A poem by MANASVINI MONI. Stagnant Like the crimson blood on the streets In fragments Torn apart at the seams The flag waves no more Limp and listless Like the men in the trees 6 feet over the ground where they kneel Suffocating; their skin turning green The green waves for faith, but faith in what? In the saffron nationality/brutality/reality? In blinding white purity? Remember, The twenty-four spokes? In the centre, Cutting through the hoax? The wheel turns no more Live in bliss and ignore Unlock the doors Change with the age Peace or rage Melt the cage Like the seas and the skies Bleed blue for our sakes   Featured image courtesy of Marjan Blan, source: unsplash.com 

Ashoka Chakra

A prose piece by SELIN BENGI  Two strangers walking together amongst hundreds of thousands of people in a foreign city. Even surrounded by a sea of strangers, the two were still barely familiar to one another. After all, it had only been two weeks since they’d started seeing each other. It was just a few days ago that he had asked Margaret if he could join her on the holiday she had planned for herself. Caught completely off guard, Margaret struggled to respond to his question. She had never been on holiday with someone she was seeing before. In fact, her relationship with him, if you could even call it that, was the most serious she had ever experienced. Her long list of criteria for in a romantic partner and her nagging practical brain had kept her from seeing anyone for more than two or three dates. Yet here she…Continue Reading

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