Word from the Streets captures Richard Rose’s experience of Bangalore through his many visits.
Genevieve wanted a leprechaun. She’d never held a leprechaun. She’d never even seen one, not a real live one, but when Papa spoke and when…
He was running wildly, panting for breath as his heart beat furiously like a terrified bird trying to break out of its cage. They were…
Twenty years ago, they were madly in love. She loved him so much that she left her long-term boyfriend for him and moved to a…
Rels meant relatives. Cooz stood for cousin. Fat was for father. This new lingo exasperated me. I bit my nails every time I heard it…
Day Dada walked out without saying Yetan, which means I’ll be back not I’m leaving. Day he left without a sound or hint, Mama pulled…
Love like a plan gone wrong Today I woke up and decided to be beautiful Everyday feels like a song in my head Looking to…
My friend Dudley and I go to the book store for something to read. It’s open mic night. “How many poems can be recited about…
Barefoot children stop and stare Gazes arrested By the banganapalli trunk Whose fruit sways gently In a summer wind And brown eyes Calculate trajectory Of…
When the frigid breeze cuts into my skin Creeps past countless layers of wool Then I grumble to Amma Where are the mangoes, I say…