Back to the Yellow Pages By Smruthi Krishnan As the Global Media Industry moves forward with the Digital Age, it regrettably turns back to the crinkled pages of Yellow Journalism. Brimming with biased, misinformed news and driven by sensationalism, the Yellow Press is an evocative term coined by Ervin Wardman…

Appa (Tamil, Father ) First words are important, for every child and more so for every parent. For most of us, our first words are usually ma, mumma, amma, mummy. But my very first word was Appa – my father, my superman, my everything. When kids cry, they call for their moms, I however called…

I have a drawer full of Letters and gifts From people whom I once loved And lost. Chits and tickets I saved from years ago, Things untouched Letters unread Since the day they left Since the day I left. Some nights I sit amongst them And the spaces between the…

Rummaging through my cupboard, Sorting through my self-made chaos; Sweaters to the right, Summer tops to the left, Socks in the middle. Sweaters to the right, Shorts to the left, Socks in the middle. I notice- One grey sock; Larger than my tiny feet could fathom. I knew it was yours. So I…

Cotton Candy and I go way back in 2003 - when 3 year old me found a pink cloud in the corner of a grey, dingy lane. Chotu bhaiyya swirled his rusty machine and made me my own little cloud of sticky magic. …

I’d often imagine us walking barefoot on the moon Star gazing as we float away Into the night sky As seconds pass into minutes Minutes into hours And hours into endless aeons Until we lose ourselves to time And time itself ceases And we find ourselves Amongst these stars. …

Mazhai // ( Tamil - rain ) Ammaaaa, mazhai vara poraduuuu. I hate rain, I love rain. I hate rain, I love rain. I hate rain? I love rain? I hate rain. Brown, muddy, keechad. Mosquitoes, tadpoles, insects. UGH. I love rain. Saturday evenings w garam samosas and adrak wali…

Blessed are the hearts that can bend; they shall never be broken. I often wonder If at all, I could bend, Would it make it easier To fix her; make amends? Would she abide by the punches, the blows Would she stay strong Heal and grow? Would she find peace? Without…

I’d often imagine us walking barefoot on the moon but What if you float away And I’m left alone, astray? Waiting for aeons to find my home; waiting forever for someone who smells like space. ~