No Detergent Can Undo
Sreyashi Goswami Books: Lover forever, makes strong friends, permanent enemies. Flower: Softness or is it hallucination. Brotherhood: Feeling towards a brother that needs to be chiseled for...
Read More →Sreyashi Goswami Books: Lover forever, makes strong friends, permanent enemies. Flower: Softness or is it hallucination. Brotherhood: Feeling towards a brother that needs to be chiseled for...
Read More →[HUG interviews Santanu Das in the wake of his talk on D. H. Lawrence’s poetry in Delhi University on February 9, 2012] HUG: If I may take your reflections on Lawrence this week...
Read More →Chandril Bhattacharya Is this Bashonti Sanyal who imprints red-lac dye and rubs lotus-petals on her palms. Is this Bashonti Mukherjee who lights candles every morning on the window sill so that her lover...
Read More →Robert Hayden Night, Death, Mississippi 1 A quavering cry. Screech-owl? Or one of them? The old man in his reek and gauntness laughs -- One of them, I bet --...
Read More →David Wagoner Muse Cackling, smelling of camphor, crumbs of pink icing Clinging to her lips, her lipstick smeared Halfway around her neck, her cracked teeth bristling With bloody splinters, she leans over...
Read More →Jack Mapanje The Seashells of Bridlington North Beach (for Mercy Angela) She hated anything caged, fish particularly, Fish caged in glass boxes, ponds, whatever; ‘Reminds me of prisons and slavery,’ she said;...
Read More →Pranabendu Dasgupta Charred Wood piece Whose stench do you carry along, charred wood piece? Is it my body of that prior birth that gutted my Hindu motherland? Am I not still alive in...
Read More →Avishek Parui Dialogues “Say something” you throat across our table where three plates of grapes and the leftovers furl a forest between us in which something had been lost or maybe cleverly...
Read More →Akhil Katyal Tim calls from Brighton Tim calls from Brighton, panting, I ask him what's wrong with you, he says he wants a bit of friendly advice but mainly needs my cue for...
Read More →Dilip Simeon This is my Rifle and that is my Gun, This is for shooting and that is for fun. This is my Discourse, and that is my Text, Discourse for this life,...
Read More →Amlan Dasgupta In 1966 or 1967 (the year is variously reported) the poet Paul Celan journeyed to a place called Todtnauberg , in the Black Mountains in Germany. He was visiting the mountain...
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