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Monthly Archives: June, 2010

Reviewing Orhan Pamuk’s ‘The Museum of Innocence’ by Jacob Abraham

Jacob Abraham Ferit Orhan Pamuk generally known simply as Orhan Pamuk is one of Turkey's most prominent novelists. His work has been sold over seven...

“Poems can fondle our hearts” – P.A. Noushad, Poet

Annie: You write equally well in Malayalam and English. Tell us how you got drawn to the latter. Noushad: I feel that English language has...

Dr. Mary Annie A.V

Dr Mary Annie A.V,(M,Sc., Ph.D) writes under the pen name anna maria. She has been recipient of the Shanker’s International Prize in Writing at...

Jacob Abraham

Jacob Abraham is a bilingual writer. He is fond of writing Short stories and Novels. More than 25 short stories were published in leading...

Compatible Bone Marrow – Ram Govardhan, Chennai, Tamilnadu

David was enjoying his newfound freedom, akin to his carefree days of Poonthura, with gay abandon, after four years of conjugal confinement. With no...

Mathew George

  Civil Servant, Slapshod writer, Amateur Photographer and an avid golfer. He travel widely both in India and abroad. His travel writings have already been published in...

A Chance Encounter – Mathew George, Thiruvananthapuram, Kerala

Mathew George Airasia’s promotional offer was too tempting to resist, just Rs.3000 (RM 240) from Trivandrum to Kualalampur and back. Even while charting out our...

Jayaprakashan Ambali

Jayaprakashan Ambali is from Kozhikode; he is a mechanical engineer from NIT, Kozhikode, has a masters degree from Asian Institute of Technology, Bangkok. He...
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Latest

The Forgotten Daughter of Port Adamaro

The story entails the political-historical period of the 1970s when the Dalit Panther movement was soon, to begin with, the influence of the Black Panther movement of the west. The following short story speaks of the relationship of two sisters under the premise of the revolution.

Resurrection

i have arrived at my altar. hark! i rise, i flourish, i pirouette on my one toe and float like a...

Stalking Prisons

The streets are empty with no one in sight, I check the big clock of the tower behind the basilic of Saint Francis of Assisi. It’s 2 o’clock on a mid-summer Tuesday afternoon. Everything’s shut. Everyone’s resting. My heart’s hitting the walls of its all so tight ribcage, as I need to cross the brightly lit square and go to the other side.

Must read

Reviewing ‘Obsession and Wild Pigeon’ by Ismat Chughtai

My interest in Ismat Chughtai developed when I first...