Ubaid Bukhari I O Ithaca, O Kashmir “In Shalimar I sit and fill goblets of wine And scan the Earth, waiting for him” – Habba Khatoon From the shores of the Delhi Sultanate Come sailing against Poseidon’s curse, For the Himalaya – a basalt sea in stasis rolls wave after … Read more →
The Colors Of Hope
Hope, I have often suspected, is a rather poor student of art. It refuses to settle upon a single colour. Ask ten people what shade hope wears, and you will receive ten different answers—gold like the first rays of dawn, emerald like monsoon leaves, blue like an untroubled sky, or … Read more →
Night Dies
Farkhanda Night dies. I wish to write something for this beautiful night Scary and serene… Night… Wrapping the untold stories of people, while dying inside for the warmth of sunshine… How ironic! Never can anyone ever wish for their own death, but night dies when the sun rises. From this … Read more →
Poems & Puchkas
These verses move between solitude and society, memory and becoming; tracing the emotional landscapes of contemporary life by reflecting art, war, identity, language, and longing. These poems invite readers into a journey of self-discovery and vulnerability, and show what it means to search for life amidst uncertainty and change. And … Read more →
Jhelum
A Short Story by Ghulam Mohammad Khan The squeezed heart, the weary body. The weight of unvoiced tales, millennia of silence. All of it flows into the invincible Jhelum. It is a silent witness. A keeper of our pain. Its currents try to comfort. In its rage, it claws at … Read more →
Interview with Leena A. Khan
Stories have expanded my capacity for empathy, deepened my understanding of history, and softened my sense of humanity. Reading changes people, and by extension, it changes the world. I wrote Flames of the Cherry Tree because I wanted to wield this power for Kashmir.
A Short Note of Chillai Kalaan
S Ahmed An indignant little child confronted Chillai Kalaan, the fierce forty-day winter of Kashmir: “Why don’t you snow now the way you did in the past? Where are those long, thick icicles that used to hang from the thatched roofs of houses and cowsheds? My father says that in … Read more →