“…Through her veins, they breed and bleed / Maiden of the sun, brightest yellow / Spirit so sublime, heart so mellow…” A poem about the sun.
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All articles filed in literature
Delhi Isn’t Delhi Anymore
“This was my city, where I spent my childhood. I called it home because that is what home meant.” Read about the city of Delhi becoming home, and a listicle of childhood memories revived.
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Words Come With Flowers
A poem of flowers and the seas, describing the oneness of nature and us, and a strange revival of the past, all leading to nought.
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Revival
Can you revive something through memory? Is it restoration if it’s just emotions? Read this to know.
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A Wishlist Item for The New Year- The Roaring ’20s!
The roaring ’20s… full of exuberance and excellence. Everything was over the top, every emotion was over-felt, and every occasion was over-celebrated. It was filled with the oddest but sweetest summers, similar to an over-ripened peach fruit left outside for a while…
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Almost
This is a poem to celebrates your almost. Its a reminder that the journey is more important than making it to the destination before anyone else.
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The Death of an Adult
‘Adulthood’ is the most difficult word in any teenagers dictionary. This piece looks at how normal this feeling of apprehension is. For you and legend like Van Vogh alike.
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Jabberwocky
A poem about the Jabberwocky, a metaphor for ‘fear’ from ‘Alice in Wonderland’, and the fearlessness it brings with being slain.
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A Taste of Home
…I could sense the nostalgia she felt when she would talk about home, although I never quite realised the extent of it. She loved cooking, which was partly the reason why I used to visit their place so frequently.
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The Fallacy of A Home
By Vasundhara Singh The undercurrents of a mercurial afternoon were still vibrating under my skin as I sat alongside my father in the back seat of a Toyota car after my last board exam. Almost 5 years have gone by since the tempestuous day but I am often reminded of the friends I left behind…
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House of Horrors
A house, she had heard from others and read in storybooks, was supposed to be a safe haven. A place where someone was protected from all the misdemeanors and brokenness of this gruesome world. But the irony was, all of that existed in her house.
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Home?
“Home,” she said once again. It didn’t sound like home from her mouth. It sounded like she was taking the name of a place that should’ve never existed.
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