The fear to live, the fear to leave

Author: Romita Ghatak

I was raped.

I was raped.

“7 August 2016 Bangalore, India To everyone who is reading this, I am not sure what I am looking for when I am putting this out to the world, to my ‘friends’ and ‘public’. I know the need to say this, call him out and […]

Yateem

Yateem

Yateem(Arabic) : Orphan(English) ‘Umi, It’s been fifteen days you went out looking for Abbu, I count nights with your needle on my fingertips, my blood oozes out in red. ‘Umi, I am still staring into your eyes, trying to read the words in your silent […]

Le dernier

Le dernier

The last time you were home, the six walls felt like shelter in the midst of a hurricane; we sipped cold coffee toppling with ice cream, took out our paint brushes and instead of the blue galaxy we dreamt of painting in a cloth big […]

Toska

Toska

“No single word in English renders all the shades of toska. At its deepest and most painful, it is a sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without any specific cause. At less morbid levels it is a dull ache of the soul, a longing with […]

5’0″ x 6’8″

5’0″ x 6’8″

Dearest, this is a poem in breaks like our kisses on the edge- we both are at home, homeless- we both are in love, loveless. Our hearts are as dark as the creases of the bedsheet at 3:30 a.m. and we wonder why we shone […]

The Bouquet

The Bouquet

10:13 p.m. Dearest, The roses reached you thirty-seven minutes earlier than they should have, and we both were caught off-guard. Until you asked me the question, I saved my sanity from wandering, wondering why I sent them to you. On some days, life happened to […]

Ode to our death

Ode to our death

Dear Lover, It’s been forty days today¬†since I last saw you. It hasn’t been 40 seconds since then when I haven’t thought of you. I now understand the term ‘enveloping’. I stopped holding on to your shirt, I now hold on to my heartache, lest […]

Death, in waves.

Death, in waves.

death comes to me, in waves- in the clotting of blood on my fingertips, my lips tasting the same on my wrists- in the crumbling of the letters addressed to you, dying lusty deaths in my closed fists- in the eyelashes of a lover that […]

Across the warfield

Across the warfield

Across the warfield, there is a garden- where paper-flowers breathe life, and grow into hearts. Across the warfield, words inked on letters come to life when lit on fire- the ashes mix with blood to form scriptures. Across the warfield, there’s a mountain; where nothing […]

“I am your Republic.”

“I am your Republic.”

“Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there, I did not die.” I am the leftover tea in the kettle, in the kitchen of the house, that you set on fire, because I prayed in green. I am the broken ribs […]