Summer-
Dried, dull,burnt corpses.
Yellow stalks bearing witness,
To the Sun's bright smile.
Winter-
Frosty smiles, cold faces-
graves of the seeds lie under
seas of bitter ice.
Electric fan-
Half-hearted circles,
Slow, lazy revolutions-
Mirage of Spring breeze.
Tubelight-
Dark and bright mingles,
Light and shadow play catch-catch.
A tube is dying.
More Than a Game: Cricket, Identity, and Politics
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How a childhood love for cricket has turned into a lens for questioning
nationalism and colonial legacies in India vis-à-vis Manipur
Cricket is often calle...
1 week ago
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