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Essays & Interviews

Chasing Crimson by Biaas Sanyal

The swoosh of crimson returned only for a moment when a young traffic policewoman, in a crisp blue uniform, slowed cars with deft waves of her hand. Pursed around her matching blue whistle, were a pair of crimson lips.

All That Remains by Revathi Suresh

Long buried memories hit me in waves everyday—at times I frolic in them, at others I go under. Sometimes it’s not even moments and scenes that I recall, but emotions and feelings that linger like a bad aftertaste.

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