A terrorist lives Inside me

A terrorist lives inside of me. Every time I abuse someone silently. Every time I slam a door. Or preach ‘Why can’t you….’ Or shout, ‘How dare he!’ And hug my holier-than-thou self. Every time I curse in impatience. Point my finger in shrill, indignant protest or...

The Flower

The Flower Dida! I want to come with you! No, it’s a cold day – you go back to sleep now. I will be back soon. No! Please? Pleeease? Pleeeeeease Dida? As she runs about, gathering her little basket of flowers, her little copper pot for pouring the water on...

Heavy Threads by Hazel Hall

When the dawn unfolds like a bolt of ribbon Thrown through my window, I know that hours of light Are about to thrust themselves into me Like omnivorous needles into listless cloth, Threaded with the heavy colours of the sun. They seem altogether too eager, To...

The Patience of Ordinary Things

It is a kind of love, is it not? How the cup holds the tea, How the chair stands sturdy and foursquare, How the floor receives the bottoms of shoes Or toes. How soles of feet know Where they’re supposed to be. I’ve been thinking about the patience Of ordinary...

Green Mangoes

The afternoon sun beat down as Didi squinted up at the mango tree. “I got it,” Rinku said as she managed to pluck the fat green one. Shall I get that other one?” “No! Come on down now…they’ll wake up.” “Did you get the salt and chilly powder?” “Yes – in my pocket.”...