak in a voice...

My skin sun, my breasts moon.Chandra, you spoke in riddles.The letters swam. I stared at them,trying......

Chicana theorist, feminist and queer writer par excellence, Gloria E Anzaldúa...

The hideous gang-rape in Delhi is part of the continuum of violence millions of Indian women......