Five Poems by Abu Siddik A Mother’s Monologue Yesterday, I gave birth to a girl, Faces around me were blackened, For they pinned hope on a son During my swelling days, Parents, in-laws, close friends, Even my maids were sure of a son’s coming Neighbours looked at my bulging belly. And they were happy for I was going to be A proud mother within a week Nothing that sort followed, A girl was born, And all fell silent The room was the same But it has lost its warmth, Th

what is it about mothers and the sad singularity of things they do for themselves? but i saw her laugh for the longest time and wipe

Song of sapphic orange juice by Aadrit Banerjee citrus blues on soft carpels, a tapestry of fibres weaved on them, lemon smell bringing memories of a hundred winter tales of grandmothers sewing, and shelling oranges, and afternoons of tangy flavored- kisses, peeled skin scattered over green grass, so red inside, winter sunlight playing on nude bodies tangled over graveyards, and half-eaten oranges over Jamali-Kamali's tomb, shaped like smiles of female hysteria, hidden under