Veil: A poem by Gitika Verma
The acquiescent ‘pallu’ of her sari covered her face, never daring to slip from her crown, Ever since that moment when she had first set...
Winners Corner
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Veil: A poem by Gitika Verma
The acquiescent ‘pallu’ of her sari covered her face, never daring to slip from her crown, Ever since that moment when she had first set...
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Veil: A poem by Jayashree Pillai
On nights like this, I lift my veil And breathe : Much like you do. Mine isn’t a cotton piece like yours. Mine is a...
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Veil: A poem by Jayashree Pillai
On nights like this, I lift my veil And breathe : Much like you do. Mine isn’t a cotton piece like yours. Mine is a...
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A victim: A poem by Roodaba Shah
Behind a smile, she is hiding anguishOf tormented nights,Lashes lanced dermis, severed soul.Dreams wings slashed and clipped in the struggle and strifeVoice muffled in innumerable...
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A victim: A poem by Roodaba Shah
Behind a smile, she is hiding anguishOf tormented nights,Lashes lanced dermis, severed soul.Dreams wings slashed and clipped in the struggle and strifeVoice muffled in innumerable...
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Unleash the inner strength, not the victim card: A poem by Amrita Lahiri Bhattacharya
The cascading long tresses eclipsing her face, The cracked lips with a tinge of lipstick lace, The door is ajar with a sound of creak,...
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Unleash the inner strength, not the victim card: A poem by Amrita Lahiri Bhattacharya
The cascading long tresses eclipsing her face, The cracked lips with a tinge of lipstick lace, The door is ajar with a sound of creak,...
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A victim of love : A poem by Supriya Bansal
The sun laved the garden, smudged a balmy, peachy hue on the placid verdure, Lilting melodies tinged the air, wrens ‘n robins warbled a rapturous...
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A victim of love : A poem by Supriya Bansal
The sun laved the garden, smudged a balmy, peachy hue on the placid verdure, Lilting melodies tinged the air, wrens ‘n robins warbled a rapturous...
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She loves me, she loves me not: A story by Supriya Bansal
He rubbed his sleepy eyes. Sun had filtered gently through the window-sheers casting an array of patterns on the bed. Clutter-clatter, he could hear Amma...
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She loves me, she loves me not: A story by Supriya Bansal
He rubbed his sleepy eyes. Sun had filtered gently through the window-sheers casting an array of patterns on the bed. Clutter-clatter, he could hear Amma...
