I. REMEMBERING The first time I was afraid of our love was when you disappeared for three whole weeks. Your phone told me it was an invalid number; your workplace was shut and your flat wasn’t where I remembered it to be. I stared at the walls of the
With an average footfall of about 50,000 people annually, Saarang, the student-organised annual cultural festival of the Indian Institute of Technology in Madras, is easily the biggest college festival in south India. After performances at major metal festivals worldwide, Architects are set to headline Saarang in in Jan. 2014.
 You can do it. Accept that he isn’t upper class diplomatic or a refugee of war or lover turned killer. Then you do places like militarised Galle Face: umbrellas curl open ice-cream kithul finds a way to hold hands longer than flavours.
I It began when it did, but it was never over, not really. At least that’s what he thought when she had called that day; out of the blue, after seven years of obstinate silence. At the intended hour, when he walked towards the café, however, the swagger had
Jhumpa Lahiri's The Lowland. The Lowland, Pulitzer Prize-winning author Jhumpa Lahiri’s latest novel, has been shortlisted for the 2013 Man Booker Prize. Other contenders for the Prize this year include Colm Tóibín (The Testament of Mary), Jim Crace (Harvest), NoViolet Bulawayo (We Need New Names), Eleanor Catton
 I take you like a paper doll and crumple you because I find that the noise you make drowns out the real sound of your bones ageing and you fading. Shruti is a 24-year-old literature postgraduate from Jawaharlal Nehru University. By day she’
Nitoo Das is a teacher, poet, and photographer. She teaches English Literature at Indraprastha College for Women at the University of Delhi. Her poems have appeared in national and international publications such as Tehelka, Muse India, Pratilipi, Eclectica, Poetry International Web, and elsewhere. Her book of poems, Boki, was published
She fell in love with a Muslim boy. She had never eaten meat in her life. They had to run away to get married. It became quite impossible to do otherwise. Their families met each other, and decided it was too difficult for them to get along, religion-wise. So they
It is fifteen minutes to curtain call and Shekhar is frantic because he cannot find his salangai. He has overturned his suitcase in the green room and the platform is littered with empty jewellery cases, spare silk sashes, bunches of silver- and gold-coloured safety pins, and an assortment of makeup
Amitava Kumar’s recently released biography of Patna opens with a lurid account of rats in the city: they are voracious hunters of the night, debauched drunkards, destroyers of crops, thieves of grains, and despoilers of libraries. These residents of the chthonic city pay nocturnal visits to the surface to