Volumes and vessels. Recesses and rooms. Shallows and shadows. Mosques and minarets. Cathedrals and chambers. You’re an echo without an origin. You’re the volume of a vacant vessel. You’re the magnificence of monuments, you’re a broadway show amidst yellow city lights and a silent history amidst ruined sculptures and incomprehensible scriptures. You’re the blood on … Continue reading
The Moods of Blue This piece speaks about the shades of blue that are seen on flowers. The shades interiors and the tinted petals. The variation in sizes, textures, and patterns. How disorderly ordered they are. On a poetic note, it speaks of the emotion in blue. Subtle sorrow and a regret that keeps returning. … Continue reading
We spend a lot of minor portions of our day waiting, which later on add up to become major parts of our life, which we spend, waiting. For cabs, for job opportunities, for food delivery, for meetings, for bad days to end, for love. I spent many portions of many days of many summer breaks, … Continue reading
This is the time for a storm, The boat is settled on a pistachio shell lathered with planks to hold lotus bulbs coffined deep down the marsh where the heat from you plops at all the constant curves of mine and the cuts of my curve. I am here – a new cinnamon fern … Continue reading
By Yash Pandit About Yash: Yash Pandit is a student of Literature and has unfathomable love for bikes, books, and breakfast food. Currently he runs a magazine called Whiplash, and goes around taking photos at every music festival he can get into. He is always up for stray-dog petting marathons and air-guitaring to hard rock. … Continue reading
I open my eyes to the sound of birds chirping, alongside that of a lawn being mowed a few feet away from my open window. My phone blares, telling me it’s time to wake up and make the most of my day. I turn it off and get out of bed, ready for some coffee … Continue reading
you lit the fire and you waited for it to hold us captive in it’s orange kindle, to burn into our skin till it could taste the relinquish of our muscles, to seep into our dreams and paint them the colour of nightmares, to lift us up and crush beneath us all our recklessness, to … Continue reading
