Before leavingthere is timeto look aroundand dust offall thathappened.The overgrown rubber treewhere whistling bulbuls hid,the rose......

“Pass me the spatula,” she presented her opened palm. The tomato puree bubbled, sending out herbaceous......

In another rendering, Kunti wondersWhat if she didn’t set her lovechild in the river. She did......

The rain water poured down the eaves all of yesterday. This morning, when I woke up......

Avinuo Kire’s Where the Cobbled Path Leads is anchored in a familiar terrain, Nagaland, a place......

I incline to the center to stay close to home— carapaceof dust from the milling crowd......

I like pressing the calling bell in my Dida’s house. It is on the wall in......

The pigeon mistook the glass for the sky,rocketing energy hit the window—the shock was mute. The......

In that week leading to Benny’s death, the Jacob kids were mostly at the next-door Philips’.......

Caption: Borshamongol with Robigeetika and Mastermoshai; Bhaswati in green sari in the front; Mastermoshai right behind......