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Robert Beveridge


Robert Beveridge







Electroconvulsive

These days you walk with a cane
made from disassembled cattle prods.
The red circles on your temple do not fade.
The lack of jaw control, though, has gone away.
Soon, perhaps, you will speak again.


Many Waters

The grass cries
and all the air starves
out words melt
into tangerines
ripe to eat. Discuss
the core, speak
of things best
left in dark
to attract dust,
soiled in corners,
a-rot in their snide
disuse. Abused,
unused, your days
fall out the balcony
window onto the garage.


Pour toi qui fus au fond du rite

There is nothing left to say except “I love you,”
here in this place, this place we'll lie
for a few scant hours, then never see again.
There is nothing left to do except, again, kiss you.
This sacred time, today, has come and passed.
We must wait another week to worship again.

This time clothes you in dripping seconds,
salty, clear upon your naked skin.
We taste them on each other’s' bodies,
feel them drip from lips and noses,
fall to the bed unnoticed
until we realize the comforter is soaked.
Heat does this, and the speed of time.
It passes faster in the space around you,
rubs your body with its friction.

The seconds lend that tart cleanness
of their smell to the air around us
mix with your perfume, the smoke
of countless cigarettes, salt and musk
and the natural completion of this rite.


Ruth

It is the gentleness
of your fingers
their moths' wings
on my breast

It is the force
of your lips on mine
after I ask you
how you've been

It is the strength
of the chain
that binds our hearts
to one another


Solitary

There is no loneliness,
no desolation
that compares
to the sight
of you walking away
 


 

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Articles/Discussions


Editorial
Charanjeet Kaur: Editorial

Conversation
Sara Aboobacker in Conversation with Ayshath S R

Discussion
Srinivas Reddy: Sanskrit at the Opera

Literary Articles
Kinshuk Majumdar: Amitav Ghosh
Kusumita Datta: Kashmir and its Story Tellers
Rachel Bari: South Asian Poetry
Sonal Jha: Arun Kolatkar

Book Reviews
Dustin Pickering – ‘No Waiting Like Departure’
Gagan Bihari Purohit – ‘For You to Decide’
Purabi Bhattacharya – ‘Himalaya: Adventures, Meditations, Life’
Revathi Raj Iyer – ‘I won’t give you a leg up, Mr Death’
Sapna Dogra – ‘An Ode to Shimla’
Subashish Bhattacharjee – ‘Agniputr: When Agni First Spoke’
U Atreya Sarma – ‘Wakes on the Horizon’

Poetry
Ambika Ananth – Editorial Note
Arnab Mukhopadhyay
Bidyut Bhusan Jena
Madhab Chandra Jena
Maithreyi Karnoor
Mithlesh Kumar Chaudhary
Robert Beveridge
Sujit Mukherjee
Surbhi Goel
TS Hidalgo
Varun Rajaram

Fiction
U Atreya Sarma – Editorial Musings
Akshat Joshi – ‘New World’
Ananya Sarkar – ‘The Cats’
Eva Bell – ‘Entrapped’
Humera Ahmed – ‘A Different Sky’
Neera Kashyap – ‘As quiet as a feather falling’
Reema Tripathy – ‘Is Love the Reason?’
Sahar Raza – ‘Sacrifice’
Sukla Singha – ‘Fury’
Sunil Sharma – ‘The Shrinking Man’

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