I am sitting cross-legged on my own “qabar”. The tablecloth is a white dupatta,embroidered with moths.Around......

A shoebox of memory, beauty, and staying curious....

Every day – A troop of men carrying guns Are marching to surrender their weapons through......

In ‘Changing My Mind’, Booker Prize winner Julian Barnes subtly inverts his earlier ‘The Sense of......

These days, I only date the dead. The thing about dead people is that they’re —not......

A butterfly. A fire. A sacrifice. They arrive at different times. One vanishes before I ever......

i left    my voice         in the paddies                a gasp tucked            between the rootsof young rice my griefwore anklets              and stepped barefoot......