Author: Arsch Sharma
The Watchmaker
It was July, and the last of the warm Gulmohur shards scythed the sultry Delhi air
Of Legless Boys, Arsonists and Oud
Every day on my way to work I see one of the several amputees who languish
Honey and Ashes
This intimate piece about reminiscing and grief titled ‘Honey and Ashes’ was rejected by the ‘Electric
The Daughters of Abraham
We were born within perfect wallsWashed in lime, sanctionedBy wild rainsThat fell mad upon our houses
