My parents don’t sleep in the same bed. To a six year old girl, That never mattered. But to a seven year old girl, it does. She knows...

/Assume all trigger Warnings before you start reading this piece of writing/ i) suddenly the sad in my sadness seems so thirsty as if it...

Baba had stopped talking to me when I was in class six. I wanted to learn Kathak. He wanted me to study law.⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ There are only a few...

my grandmother tells me in their times⁣⁣ when ‘Mahabharata’ was telecasted every Sunday morning⁣⁣ neighbours crowded in our house from...

my mother is decreasing she tiptoes barefoot about the house to not make a murmur of her existence my mother is contracting she nibbles...

When I say I want Oxford dictionary to replace the word childhood with falsehood I’m 90% joking but also 10% dead-serious. It’s 2009, Ma...

My relationship with my father is not what you’d call strained. It’s probably a Kesari chai mishap that soiled a small portion of our...

Never fall in love with a writer because their love comes with a messy disclaimer, their love is only theirs, never yours, (even after...

somewhere, a little girl appearing for her math exam smashes our faces, and believes she will score the highest; a man temporarily glues...

you implant subtle disasters in the vacant pores of my skin every time your brown-sugar hands touch my desert-sand body. the first time...

(Assume All Trigger Warnings) Summer afternoons have always been too salty, A kind that squeezes up your throat in a way, that it even...

all the keepnotes that couldn’t turn into poems // i. i miss sleeping next to the sienna-eyed boy i love. look at me – a poetic monster –...

My amma did not raise me to be a poet, nor a feminist She asks, why are you a feminist? Amma, when you’re raised in a household run by...

suicides travel accompanied by history, anthropology economics, politics, literature of all sorts and obviously, the cinema! and what...

Art is a manifestation of grief, It is a rising sun, A clear sky after days of downpour It is a brooding mother, Photographs of times...

“this was the legacy of the great Indian kitchen, here, only stomachs were filled in the attempt to fill hearts“ I could smell the spices...

How much hope is enough to walk out of grief unscathed? How long can you sit by yourself before the air of familiarity wears off? If...

God and I, we haven’t spoken in a while, I have shut my doors on the inside. God and I, we have unresolved issues. God and I, go to...

i) our love is not for this generation or any generation for that matter it simply doesn’t agree with the laws of the land so, every time...

NaPoWriMo 2021 Sonography of emptiness by Srishti Saharia the second paediatrician you remember them taking you to was because you...