June-July 2018

Translated from the original Rajbangshi language by Jyotirmoy Prodhani A Poet You Are Poet, come down to the dust and watch the shades of the setting sun. Poet, walk down that path and watch the lives lived by men. I Want To Become A Sky I want to become a sky a sky I do want to become— broad and...

Cool Masculine Hair careless tangled; dirt bristling on dried skin. I'll be clean, I'll be beautiful again, a cool, cruel image for someone. I press the glass against my cheek, feel the condensation disappear into natural fires. I'm James Dean in the photos, the film, despite all my disabilities... Let me be him for you: I've got that...

Tarmac Labyrinth Have you ever forgotten a road only to travel through it years later? The old smell of it coming back, the same branches leaning towards same shadows designing it weaving nets The same emptiness and potholes. Doesn’t it make you reminisce about the things you passed? Left behind? Glanced at and Ignored? If you haven’t tried to recollect the stops you made...

Studying 19th Century Bengal’s Civilizational Conflicts in Michael Madhusudan Dutt’s Ekei Ki Bole Sobhyota? Manisha Bhattacharya “Civility is claiming and caring for one’s identity, needs and beliefs without degrading someone else’s in the process” (The Institute of  Civility in Government). The idea of civility is about disagreeing without disrespect, seeking common ground...

THE LIGHT SINKS LOW Here, the light sinks low as a meandering river, into the threshold of my windows when I bake half-grown weeds. My nails are black with smoke. I clean the air around me with my overgrown hair. My kitchen sink is on the other side of the green balcony. It tells me the story of a...

wisdom fire burning to coals poet looking past embers seeing distant world before existence of light coming of god untitled poet on edge meds not refilled lost in black silence static white noise echoing around skull deafening suffering soul seriously considering ways to kill himself answer me telephone without voice no caller id broken-hearted poet wondering if ex-lover quietly bagging shrink routine family counseling necessary before divorce doctor’s dark office framed degrees on the...

THE FINAL DRAFT I've started living after my death! I was killed Some four years back— Stabbed and drowned! ’Twas a shallow stream; I quivered out, (Ah! Blessed ghoul!) Was yet again Earth-bound With the hope Of new love And assassins For my carcass soul! I've lived and died Many times In my secular half And your non-religious (w)hole! Faced umpteen deaths, Say, in Mohenjodaro, And in the Mayan...

Wargame Speak. Seek. Advance. Retreat. Say a word. A thought or two. Sing for me. You know you want to. Canoe down the river. Climb up the waterfall. I’ll be here when you get back. Waiting to give it all. Or maybe I’m not here. I’m deep-sea diving somewhere. I’m searching for...

BLOOD 1 I see the blood in hands of others faces of others smeared like fog or smog, I lift myself from clouds a thin line wavers as I walk into the existence of blood 2 I ask questions the voice is silent asks questions can you rape an eight year old, six months the voice is silent of course, only at the cost of blood 3 I saw a...

Birds Every star has a crack This is how the flash releases the radiance of living things To make sense of this is to know that a bird’s migration is the stars magnetic draw the conveyor from North to South and back again. This generates a bright effect on our lives because birds are a testament to the lightness of innocence to the graceful...

Welcome to Ethos Literary Journal (ELJ). Here is the inaugural issue and for this volume we have an eclectic mix of short story, review, nonfiction, memoir, interview and poetry. I’m blessed with extremely efficient genre-editors (Amit, Utsab, Koushik & Pramila), who have picked the right pieces for the best...

The Final Draft I've started living after my death! I was killed Some four years back— Stabbed and drowned! ’Twas a shallow stream; I quivered out, (Ah! Blessed ghoul!) Was yet again Earth-bound With the hope Of new love And assassins For my carcass soul! I've lived and died Many times In my secular half And your non-religious (w)hole! Faced umpteen deaths, Say, in Mohenjodaro, And in the Mayan...