Star Literature
FLASH FICTION / Her last words
The slamming of the front door sounded an ominous note, warning of trouble to come.
FLASH FICTION / Payback time
I’m not sure when I first realised that we’d met before. In the beginning, you were just the elderly man I often noticed pottering around our communal rooftop.
POETRY / The Last Day of a Red Tulip
One early morning, before the sun’s ascent, Stood a red bud in my front lawn.
POETRY / There is no water if i’m on water
I am put away impulsively like the totems on a modern alter
ESSAY / What do the end-of-the-world narratives tell us about the climate crisis?
Thinking of the roles of narratives in responding to the climate crisis, the most obvious one that comes to mind is the effective reach of narratives that connect us to the crisis, emotionally and intellectually.
Essay / Rokeya’s relevance to Palestinian feminism
According to Merriam-Webster Dictionary (online), the first known use of the term ‘feminism’–
POETRY / Olives
Seven feet of mud swept water, /Bodies under rubble.
ESSAY / The Palestinian crisis, Holocaust production, and ‘Maus’
This is part of a grand narrative that, offensive as it is, asks why the Jewish people let themselves be killed, instead of asking why the system enabled it to happen–the same narrative also exists in the cases of colonialism and slavery.
POETRY / I, Whore; I, Birangona1
Would it be too much to ask you/ To forgive me for the carnal sin I did not commit?
They raise their fists. Inside, I fall asleep to the sound of rain
The dumpster diver and the plastic smoker raised their fists. I was in the solemn, trapped
Do not allow the soldiers to kill my doll! : SIX
Dad, do you know how to build a rocket? Seems, you do not. You know nothing. You are good for nothing.
The poem
Ratan Da walked away, waddling the way he came from, whispering, “Don’t let it go to waste, don’t let it go to waste.”
Of faith: Mother and memories
Back in 2006 at the age of 11, I was introduced to faith, in the most domestic way possible.
Rapture
“Rapture’s coming, son. We best be happy when we embrace the Lord,” was all I heard him say as he pushed a needle into my arm.
Game
My mother took me on her horse and started to ride south. I clutched my bleeding arm, the pain snapping me fully awake.
