Punarmilāma
Flash Fiction by Rachel Buttigieg: ‘Memories don’t simply fade after grass burns away; shadows remain like the beautiful hibiscus from childhood memories shared in the gardens of destiny, where our mothers were to be friends.’
Short story by Debi Mukherjee: “Unlike the little girls I see outside temples, draped in their pano bhaju’s stringing garlands of Marigolds, I dare not play with the flowers in our garden. Papa cautions me against the rows of Mogras, Shoe-flowers, Frangipanis and a multitude of others. He says that I must not be lured by a flower’s fragrance.”
Poetry by Priyanka Aravind P.: ‘I too had a mother, / Who fed me with knowledge so ancient, / And called me her brightest star, // until I misspelt a note from the sacred chants.’
Flash Fiction by Rachel Buttigieg: ‘Memories don’t simply fade after grass burns away; shadows remain like the beautiful hibiscus from childhood memories shared in the gardens of destiny, where our mothers were to be friends.’
Propaganda films force upon us the grand question, writes Sanjay Basak: Are we loudly applauding the breathtaking production on screen, or are we quietly absorbing the idea that someone, somewhere, deserves to be feared, hated, or erased?