It was last Saturday. She ate cherries and drank a magic pop, and we read she read more than I read I kept asking her …
It was last Saturday
Poetry
Avakaya
Someone at the table points to the jaronce stuffed to the brim with Mother’s Picklesbut now carefully filled with aged avakaya,and asks, “What’s that?” It …
Dishes Nobody Prepares Anymore
If you were a child in Germany in 1946and survival was your recipeyou would have knownall the dishes of those post-war years–Brennnesseln, Sauerampher, Bucheckern,Steinpilze, Pfifferlinge, …
Joy of Food
A man I loved handed me a plate of nachos suprême in 1969, he said do as you may with it, I’m here to only …
Half
It takes two peopletragically bad at cookingTo make upma on a Sunday morning.It is already 9As four feet, a generation apartMarch in, with a pair …
She/Her
By Farheen Sahban Perhaps happiness loves grief too muchAnd therefore it retires to make room for grief at the dining tableJust like my mother who …
The Window and The Soul
The Manmarziyaan Magazine celebrated its first birthday in October 2021 in collaboration with Photobombaying and Iris Poetry. This poem is one of the two winning …
Love was the Human Form of a Hurricane
By Akshita Chaudhuri Content warning: abuse; self-harm (Maa, are you listening?) I wake up in the nights thrashing my limbs around,the blood rushing to my …
A Song for the Fixers
By Devangana Mishra children are at times handed a paintbrush with a palette of colours, except all shades of yellow; they paint broken roads to …
Matching Pearls
By Anukriti Gahlout There’s an ethereal view beyond the end, Only if we dare, And our souls are one, Only if we saw them before …