-January 1, 2022 Flocks of sheep drift down from the hills, like dry leaves blown free by a gust of winter wind– they block highways, refuse any compromise. In Lutyens’ Delhi, the Home Minister paces and shouts: Who’s in charge…
Last week I crossed a narrow bridge strung over a wide canyon, and as I crossed, I felt a hole open in my belly. Last night under a swollen moon, I dreamt of Umar Khalid; I heard him laughing in…
The marching farmers fall, like wheat beneath a fast combine; young and old, they fall, stuck from behind, struck from behind! Watch the video: it is so clear, my friends, so clear; they’re marching peacefully: they do not fear, they…
-after Bertolt Brecht It’s straightforward; you know our history, so you will understand. Tyrants call it sedition when they think we are weak and an inconvenience when they know we are strong; the exploiters always say it is bad for…
It does not freeze, but nights are cold in the capital; brave farmers camp on the threshold of the capital. Farm bills are passed by a voice vote, without counting; surprising things are bought and sold in the capital. Ministers…
I’d just boarded a southbound train, or was it a DTC Bus? Maybe it does not matter; I got a seat all to myself. A man sitting four seats away beckoned me to come over; he looked like he’d been…
By the time you made it past all the checkpoints and texted it was already dark. A line of tractors, trucks and tents stretched down the highway for miles, and a soft spoken man kept trying to explain, We are…
-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…
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…
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,…
As June slips towards July, the heat turns heavy and wet, our coolers don’t work like they used to, we pray for the rains to return. We read of atrocities daily; no one is watching the watchmen— we post angry…
Delhi Police blames victims and those who preach peace; they say rain is ‘flame’. Delhi judge accepts unsaid words are sparks that blow; court rules for the fire. Delhi people know rain is rain and fire is fire; we’re a…
but the sparrows outside my window were debating the evening news— it had something to do with Amit Shah, and the kites that circle the drain. It had something to do with a murder of crows, solidarity, justice and strength.
1. Perhaps he wanted a sudden transfer, or maybe he just didn’t get the memo, but on Monday, a Delhi High Court judge granted bail to a man accused of arson during the Delhi ‘riots’. The judge remarked, ‘prison is…not…
Yesterday’s tomatoes pucker on the kitchen counter, and uneaten pulao turns under a midnight fan. Meanwhile in Surat, police fire tear gas at workers demanding the right to go home— beware my friends, the season is changing, and there’s more…
‘In the FIR, the police claimed that the communal violence was a “premeditated conspiracy” which was allegedly hatched by Mr. Khalid and two others.’ -The Hindu This world is built on sand and silt, dark clouds are hanging low; how…
In life, there are times like this when suddenly we can no longer domany of the things we once could—maybe you’re missing a strong drink and friends, and you’re sick of Netflixand your bad internet connection,or maybe your father keeps falling because he…
We lay awake, trembling.We no longer understood the rules, or where we were going. We stopped posting selfies;we flirted with memes and sarcastic stories. One by one, we got VPN’s.We shifted to Signal for politics, gossip and love. We could…
Maybe you remember a class 5 teacher, who beat students, sometimes evenleaving bruises, and how he would tell all the parents at Parent Teacher Meetingshow much it hurt him to have to discipline unruly children, and how the parents—even, perhaps,…
In your dream, thin corpses hang in a cold, dark room. Strong men come and silently slit them open— they are harvesting handfuls of organs or pearls. As you tell me this, news of another Jamia shooting and more election…