Articles by: Kashiana Singh

his and his

his and his

A journey is forgotten once it is made, these days the journey goes on, continuously on like seasonless serials on internet tv journeys his and his theirs, same these men who come to us in photographs as moments of their worlds, captured in reel, more than one cared to know, now it sends a chill down our spines, now real[Read More…]

by December 6, 2020 Arts/Literature
Erasure

Erasure

The untouchable body is touched until it can be touched no more, touched so often and in so many ways, just to purge you of fears She is powerful for she is woman, you make of her an anthem, her breasts are in mourning, her tortured cries haunt your ripped manhood’s Her sisters are bodies draped over mango trees, gargoyles[Read More…]

by October 19, 2020 Arts/Literature
Clean up after you give birth – and don’t forget your mask

Clean up after you give birth – and don’t forget your mask

One They named him Corona, it is not uncommon for babies to be named after special events, or characters in history. But that is not the point. Two One assumes giving birth is essential to the continuity of life, but birthing On footpaths? At roadsides? Under flyovers? How else does one define apocalypse? Three These women, many, too many in indignity.[Read More…]

by May 26, 2020 Arts/Literature
They played Ashtapada

They played Ashtapada

a muslim with his eyes blinded was recognized by the direction his face lay turned towards the qibla1 bloodstains whispering war on his cheeks like line breaks of a romantic ballad poem his last prayer very carefully spoken as he was heaving, breathing being dragged from the arms of his kohl-eyed lover, before they made her a corpse, her unarmed[Read More…]

by March 8, 2020 Arts/Literature