The Postcard
Personal Essay by Karan Madhok: ‘My mother handed me the postcard… I couldn’t believe my eyes…Tendulkar had written to me, addressed me by my first name, acknowledged my whole existence with a single thick piece of rectangular paper.’
What’s in a name? India has a long history of rebranding cities, streets, and buildings to reflect the political influence of the time. Instead of this empty tokenism, Vipin Labroo argues for the country to shift priorities towards its more pressing concerns.
Photo series by Vijay Kowshik V P: Parallel Indias is about proximity without connection, a study of coexistence without recognition. These are images of adjacency, lives, symbols, and bodies, all occupying the same space, often within the same frame, without ever meeting.
Personal Essay by Karan Madhok: ‘My mother handed me the postcard… I couldn’t believe my eyes…Tendulkar had written to me, addressed me by my first name, acknowledged my whole existence with a single thick piece of rectangular paper.’
Short story by Karan Madhok: “Now, Lady, Miss: Please take the flowers and lean into your husband, like this, as if you are falling into him. Just a little. That’s why in English they say, ‘falling’ in love, no? Bas, gir jao unpar!”