Poetry by Saoirse: ‘let us build a night on the marble edifice / of silence. Spread freshly laundered sheets / over the freckled sky and light / the twin candles of our bodies.’
Poetry by John Copley Alter: ‘In the proximity / of other gods—other sutras— / we muttered our creed—you // pecking / away at your manual typewriter— / carbon copies of personal letters / home—to the diaspora—we // noodling on the keyboard of happiness’
Creative Nonfiction by Shobhita Rewal: ‘Rotund Japanese purple enlarged. A plushie abandoned. Soot-stained lips float past. Saliva upon the metal in the skin. Chivalry ain’t dead yet, innit? Plebians need the masala but give this to me anyway.’
Seated among old paintings, clocks, clothing, trinkets, and valuables, 76-year-old Hamiz Rizwi maintains a kaleidoscopic antique shop in Lucknow, revealing new stories with every glance. By Ishita Yadav