If you are looking for a well-crafted, horror book by Indian authors, look no further and read on. When Priya
Choked—guttedWhere are you, Mother?Your milky mounds—Fiery brazen cores— Chained—lockedWhere are you, Father?Your gentle rod—In death, I fly— Lead me to
When Som Mazumder approached me and asked me about my interest to host ‘Poet Speaks’ on KONECT E-ZINE, I was
Lying on the floorWounded, naked and numbYou called meA slutA bitchA whoreAnd a cuntAsked me to play by your rulesOr
Lata stared into the blank space. Her mind racing like a million shooting stars. Her heart sunken with grief, gratitude
They chopped and slivered every magnificent tree that their eyes fell upon. The insects danced and feasted around the shavings.