Blog

By Snigdha Jaipuriyar

If you ask a historian studying late at night
To explain the term “free as a kite”

By Suraj Gorti

Streets, are the most busiest places in our country. As, they're filled with hawkers cries, vehicles honk...

By Somi Patel

Aughing numbly to the chest pain
that froze on the screen

By Sonika Sharma

Love comes and love goes
it has so many highs but a few lows

By Sucorrine Jerome

I feel like a bird in captivity,
seeking to fly up in the horizon.

By Umera Riyaz

Wishing to weep in the arms of my lover
Seven seas away he stands

By Vasudha Bhandari

Nearly every man on the street was familiar with Chakori, the wondrous beauty who graced the congested and mucky street...

By Vedashri Phalak

Have you ever thought what does the word “freedom” mean? I think it is quite an
abstract thing...

By Vinita Jhawar

As I started writing this article I thought I will just start o􀉡 with a simple de􀉤nition of
freedom. 

By Vipra Gupta

She occasionally rubbed tobacco on her gnarled, wrinkled hands, all the while...

By Vishwa Parikh

But are there no consequences to words spoken out of anger? Is it really as easy to listen and forget.

By Vyomini Kapse

I wish- people stop judging me,
For who I am and who I want to be.

By Mimangshak Jitu

There is a hidden blade
That I burned on a fainty flame.

By Anandita 

There's the road you'll see.
There is now the direction which stands.

By Saniya Naeem

By Karnika Chauhan

Waiting to find your words corrupt, 

even before they are fully out. 

By Bani

By Harshada Kavale

By Sameeksha Agarwal

On a normal day, if you ask me what I’m made up of

I’ll tell you I’m composed

By Marbamonlang Rani

But I have failed to reason why
my arms have needle scars. 

By Ayush Arya

The poem is all about the teachings we can take from those 64 squares on a board of chess.

By Priya Agrawal 

By Preksha Punmiya

पंख फेलाकर उड़ना सिखा उसने
दुनिया के नियम से बेख़बर था वो I

By Vidya Bharti

By Archita Savarnya

By Supriya Majumdar

A prose of grace or a duet of virtues and vices?
She is not just a woman but a sublime storm...

By Unnati Khanna Unnati 

I was the last one in my family of four, two brothers and two sisters. They named me Bobby...

By Gopika Velayudhan

I stepped into this street. It's mid-day here. The coolness of the morning, just fading away...

By Sakshi Swarup

“Oh, I could never do it,” the little kite said,
As he looked at the others high above over his head...

By Vinay Vashisht

Jagga’s ears rose at the rustling of bushes. The air was foggy and still with the blaze of dire cold.