By Ramitha Ramesh
Grieving isn’t always for the dead. Sometimes you feel grief for the living. And sometimes, it’s the only way you know you loved.
Read MoreWhere Currents Meet
By Ramitha Ramesh
Grieving isn’t always for the dead. Sometimes you feel grief for the living. And sometimes, it’s the only way you know you loved.
Read MoreBy Tejas Kulkarni
What do you see in the sky when you look up? This poem captures the different things each of us views in the vast expanse of cotton candy white and beautiful shades of blue.
Read MoreBy Aastha Katyal Pant
A cloud can be a poet’s muse or a poet’s enemy. This piece is one of persistence despite the blues a cloud brings, and striving through it.
Read MoreBy Simran Ramsay
Each of us has a role to play. Sometimes on a stage, sometimes in a circus. Read about one such circus called life.
Read MoreBy Simran Ramsay
There’s many a piece on the pain of writer’s block. Here comes an astonishingly illustrative experience of it. And how to overcome it.
Read MoreBy Simran Ramsay
Some dreams go beyond sleep. Certain passion has fate written all over it. Read the road to this realization through a single day.
Read MoreBy Ekasmayi Naresh
This poem gazes at the poet herself as a mosaic: a combination of all the little passion-filled endeavours and affections that make her whole
Read MoreBy Krishna Advani
A list of the must-read books during the festive season to put you in the perfect winter mood. Each story livelier than the one before!
Read MoreWe find ourselves at the same place every year. We set ourselves up for daunting tasks, but this reminds us to be proud for trying.
Read MoreThis musing talks about how sometimes, our words and sentiments are not ours alone; they belong to the writers who have come before us.
Read MoreBy Vasundhara SinghImage source: Unsplash (portugueseactivity) Part I: The Painter Decadent skies overhead, an encompassing envelope, white fluff dancing about, the silent blue swaying towards an unknown shore. I spot a copy of Ariel by Sylvia Plath and a moment later, I am snatching away at the pages. I am not as reserved with it…
Read MoreBy Preeti Kathuria
“The unbroken continuance, ticking a rhythmic trance. Once housed in the cuckoo clock, flew off in a single rare instance…”
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