Changing Chennai
Sharanya Manivannan wishes her adopted city’s old façade of a cosmopolitan cradle for the arts were…
Building Alone
I’ll take the radiant, radioactive half-life of love over half-love, writes Sharanya Manivannan.Just before writing this,…
Poem by Sharanya Manivannan
Firewife When you did not come back for me, I bit off my braid and…
Excerpts from the story “Afternoon Sex”
Ravi works every day, for hours at a stretch. The first year we were together he…
The Chicken Trusser
Seven in the morning in the Chintadripet quarter, and on the next street are women with…
The Ten Idylls
“Even one’s own tradition is not one’s birthright; it has to be earned, repossessed.” – A….
Belly
A coquettish Maria de Medeiros, playing the moll in Pulp Fiction, lounges in bed, practically purring with…
Memory of Trees
My first paid job was at an independent bookstore in Kuala Lumpur’s fashionable Telawi neighbourhood. It…
SITA AS LUCIFER
In Sanskrit there is a verb, aranyarodhan, which means “weeping in the wilderness”. I discovered the…