A moon in your name

WHEN I CONSCIOUSLYimagine poetry, I see: a small room in which my grandfather from behind a cloud of smoke projects verse after verse, turning to poet after poet, he holds an eternal cigarette like a pen, as if writing poetry in smoke. Poetry is now a fragrant, translucent haze, and the haze a...

Read More

Indigenous iterations of azaadi in Kashmir

WHEN PRIME MINISTERImran Khan took the stage at the United Nations General Assembly last year, some 11,000 kilometres away in Kashmir, people were hanging on to his every word. For them, Khan was an ally, a representative, a rare advocate before a global audience. Afterwards, the streets of...

Read More