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Haritha T Chandran

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Aana Bharathi

Each day Radhika tried the plum skin under Bharathi’s neck. The fresh skin, underexposed and unscathed like the underbelly of amphibian body, tingled under her touch. She...

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Resurrection

i have arrived at my altar. hark! i rise, i...

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.
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