Arrested Eyesight: Three poems by Vasundhara Parashar
Poetry by Vasundhara Parashar: ‘I used to know my conscience, I used to see the world, / But now I read, Byron, Browning, and Burns, / Only to find myself lying on kitchen floors.’
‘To exist fully as an artist and human, one must be seen, heard, read, and acknowledged’: Farah Ahamed explores Satyajit Ray’s Charulata through the lens of Simone de Beauvoir.
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.’
Poetry by Vasundhara Parashar: ‘I used to know my conscience, I used to see the world, / But now I read, Byron, Browning, and Burns, / Only to find myself lying on kitchen floors.’
Poems by Aardhra Chandran: ‘Concrete trucks rumble past his fence, shaking the loose teeth / in his jaw, spitting black diesel smoke onto his holy basil plant. // He measures his life not in years, but in missing trees—/The neem chopped for wood, the mango that died of thirst.’