The Bombay Literary Magazine

New Stuff

Category: Poetry

Calangute – by Srinjay Chakravarti

CALANGUTE For R.D: In memoriam On the beach, wind-blown tendrils of yellow gritty sand: reminiscent of the joss sticks garlanding your photograph with their tremulous, teary smoke and sickly-sweet fragrance. My five-year-old son decides to delve deep into my past. Hoping to excavate oysters from this Goa beach, he exhumes boyhood memories instead from this […]

Five Poems – by Kunjana Parashar

Cabbage Moth Mother is watching a video about raagi flour and how to knead her way into father’s heart. I’m sure it’s why she makes gooseberry pickles now. I am reading about sloth bears eating mahua flowers. My mind, matryoshka doll-like, forgets things. I am mouthing “ursine”, “scat”, “crepuscular” so I will remember to tell […]

Buddha At The Museum – by Prathap Kamath

From a schoolgirl’s diary On Saturdays I went to Buddha’s house where he sat in lotus position, eyes closed, filling the circular room that was earth, his conical head touching the arched sky. Saturday was holiday for school. Papa would be at his office. Mama was always absent; she was in Dubai nursing an Arab’s […]

Three Poems – by Zainab Ummer Farook

Salt Mother thunders into the kitchen, a banished witch reclaiming her place amidst the arcane, and tips half a jar of salt into the rice like she tipped over the wardrobe earlier, her rage untrammelled by grey pills or Godrej steel. ‘Choril uppilla,’ she chants, her abrupt fury terrifying my cousin, whose perfectly-cooked rice has […]

Two poems – by Zoya Chadha

“After all, Punjabi is spoken on both sides of the border, divided only by the script”~ This is the splintering. This is the passport which still reads Lahore, India. This is also the indiscretion. What no scrubbing can erase, for the way sameness seeps through cracks and makes itself known. To speak my father’s tongue […]

Three Poems – by Rohith

Premonitions 1 A white room with monitors an otherworldly space in winter I see you from the flip side of the soundproof glass-wall; tubes inserted from every side screens playing an unscripted language in motion. Your body is immobile – but your eyes, they dart in all directions in their yearning to remember – our […]