Dr. Sambhu R is a bilingual poet from Kerala. He is employed as Assistant Professor of English at N.S.S. College, Pandalam. Vavval Manushyanum Komaliyum published by Pappathi Pusthakangal in 2019 was his first book of poems in Malayalam. His poems in English have appeared in Wild Court, Bombay Literary Journal, Muse India, Borderless Journal, Setu, Shot Glass Journal, among others.
Short story by Khadija Rehman: “Some flowers bloom even when they shouldn’t. This one grows in cracks, drains, broken walls. Shameless little thing. You can forget about it, and it’ll still be there tomorrow.”
At the Teach for Nature Fellowship, classrooms turn into ecosystems, where children learn about nature—as much as they learn from it. By Sravasti Datta
Personal Essay by Jahnavi Gogoi: ‘It was obvious that the word “Militant” was not etched on anyone’s face. My mother kept saying it, late into the night, as if to convince herself that Lohit now had blood on his hands.’
Poetry by Siddh Dutta: ‘Her hours went into my becoming, / cruel it feels now / to realize how freedom can vanish without chains. / How may one choose a cage / and call it duty?’
From ancient Hindu traditions of retributive violence as well as history of aid and inspiration from abroad, Abhimanyu Kumar explores the complicated associations of our national song with India’s revolutionary movement.
Personal Essay by Mansi Dhankar: ‘Since 2020, Indian students have faced a pandemic, online classes that turned homes into cages, rising coaching culture, paper leaks, collapsing mental health, inflation, unemployment, and a future that grows more expensive each time the rupee weakens against the dollar.’
Continuing a five-decade-long singing career, Usha Uthup speaks about staying relevant with changing times, meme culture, radical self-love, and covering Miley Cyrus. By Deepansh Duggal
Rahul Bhattacharya speaks about the musicality behind Railsong, the taxonomical motifs at the heart of his novel, cricket journalism, and finding inspiration in Toni Morrison. By Saurabh Sharma
Poetry by Kartikay Agarwal: ‘Will the last book of the last people to write books / (when all else is said) at the end just say ‘write to me’? // The wheel spins the pot to life, yet leaves no trace, / You be potter, mould life into my clay—write to me.’
Short story by Ayaan Halder: ‘I could feed my children chicken and rice for a week, without having to shout at them for not wanting the fried bhendi they’ve been eating for the last three days. I could cover half a month’s rent with that money, for god’s sake! And you spend it on a wretched T-shirt that doesn’t even bear the colour of the sky?’