By Preeti Kathuria
An artwork and musing that visually expresses the concept of ‘breaking ground’ by using colours.
Read MoreWhere Currents Meet
By Preeti Kathuria
An artwork and musing that visually expresses the concept of ‘breaking ground’ by using colours.
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A musing about different colors, and each of the meanings attached to them; and the quest for going beyond the shades, and into a spectrum.
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“Yellow, always so bright and luminous, capturing my attention to show me that insanity is always the path to courage…”
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About unfiltered nights, where gold melts into blue.
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He has been sculpted like a painter and painted like a sculptor. All the poetry is for him, for the dead Maple leaf, the thousand stanzas that a poet creates is just for him, the innumerable colors of life, of celebration, of sacrifice, that a painter’s brush creates, is for him. It is for the withered, surrendered, dead Maple leaf.
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By: Krutika Puranik We are all pieces of what’s left of our parents. Your mother’s eyes, father’s ears, an aunt’s height. I often sit amidst my family and wonder if they see themselves in me. The way I slip a strand of hair discreetly behind my ear, the way my eyes turn into the colour…
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“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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Gay pride was not born of a need to celebrate being gay, but the right to exist without persecution.
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“All forty of you be alert. Maybe it is the last time I will be commanding you. You are required to guard the border…”
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“That’s just life, being unexpectedly, unassumingly breathtaking…”
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I have always loved you in bits and pieces,
Never full, never all-at-once.
Moonlight. Not the moon. Not just yet. I walk on the street. There are buildings. And trees. I dread them in the night. I must’ve shuddered mentally.And I keep walking. And it keeps getting brighter. “Oh God,” I sigh. I don’t know if I want to see it just yet. I like the moonlight. I…
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