Valentine-Day Blues!
Humourist Soumya shares a fictionalised story of his daughter, Medha, and her Valentine’s Day blues. Here’s a special feature, on the eve of the V-Day, in the weekly column,...
Lawless Bounty Killers of Yogi: 1,241 Encounters in 11 Months and Counting
Yogi’s cops are making a killing! They shoot before they ask. They don’t take prisoners. Encounters, they are ‘final’. No room for redressal. Before or after. They are a...
People Lose Faith as Moral Values in Politics Decline Sharply
Moral values in politics have been on the decline for at least last three decades, but the recent decay has been shocking. What has been most dangerous is the...
The Culprit
A powerful protest poem by Bushra. Here we see the poet as a Social Journalist, in Different Truths. My poem, The Culprit, was written when I was in the...
Tolling Time
An intense poem by Sumita about her father, in Different Truths. He was the most handsome Once upon a time. Broad shoulders, carved biceps; A high diving gymnast Twirling...
Our Opinion about Kashmir Changed!
We are often conditioned by our biases and prejudices. This is what Soumya felt during a visit to Kashmir. A different shade of writing from our humourist, in the...
Despite the Devastations Wrecked by Harvey, People Reached Out to Help
During difficult times Houston showed its true spirit, the kind of humanity we often think has disappeared. This is when I saw neighbours helping neighbours, strangers helping strangers. Black,...
Reality and Intervention of Witch Hunting: A Crime against Human Dignity
The easiest way to grab a woman’s property in rural hinterland is to brand her a witch. Unbelievable but horrifically true in 21st century India, women in the interiors of states are beaten, paraded naked, disgraced, ostracised and then robbed of...
The Partition
The partition of India is a deep gash in our collective consciousness. Millions of people from West Punjab and East Bengal were rendered homeless. There were hunger, rape, loss of human...
Shuffling Memories
In this poignant poem, Mamta delves into her ‘sepia memories’. As dusk settles Memories begin to scrape my mind Like negatives of snapshots Sometimes sharp Sometimes fuzzy and undefined...