The Bombay Literary Magazine

New Stuff

Category: Poetry

Beds – by Harnidh Kaur

Four corners of a sheet tucked in haphazardly, little island of certainty for when the floor wobbles and the roof stares down at your eyes, a game of blink with stakes too high to forfeit – empty eggshells of unmade memories, ghost limbs curved into clammy folds, piled upon each other, want braided into need, [...]

Two Poems – by Mihir Chitre

Study Leave There is one tubelight in the hall and the windows, whose glasses are either broken or sold off, give away more than they should. I am studying the adjective clause but can’t find one to describe my father. What is it that he will blame my mother for tonight before thrashing her against [...]

कोई नज़्म लिखो – by Saurabh Jain

नज़्म लिखो , बेशुमार लिखो पर उससे बदलाव की उम्मीद मत रखो तुम्हे लगेगा तुमने बड़ी बात कह दी है तुमने ही अगली क्रांति की नीव रख दी है बस तुम्हारी इस नज़्म से अंधकार जल जाएगा और अगले ही दिन सब बदल जाएगा ये बातें बेशक सच्ची नहीं है, और ये ग़लतफ़हमी भी अच्छी [...]

Lost Rickshaws – by Mihir Chitre

* She says nothing, and how. The radio plays a dirge for December. Then when walking was going from verse to worse in the hay of our years, she infiltrated the moonlight in my beers. My toothpaste wasted on her charcoal lips. The things I could do were few and the things I couldn’t fewer. [...]

Boundaries – by Neera Kashyap

summer garbage below stench rises like yeast to this fourth floor trap I strip, circle a dot on a map a different heat rises the Tao says enjoy your food, your family your garden, your neighbor – I hear roosters crow in another country I am bound to you, I said I am bound to [...]

sketches – by Medha Singh

sisyphus at nizamuddin. the veiled sadness on a man’s face as he brings in one hand a bucket of dirty utensils, and in another the weight of the earth. sunlight drops on us like a curtain. the earth is spliced by a sunday. watch these men go about their lives the same way for years, [...]