the smell of a circle
How do I make them understand that it is not all about the brainand it’s spots, the colourful lit up spaces on MRI scansand the gentle lulling beep of heart…
Tilottama Chowdhury
Lone Star
Eight forty-five, again. I close my eyes, feeling the intermittent pulsating of the veins in my feet, throbbing to the tick-tock of the clock on the wall. The room is…
Speaking in Tongues
I lifted my eyes and looked out of the window at the snow falling from the dark sky, the snow silently covers the sidewalks, the cars, the roofs of houses…
Begin, again
The dice is rolled. Our hands meet as I pass it to the next player. Sometimes it is a warm embrace, other times a hurried snatch. Mother and I have…