The Chicken Trusser
Seven in the morning in the Chintadripet quarter, and on the next street are women with…
Seven in the morning in the Chintadripet quarter, and on the next street are women with…
Through an intensely personal experience, Jai Arjun Singh presents a story of love, loss and death…
I live in a city teeming with people. There are so many of us wandering around,…
Don’t go mad. In abject solitude, alienation and despair, a priority in the backward capitalism of the…
A performance of an epical scale was unfolding before my eyes. The long winding queue— some…
Find me another word that is not so ready. I want a word that waits and…
When the flooding in the basement got worse she slipped into a silly dress and danced…
Feasts and hallowed days spin on orbits seldom grazing mine, till your voice swings past meridians…
On nights like these when silvery drops of rain dance with glee on my roof, bathe…
When sleepy eyes of the night hand over charge of our world to bright-eyed sunrays, what…