By Rochelle Potkar
Issue no. 10
A large resounding tap on the main door, and Joe rushes to answer it as echoes of his footsteps follow him. Mrs Clair would send him subsidised food in a hot case for 200 rupees a month.
By Selma Carvalho
The Friday they leave for a weekend in Belgium, Anju discovers Freddo is cheating on her. She doesn’t share her knowledge with him. What she should have said was, ‘Freddo, I’m tired of this shit. This time, I’m leaving.’
Her heart feels like it is going to stop breathing all on its own, distinct from the rest of her. The pain is so intense, she realises it is possible for the rest of her body to survive the carnage, while her heart, expelled from her being like a refugee, would simply die.
By Augusto R. Rodrigues
Translated by Paul Melo e Castro
Issue no. 10
Sancho Serapião do Santo Sepulcro Costa Paredes Malcorado, son of old Nicomedes, the sacristan of Santa Eufrásia, had just entered his twentieth year. He had rudimentary schooling, a basic knowledge of music, and knew how to assist at Mass.
By Ulrike Rodrigues
Issue no. 9
She felt confused and nauseous, and she realized she didn’t know Marcus very well at all. She’d believed him when he spoke about being sensitive to local culture. Did that sensitivity not apply to women? Was he just another Vodka and Chang—white men satisfying an appetite for exotic delicacies on the cheap?
By Jaimala Danait
Translated from the Konkani by Glenis M. Mendonca
Issue no. 8
Darkness reigned through the house that night. There was neither a tube nor bulb light. The only source of light was the mellow light emerging from the lamp hooked on the lamp-stand. Even the children were unusually silent. Like the family members, the lizard too had to go on a hungry stomach.
By Brenda Coutinho
Issue no. 8
Nancy plucked the pearl white mogra and placed it gently into the loop of a thin braid of flowers. A whiff of scented breeze ruffled her tresses. Dew drops rolled and played a balancing game on leaf-tops; as a pale brown spider was engrossed in weaving a trap for its unsuspecting victims.
By Peter Nazareth
Issue no. 7
Including a fresh introduction to the play X by Peter Nazareth: At the time, I was thinking about Malcolm X, who had visited Kenya and met Pio Gama Pinto before the latter’s assassination. I was struck by how Malcolm X thought about his life, recognized the forces that had conditioned him, and then remade himself.
By Manohar Shetty
Issue no. 6
Marilyn Lobo was known as the miser of St Jerome’s Colony. And not without just cause. During Christmas, when all the Christian households of the colony illuminated their gardens and homes with flickering lights and stars through the nights and well into the first week of January, Marilyn lit up her own veranda with one forlorn string of coloured bulbs and a small star.
By Linken Fernandes
Issue no. 6
The sound of a window being shut followed next and was succeeded by another door closing with a loud rap. The sounds continued – this is no exaggeration – for almost a minute and kept getting louder. I guessed that a series of windows and doors were being shut for the night, one room at a time