It may have been my ancestors who held the blade, but my fingers are the ones......

Slices Bombay, 1993 i. I lift the cover of the sandwich – chunks of chicken in......

The 1990s The shrill twittering of birds in the Burgundy House backyard stopped Rita D’Costa from......

A mountain pine in the plains. How did it come in this unfrequented alley? How does......

A casuarina takes roots and bears fruits swiftly, providing strength and shade, carrying in its powerful......

Memory becomes voice; silence becomes ritual, return, and witness....

They came with silence.I came with sand. Handfuls of it.Under my nails, behind my teethcarried from......