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Monthly Archives: April, 2017

Genesis and growth of Muslims in Travancore : A History Enquiry

Sajeena Beevi A Research Scholar in Islamic History University of Kerala INTRODUCTION Muslims occupies a very prominent position in the diverse socio-political and economic sphere of Kerala society...

The Pedagogical Practices of Indian Modern Theatre: Focus on Individual Training

Sumesh P. B.; Research scholar School of Performing Arts Pondicherry Central University Abstract: The contemporary debates over suitable actor training methods, particularly in Indian context, is presenting...

My Philosophy – J.T Jayasingh

Pleasant sunlight spread through the dew drenched green plants and give sweet warmth to every living beings. Eternal love birds sing their everlasting notes...

Mr. Broomstick Nostalgia – Sneha Rout

A non-human aptitude check on Indian governance- retrospective analogies drawn in to savour a healthy political jest….. Thinking of humanity, I am one of many...

The Sleeping River – Narain Rao, Balijipeta

I heard last night, the statue of our village goddess moaning in low sounds like those from a baby who just finished crying. Only I...

The Bride – Sowmya Suresh, USA

On that day she wore her new bangles, the ones her mother got her from Kancheepuram. Newfound wealth, that is what it felt like. Some...

Populated Attitudes – Mikhail Puyam, Manipur

Know the world where you live in, Try to notice the smallest things happening around you, each and every fraction of seconds of your time has...

Strange game – Utsav Kaushik, Delhi

He patted my cheeks hard. My ears stood and walked far. Realized...I couldn’t hear But I’m not deaf either. He bit on my lip. They were tightly shut. Fear gripped...
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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...