(1) In the mirror the hangman looks so like my silence that I wish I was born as a million tongued word meaning freedom there are no flowers like that of moon (eclipsing over old mountains) no resurrection other than its absurd cycles but then the way some people longingly … Read more →
Kashmir, A Ghazal by Shabir Ahmed
Where to, shall we now row in Kashmir? No more does the Vyeth flow in Kashmir. See how we are smiling in sepia tones Ah! It is just an old photo in Kashmir. Lest it bring the memories of peace They no longer allow snow in Kashmir. Saffron does not … Read more →
Eid ul Fitr in Kashmir by Aaliya Mushtaq
The sacrificial Eid is yet months away Yet Ishmael is dangled on the cross The angels keep their censored silences and pour them into our hearts. It isn’t even Muharram But sisters wrap mourning over their torn cloaks, and wipe off sweat from the cold bullets settled in the brows … Read more →
A Bloody Night in Pampore by Muhammad Tahir
Don’t tell me Papa Kishtwari looked ferocious, And his eyes had all the fire of terror; That his hairs were dyed dark ginger And he walked with intimidating airs. Tell me about that January night in 1996, Which was the Night of Salvation, When his armed pack of savage men, … Read more →
A man I know by Shivapriya Ganapathy
A man I know (from film screenings and art fests in the city) came up to me and asked What I think of the #Me too movement. What can anyone think of it, really? Later, someone else asked about the Aziz Ansari incident. All I can tell you is I … Read more →
Pashmina, Tombstones have names & Witness by Sayen Aich
There have been evenings When my grandmother would weave stories, from the pashmina threads of memory. That still kept her going. With such delicate threads one had to be careful. A little lie here, a little too much effort And a castle of stories would crumble down. She would … Read more →
The Calendar of Death by Zeeshan Ali
1 With the onset of Spring, Death comes seeking: in twos and threes in gold-plated pyramids in ogives, traced by thirsty hands (wounded by salt) by instinct. It slithers away with the smell of impunity. 2 In the midst of Summer, death comes seeking, again: in hundreds and thousands of … Read more →
To a half disappearance & If wishes were horses by Zabirah Fazili
Back home we laughed merry laughs, tears streaming down our eyes, a defiant smile on the face offsets familiar aches felt by us. we lost him in our strength and frailty yet we hugged and held each other back home to shelve our shrieks we smiled at our helplessness. we … Read more →
Occupation by Tasim Zahid
Misery filled our lungs long before you, But then you came guns blazing and tear gas popping Shooting us, shouting, we come in peace, we come in love Fuck you and fuck your guns, I will be ready to die before you can even count to ten But how will … Read more →
The Exodus of a City by Ifsha Zehra and Samia Mehraj
Please note that the words in italics belong to Samia Mehraj & and the non-italicised ones to Ifsha Zehra It is 1990, I am not born. Someone peeks through the window of my mother’s house. In the vicinity, suitcases are being quietly packed with the essentials of olden days. Secrets of … Read more →
‘When Kashmir wept, I wrote a poem’ by Premjish
To the Kashmir I’ve never visited, not even in my dreams. I know you will understand, my fear for the uniforms, the masculine parades, the gun holding men who look like Indian gods with elongated genitals, who look like my father with their moustaches, you know I despise my father, … Read more →
‘The City’s Lament for a Messenger’ by Asad Alvi
We cry out, in the darkness, for asylum: no one responds – the wind does not carry his name. The holy city’s arms are lacerated – she does not open them, welcome us We are waiting for the messenger. I am tired, wrestling with the wind’s torrents it does … Read more →
Ghazal for February by Ananya Pandey
There is a dog on the road looking up at the city every day With eyes of a poem’s tireless wonder – I too try, every day On Rani Jhansi road, the houses have been half demolished for years Here, construction and livelihoods carry on every day At the chowk … Read more →
‘Inventory’ by Bilal Yousuf
Please attach the following to your record: When the rubble was removed at the blasted site: colonel found his trophy. journalist naked viral content. politician rote rhetoric. activist her terse tweet. writer his brazen inkpot. people a mighty funeral. Idea its millionth martyr. friend a late friend. graveyard a stoic … Read more →