you and me, as flesh
Poem by Maansi Sharma: ‘the rabbit on my foot, startled like the river, / coursing through the bed, giggling at our feet. / there is soup and bread and tea and honey for the quiet ache. / we don’t need to eat god for breakfast.’
In the solo play Adhura, Vivek Vijayakumaran explores how, even as we idolise historical and mythological figures, life tests the ideals they embody. Do these tests still liberate us, or do they become burdens that make it harder to make choices? By Sravasti Datta
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.’
Poem by Maansi Sharma: ‘the rabbit on my foot, startled like the river, / coursing through the bed, giggling at our feet. / there is soup and bread and tea and honey for the quiet ache. / we don’t need to eat god for breakfast.’
Shaped by Kerala’s mythology and folk art, Anupama Alias Anil weaves textures that introspect the gendered self . By Anna Lynn