The Editorial, Issue 3
So here we are again. On our third issue which also happens to have released on the new year’s eve. So let me give a brief overview of what we have for you this time. This issue contains ten poems
The Editorial, Issue 3
So here we are again. On our third issue which also happens to have released on the new year’s eve. So let me give a brief overview of what we have for you this time. This issue contains ten poems
Feature: Ethereal Colours
Ethereal Colours, an enterprise aimed at providing stock photographs and professional photography services, is co-founded by Ayush Dinker and Abhishek Saha. It has its origin in a deep-seated passion to photograph and write about the world around us. It is
Feature: Ethereal Colours
Ethereal Colours, an enterprise aimed at providing stock photographs and professional photography services, is co-founded by Ayush Dinker and Abhishek Saha. It has its origin in a deep-seated passion to photograph and write about the world around us. It is
Parama Sahoo: Two Poems
Infinity Piece up the broken clock, And breathe it back to life tonight. Wind it up, watch it go. And see it run, run far ahead, Far beyond where you’d ever imagined. It beckons me to a place tonight, Of
Parama Sahoo: Two Poems
Infinity Piece up the broken clock, And breathe it back to life tonight. Wind it up, watch it go. And see it run, run far ahead, Far beyond where you’d ever imagined. It beckons me to a place tonight, Of
Priyanka Dey: At the Gates of Borgha
The nonchalant prophecies Often return an amused smile Away from the chromic door I stand,at the gate of Borgha. The palace set up,like a gem Decorated into a clumsy whim The grills are cold, ember black They sing to me,
Priyanka Dey: At the Gates of Borgha
The nonchalant prophecies Often return an amused smile Away from the chromic door I stand,at the gate of Borgha. The palace set up,like a gem Decorated into a clumsy whim The grills are cold, ember black They sing to me,
Amartya Ghosh: Aurora’s Lament
my flame feels cold, and my spark lies wet, to hear you ask for death, to set you free you see me burn and you see me leave but do you ever see, the tears I cry? the grains have
Amartya Ghosh: Aurora’s Lament
my flame feels cold, and my spark lies wet, to hear you ask for death, to set you free you see me burn and you see me leave but do you ever see, the tears I cry? the grains have
Becky Kilsby: Two Poems
*Sonia, 14 Between a rock and a heartless place they will give me a terrible death. Crushed between eon-cast strata – promised at ten to a Taleban impaled on the hook of my brothers’ honour gagged by gallstone judiciary. A
Becky Kilsby: Two Poems
*Sonia, 14 Between a rock and a heartless place they will give me a terrible death. Crushed between eon-cast strata – promised at ten to a Taleban impaled on the hook of my brothers’ honour gagged by gallstone judiciary. A
Kriti Sharma: Two Poems
The night is your friend There is nothing to be afraid. The night is your friend My friend Our friend When the curtains of death close upon you Think of the beige moon Of heaven’s high bowers that await Your
Kriti Sharma: Two Poems
The night is your friend There is nothing to be afraid. The night is your friend My friend Our friend When the curtains of death close upon you Think of the beige moon Of heaven’s high bowers that await Your
Reena Prasad: Two Poems
Promise “Demoniac frenzy, moping melancholy, / And moon-struck madness.” -Milton The day is coming soon. It is kicking off heavy boots loosening the jugular knots uprooting itself from the sodden cement and roaring like a jaguar smelling blood. A trembling
Reena Prasad: Two Poems
Promise “Demoniac frenzy, moping melancholy, / And moon-struck madness.” -Milton The day is coming soon. It is kicking off heavy boots loosening the jugular knots uprooting itself from the sodden cement and roaring like a jaguar smelling blood. A trembling
