Karina Pandya

  Poetry has long been rooted in oral tradition, predating written language by millennia. In its early forms, it served as a vital tool for preserving history, legends, and knowledge. Rhythm, rhyme, and repetition were integral to its recitation, making it both memorable and meaningful. Early poetry often took the shape of epic narratives, hymns, chants, and ballads—many deeply intertwined with religion and philosophy. The late 20th century saw a resurgence of spoken word and slam poetry, revitalizing poetry as a live, performative art. With a potent mix of rhythm, rhyme, and impassioned delivery, spoken word poetry creates an electrifying experience, connecting with audiences in ways that the written word alone cannot. As the digital age exploded, spoken word found its place at the forefront of cultural conversations. In India, this wave of spoken word has also gained significant momentum. Poets across the country have used the form to address a broad range of issues—from mental h...

Starting as a joke—an offhand comment during their weekend hangouts at the local coffee shops—the five of them decided to perform at an open mic that was only meant for them.    It was Maya, the quiet one with a penchant for writing poetry that no one ever read, who had casually suggested this activity just for fun. “You know, we all have different talents, but what would happen if we got together to perform our open mic at the coffee shop?”  Bursting into laughter, her friends gazed at one another after  Maya  suggested this. The group was a mix of five different personalities –  Aarav , who was the spontaneous one and was always up for anything;  Sanya  – the perfectionist who couldn’t even sing in the shower without rehearsing,  Arjun  – the jokestar who’d never been seen without his guitar; and  Shruti , – the performer who always had a bold idea brewing.    “Yeah, sure, let’s all embarrass ourselves publicly”, Aarav t...

It had been four years since the six had been in the same room. Life, as it does, has swept each one in a different direction – new jobs, new relationships, new cities, and the inevitable time barriers that distance imposes. So when they all were in the same city, and Mia had suggested a potluck dinner, everyone immediately agreed that this idea of gathering together for dinner over laughter, memories and fun was the perfect excuse to reconnect.    They chose Mia’s apartment. It was a cosy one-bedroom-hall apartment with soft pink-coloured walls and a spacious kitchen – a place that she had dreamed of having but only recently could afford.   The preparations for the evening had begun one day prior, with Mia preparing hot chocolate by melting two rather large chocolate bars, which curdled up to make one of the richest and creamiest hot chocolate mixes. This was the only preparation to be made as all friends had suggested that they would all bring one dish for dinner. ...

Maira was one of those girls who was a self-proclaimed romantic. She was dreamy and romantic. She imagined perfect dates and soul mate connections. She valued memories and photographs,     but who was there to cherish these with other than her friends?   She was emotional, expressive, and very affectionate. Following romantic idealism, she had high expectations of love and was poetic and passionate. However, one thing was constant: she was always hopeful.     She adored love stories – whether it was the tragical Romeo and Juliet or a whimsical rom-com. However, her life was less of a meet cute type of guy and more of the meet awkward guy, and then somehow disaster follows.    It all started in high school when Maira had finally found someone who she liked. His name was Raj and he was tall, dark and handsome; a cliché wrapped up in one person. Unfortunately, Maira’s attempts at confessing her feelings towards him were rather lame and pathetic....

  One monsoon evening, Ananya sat on the edge of her bed and stared at the blank canvas propped against the wall. Having bought it a few weeks ago, she hoped to rekindle her passion for painting. “What about painting made her fall in love with it?” she pondered, but similarly to many other attempts to rekindle the passion in her life like coding, writing, Ngo work, dabble in photography or even bake – she couldn’t get herself to re-start.   At 22, Anaya felt adrift. All her friends had found their niches, but she seemed to be the only one who had not. She had tried everything, or so it seemed, and she had not yet found her calling. By suggestion, she even read famous books to help people find their calling, such as Ikigai, Atomic Habits, The Secret and The Power of Your Subconscious Mind; hoping one of them would help her start her career in the right direction.    “Why can’t I just figure it out?” she muttered with frustration as she ran her fingers through her wavy...

Maira, a novelist, was known for her beautiful, lyrical prose, whereas Aditya was a poet who celebrated the brevity of words in a few sentences through succinct and biting verses.  Their first meeting occurred at a literary festival where they met at a book signing event. They were both scheduled to talk about their upcoming works at this event: Maira – The Quiet Between Us and Aditya, The Space Between Us. They initially giggled at the commonality of the titles of both their works.     “How ironic, the titles of our work sound!” exclaimed Aditya to Maira.” “You look like you are about to write an entire novel in your head!” his voice smooth as if every word was carefully chosen. “I’m just trying to make sure I don’t forget to say anything important! Maira exclaimed.    Aditya raised an eyebrow, “You are a novelist, right? I have always wondered what it would be like to pour your heart and soul into sentences; into plot twists and characters.”   M...