To Heal

Artwork by Pooja Sreenivasan This personal essay was first published Esthesia Magazine. https://esthesiamag.com/2020/09/03/to-heal/ TW: Grooming, Sexual Assault  Ammachi liked him but not enough, made him omelettes with round chillies sprinkled on them, but his sweat bothered her. He was huge, tall and wide, a dark face with pores at the edges, hair silky and round... Continue Reading →

Njajan Veedu

This essay was first published in The Whineyard. We sat in the shack-like place, our legs swinging above the ground. Afternoons were idle here, either staring at the naive blue sky, napping or chewing on the snacks that were meant to be eaten in the evening. Mini Aunty was here, her salwar bottom lifted up... Continue Reading →

Summer

This creative fiction was published in the august edition of Inkspire E-Magazine. I was 13 when I told Amma that I would never wake up at 6:00 just so that I could make breakfast for my husband who would conveniently wake up at 7.  Amma smiled and said, “Things will change!”.  You will eventually make... Continue Reading →

the pink bra

It was a hazy morning, Ammu did not see the squinting sunlight through the window grills as she usually does. She was down with a fever and so was allowed to sleep with amma the previous night, her amma argued that this temporary shift in rooms were strictly meant for the purpose- adult supervision. Ammu... Continue Reading →

Unsaid Goodbyes

To all the ones who left me, skipping the conventional hugs and goodbyes. In this gloomy Victorian weather, where the rain drizzles, the wind knots your hair up and the dampness helps your skin make love to the glistening sweat, I write.  I write to all of you, who blew me afar like a dandelion... Continue Reading →

Bodies and Spaces

Grasping on to my phone with my palm turned into a tight fist, pinky finger extra tight is how I learned to walk alone after I got a phone for myself, before that it was the school dhupatta’s edges I held onto, never letting go of the ends. Blasting unfamiliar music rings through my ears... Continue Reading →

the lone street

Rachappa garden is an aloof street in 8th cross lakshmi road. The street is a humble abode to numerous four pawed creatures, two geese and turkey. The fauna species reminded mankind of their existence in the street through their morning ritual of pooping fresh round shaped shit. Sometimes the poop is not so fresh-fresh. It... Continue Reading →

No more babies to drown and die.

Amma is a fierce woman, for a tiny person. But she hates swallowing pills, according to A half her problems arises because she refuses to finish the pill ka course. Iron tablets, vitamin tablets, the one you eat for back pain all lay uneaten in the old lion dates dabba inside the fridge. The dreaded... Continue Reading →

Terrace

The sun quietly sunk into the vacuum leaving its trail behind, in orange and red shades throughout the sky. The moon refuses to come, until the sky cleans up the sun’s mess, it waits stubbornly. Traffic has hit its peak , the cars and trucks honking from SRP can be heard till here. Girias turned... Continue Reading →

the smell

today he smells like wet mud. he barges into the house after getting drenched in the summer rain and is squeaking to hand him a towel. he manages to bring in the smell of  wet soil into the house, and Ronnie immediately turns away. she is not a big fan of this scent and he seems... Continue Reading →

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