-for Hany Babu Last week in the market you saw two fights, I saw one myself, today— wounded pride or unpaid debts, rain-fed flowers of worry. Neighbors and friends still trickle away, as rations and patience run low; now they’ve…
The late July damp has settled on the city like a sweat soaked shirt, but you continue on the footpath outside the hospital where workers go to smoke and crows gather to feed on stale roti and seed. Further on,…
—for Prashant Bhushan In the photo, a man in his early sixties sits astride a large, shiny motorcycle. He wears a short sleeved shirt and casual pants, and though it appears it may have been some time since he’s visited…
Remember how we threw open the windows to watch the storm pass over the city— it arrived just past midnight, and even after it was so far gone that we could no longer hear its thunder, it still lit up…
False Narrative (i) -for Rahul Roy and Amit Shah A book or film that relied on identically worded ‘witness statements’ in order to show that Kristallnacht, the Delhi riots, or any other pogrom was caused by a conspiracy between the…
I was thinking of your poem, ‘When Moonlight Moves Into the Dark’ as a comrade and I walked past the remnants of one of Delhi’s once wild forests. From our left came the sound of rain soaked branches and wind,…
-a letter to the editors Pandit or pauper, doctor or gangster, under the law, professions don’t matter: if they set out to kill you, without a court order, that’s not an ‘encounter’, that is a murder.
It arrives when you least expect it: dust dims the sky, doors rattle and bang— branches crack, tall trees bow, unruly dogs cower under cars. Sometimes, there is thunder and rain. It brings relief to those who labour and sweat,…
I want to sing you a sweet song tonight— the road you’ve chosen looks so long, tonight. When you were small, your dreams were full of dread; alone, avoiding sleep, you clung to night. Now fear and walls, and worse,…
-after Rowdy Rathore I know social media shouldn’t be a popularity contest, but some days, I can’t help but think that if only I could trade in my simile generator and the app I use to break and scan lines …