Like an old man of the hill, the houses lie.It’s like touching history;Like a world trapped within a building,Like a time machine,Connecting you to someone who livedAnd loved so long ago.You sit with your back facing the sun.Beneath your skin’s veneerLies cemented fear.The shadow reminds you,You’re not only your soul, but a walkingCreature, treading upon …
An Engineering student from Kolkata.
She spends her days reading classics
and war-fictions, and the nights
scribbling art on forbidden walls.
Twelve handpicked poems curated by the editors (in no particular order). Assume all kinds of trigger warnings before you start reading the pieces. The inheritance of worshipping by Aaditya Pandey Five generations ago when my ancestorsgave up their profession of worshipping,they did not stop practicing it altogetherrather they passed this legacy tomy great grandfather and …