Raising the profile of South Asian writers since 2007
To smoke a beedi and regale in its burning ingredients to perfection is not easy. One ought to puff at it between every five seconds. It’s not like the pricey cigarette that is able to burn itself naturally, whether you blow its filtered-butt or not. And so, the humble beedi finds its audience in the …
1. The Spot In my heart there was a spot where we stood where I stand, still. And flowers that grew there have withered and died around me, when the seasons changed. I miss them, and for this, I waited there, for yet another spring. When spring came, and while they grew again – dancing …
Aunty Safia was Uncle Safdar’s wife and she talked to people in the air. This is how my mind sketched her first portrait in my childhood. Uncle Safdar was my father’s elder brother and lived with my grandparents. He was a tall thin man with one of the kindest faces I have ever seen, and …
“I…love…you”, and I loved you too. Your sound, a sweet voice, excited, so happy I’ve come around. Moans, groans and changing tones through a day, later arguing, shouting, swearing, the good times didn’t stay. Your Chanel perfume, I think that I can still smell, And the over-cooked lasagne, you thought I couldn’t tell. Left the …
By Shruti Parija Snap went the bond that begun in great revelry With the umbilical cord The bond that was meant to nurture To care, to love, to understand The yesteryears were proof enough That the bond God forged was beleaguered Bit by bit, Piece by Piece Unstrumming the strings of my essence Untying the …
By Najma Yusufi Yasmeen Begum divorced her first husband for the better prospect of the second. He died. She then married again. The third marriage was still going because he had a title and hadn’t let her kill him, yet. His title was something she had always craved. She became Mrs Khan of Hoti. My …
by Farah Ghuznavi I’m not crazy, you know, even if they’ve sent me to you for an assessment! My husband wants me committed to a Rest-and-Reprogramming facility “for self-protection”. For his own protection, Jai means… The consequences of marrying a much younger man chrystallised with my daughter’s arrival; Jai didn’t want to be a grown-up, …
‘So what exactly did you decide?’ It was two years later that Sato-san put the question to me. The two of us had been hiding for two whole bloody years, terrified every single moment while moving about in the marshes along the river, where I caught small, skimpy meals to support us. We couldn’t turn …
He was glad he had a Thai-Indian girlfriend. On military leaves he didn’t have to go back to the States anymore where the war followed him everywhere. Daily, you could see something about Iraq. It was all around. Americans protesting on the streets, politicians debating on the television, columnists writing in newspapers, the president giving …
Three Poems By Ruth V. Mostrales 1. Pentatonic One. “The music box will go,” said Mother, impatient. She was speaking to the child in me who will never part with it. Two. I closed my eyes and thought of the days when promises were spoken in melodious haste, but there’s no time to bask in …