a boy who lost an eye
Personal Essay by multidisciplinary artist Ravi Modi: ‘Truth, I came to realise, is fluid, shapeshifting, dusty, incomplete. It never arrives whole. It gathers slowly, the way vision does, through fragments and adjustments. Much like my own sight, truth is always in the process of becoming.’
Short story by Vishnu Bagdawala: ‘Sometimes, I would lie in bed waiting for the tears to come. Sometimes, I would wonder how it was strange that we needed to sleep in order to be awake for the rest of our lives. Until the day when, like my grandfather, we fall into an eternal sleep.’