Poetry by Prashant Pundir: ‘You are who I love, handmaking woolens, handmaking hope, handmaking this life, you who, with your tiny legs, walk to all the medicine stores and dog shelters and government buildings, saying: I REFUSE TO SPEAK A LANGUAGE PIROUETTED IN HATE AND ANGER’

Editorial: With the intention of promoting the arts borne and inspired from Landour, Mussoorie, and the Garhwal region, The Chakkar and the Mussoorie Heritage Centre [MHC] are launching the Landour Literature & Arts Festival. The first edition of LLAF will shine a light upon history, literature, art, music, poetry, film, and more. By Karan Madhok

The team behind the documentary My Otter Diary (2025) speak about filming the enigmatic species, conflict between fisherman and wildlife, and their hopes for otter conservation. By Sravasti Datta

Poetry by Goirick Brahmachari: ‘Love is like the wild lilacs, white / Apple trees over green meadows, / Riverstones I have walked over / For years— splattered, irate, broken.’

Short story by Madhurjya Goswami: ‘You ask yourself a question: How does a fallen airplane look? Does it look like a pigeon squashed to the ground, its neck askew? And the hot, unplastered room answers: well, you’ve got to see it yourself.’

Meena Kandasamy’s collection Tomorrow Someone Will Arrest You is poetry as resistance literature, where aesthetic beauty and political activism merge to challenge a nation’s conscience. By Amritesh Mukherjee

Photo Story by Quamar Equbal and Sumit Singh: Rohtang is a vibrant artery of travel, adventure, and survival, pulsing with stories of resilient people who call this rugged pass their lifeline. But unchecked tourism, pollution, and rising environmental concerns have left it under siege.

Neha Dixit, the author of The Many Lives of Syeda X, speaks about the story of an ‘invisible’ India through the tale of one working-class woman, her approaches to journalism, and the “collective failure” of Indian society. By Saurabh Sharma

Poetry by Vinita Agrawal: ‘The valley hums every summer— / the murmur of a year’s worth of wounds. // It seems nature remembers / what we’ve have tried to bury.’

Poetry by Devika Mathur: ‘Curtains fall from dawn to dusk. / A river to see her face. / Shining clouds bring flowers to her. / An admirer of nightingales and lanterns.’ 

Personal Essay by Namrata: ‘Language is meant to bring us closer. To help us say: I see you. I want to understand you. I care enough to learn your words. And when we turn language into a line in the sand and use it to exclude, to shame, to assert dominance, we forget its most sacred purpose: to connect.’

‘However, the happiness was short lived. Soon there was a knock on the door and all hope of love was lost for them. Ayush’s family had informed the police that their son had gone missing for a few hours, and they suspected he had been kidnapped by militants.’ By Arshi Javaid