the lost cycle.

A bike, once used, now gone. That’s all it is to all of them- the paanwalla who says it took a stroll, the man who claims I made the arrangements, the others who blame my own stupidity. They’ve gotten it all wrong. Every single of them. She is no ordinary bicycle, not one of those […]

scarred.

“There’s nothing left to write about.” The words spill out of his mouth, knocking over his morning cup of coffee. He grabs a napkin and attempts to blot it off before anyone can notice.  “I mean…they all want the same boy meets girl story. How many more times can I do it again?” He trails […]

a sculptor’s manual to womanhood.

Girls are made from clay- they dry up, they crack, and they finally break into a million little pieces. It is better to begin shaping the clay early on to avoid any damage. When the dough is still soft, it is pliable enough to take on any form. At a young age, a girl can […]

moringa+mandarin

There are days I forget you exist, but then at night, you come visit me. In your velvet purple nightgown, you inch towards me so your lips are against my cheek. You smell of moringa flowers drenched in white wine, and it is only when I inhale you, I know it is you. You lie […]

flame.

It is the city you love, not I. The city that lives separate from darkness with its millions of sparkling lights. The city that you made me tour with you. Go straight down, on the main road, and you catch the industrial neon signs. Hook a sharp left into the colony, and you radiate with […]

black sunshine.

Beep, beep, beep. Pause, silence, restart. Louder this time. A voice comes on. It is neither male nor female. “Attention all incoming students. This is a fire drill designed to orient all first years with the health and safety procedures at the university. Please proceed downstairs in an orderly fashion and further instructions shall be […]

damaged goods.

On the inside We’re both damaged goods With me spilling blood from every single crevice And you releasing smoke from the open holes But we try to cover our wounds Pretend that we don’t exist on the same plane It doesn’t work You see my scars And I see your bruises But we still live […]

homeward bound.

Twenty years ago, Krishna Anand began living a double life. It was the same day he left everything he ever knew in Jaipur, the pink capital of India, and moved to Rumson, New Jersey. Despite leaving home, home could never leave him. He may have trudged his way to a green card, an American drawl, […]

15 minutes.

In 15 minutes, anything can happen. It takes 15 minutes to play a halftime in basketball. It takes 15 minutes to turn dry pasta into a meal. It takes 15 minutes to tell someone they are loved. You could be alive one minute, and then dead after 15 minutes. Everything happens so fast. There’s no […]