It’s Nanjangud Annu visits raves about as she usually does about old temples the older the monument the more the raving so long as they are well preserved like the famed pickles. I too visited this...
My knowledge of numbers diminished on arrival in England, then the United States. At home in Ceylon I used to bathe in lakhs and crores. No number seemed too grand except for the infinite. But in the West I...
The Ring Road was certainly spooky at night, illuminated by yellow neon lights, the cold, sandy winds blowing in from the Yamuna against the darkened Red Fort, howling in the night.
Under merciless sun at a crowded corner where city streets crisscross four banjara boys beg and brawl. Alien tongue, lively limbs, almost naked, gilded with soot and dust, eyesore to the passers-by, like...
Cartoonist Ali Dorani fled Iran at the age of 21 before being trapped in Australia’s controversial Manus Island detention camp for four years. Things changed after his artwork was posted online. This is...
Friend When I saw us down a street of shadows hand in hand I made my own story With you I can make stories by dozens Of lost loves violets and pomegranates and unsung poems With you I can float my paperboat of...
Fiction writing in Telugu started in the later part of 19th century with Rajasekhara Charitamu by Kandukuri Veeresalingam, a well-known social reformer of the day. Short-story writing gathered momentum in the...
Hide and seek I don’t hate the game though, of course, I don’t. I remember exploring new places where no one could find me, Running out of new places to hide. I recollect this weird fear in me of...
Once a boy I loved for the first time, Too old for a first time, With all the blue of my heart, The boy was art, Beautifully melancholic, Both knew this love was chronic I called his aura golden, Birthing a bond that...
Before I picked up an old bowl (Long time back kids had their Play and eat sessions with this Colorful melamine bowl) To fill water and place it On the balcony sill, A small bird dropped dead From the searing summer...
“WHEN THE RIVER SLEEPS” is a novel by Easterine Kire. A poet and a novelist from Nagaland Easterine Kire brings us the taste of Nagaland through this novel which is a great example of fiction from India in the Magic...
Years ago I happened to be in Visakhpatanam with my father. We had attended a family wedding and were visiting cousins in the city. When Appagaru heard that the Book Fair was on in the city we decided to check it out...
My friend, in a small but significant way, had lost her childhood with that one lapse that ruptured her life. It was ironical. To preserve her freedom as a child, she had to become an adult. And once she had lost that...
The roads were empty, the fences of houses quiet with no rhythmic turning of the latch. An occasional cuckoo threw a chord into rustling leaves, like a painter a thick dab of colour on his canvas, Recklessly. My...
Sridhar M
Indran Amirthanayagam
Deepra Dandekar
Abu Siddik
Nabanita Sengupta
Murali Cartoonist
Naina Dey
Syamala Kallury
Medha Sreeya
Shriya Prasad
Indraganti Prasad
జ్యోతి, పి.
Nishi Pulugurtha
కిరణ్మయి ఇంద్రగంటి